She slips through her portal again,
a woman clothed in the sun,
the moon at her feet,
stars around her shining hair.
Immaculata, Silent Watcher of this sector.
She was one time the mother of the Christ.
She looks around for someone who has depth of soul
and uncluttered mind.
It’s usually a child.
Out there, where there’s not time
but there is timing and confluence of events,
Immaculata can see all.
She knows, as all the Silent Watchers know,
that creation has turned the corner
and is on its way back to Source,
but souls in her sector tend to take way too much time
and too many tortured twists and turns.
Once again, the timing is right
for uncluttered souls to pray.
(Credit for the Immaculata idea to Patricia Cota-Robles at eraofpeace.org.)
They say there’s truth in every cliché
And in this one there is:
You never know how your parents
Love you, until you’re a parent yourself.
Though the days are long and tiring,
It’s easy to make it through
When my heart runs so full.
And though the mysteries of who she is
Bubble so slowly to the surface,
The glint in her eye
Can’t hide the wonder of her story.
And however I may walk
Through the days, the months, the years,
I will know that I did this right,
Gifting this child to the world.
It’ll be a long time
Before I am a grandparent.
But I’ll be curious to know
Whether the joy is in the new child,
Or in watching your child
Awaken to that joy.
I love dandelions
in your lawn.
You must resist those
Tru-Green trucks, too.
Through too green neighborhoods
I look for lawns
that wear the yellow zits.
Friends of Groundwater,
will hold no meetings,
unless in May
you want to help
our dandelion wine.