for Cleo

Silent guardian of the sacred spring.
Bearer of tea and slippers in the hamam.
Wise mother at our daughters' first mikvah.

Emerging today from your own dry desert baptism,
Your gift shines forth once again.

Gathering under your protecting gaze and open heart, We are ready to fill our cups with the gifts of the Beloved.


Bettina Madini, "Dreaming Willow" (1997)
pastel on paper, 19½"H x 11½"W

Shell Fragments, Santa Fe Birthday

Shell fragments, stones of every hue.
The great sea pushes new jewels over our wet feet.

We stop and admire such abundance.
Remembering to thank that ocean heart whose tidal beat drives this myriad of riches.

You, dear friend have such a heart.

And we, turning to honor you today, are the like those sandy jewels. Our walk: the discovery of your loving intention.

Bettina Madini
SUNSET NO. 2, 2004
Watercolor on paper
18"H x 12"W
Click here for link to artist's website

Sacred Songs

Selling amulets in the crowded marketplace, few find their way to your gracious table.
Your sweet call drowned by the harsh sounds of commerce and disbelief.

Welcome, dear healer.
In this circle let us be the jewels you fashion into sacred song!

Our voices will be your offering to the Beloved.
As beautiful as those overlooked so long ago.

The Astrologer

The astrologer dances under the night sky.
You listen with esoteric eyes to the rhythms of starlight.

Hungry to capture this divine chorus, you spent years building ever-stronger telescopes.

Now, putting away the lenses and polishing cloths, you teach us the cosmic turns.
Awakening in our hearts the star songs you heard on that distant cloudless night.

Tashbi beads

Sweet creator of divine circles.
Our eyes are drawn to your radiant necklace.
Each bead holding a fragment of the one great prayer.

Connecting them all is the hidden cord of your forgiveness.
Transforming at each knot the tight place of remembered violation.

Passing through our fingers, this tashbi stitches the mothers' tattered shawls into the Beloved's wedding chuppa once again.

for Suria

Small flame resting on the altar.
Your light a pool of presence around the holy of holies.

The portal flies open. What a roar! Books scatter at your feet.

The flame, not candle-bound, spills from your eyes.
Rising and falling at each breath.
Guiding us back to the stillness again.