Summer-storm-born

Summer day.

Birds of many colors and song next in the sweet mulberry.

Fierce roots pushing deep in this backyard soil.

Resonating gently with the songs far above.

You dear, summer-storm-born, equally strong and beautiful.

As artist, mother, teacher and guide, you sweeten this world.

Bringing out the songs and colors we so long to share.

With the Mureeds

Bring your hand to your heart.

This is not your body.

Breathe the river of the Beloved's embrace.

Sweep open the hand.

The piles of old rags and discarded furniture are washed away in one breath.

The door to the Temple is revealed once again.

Impeccable

With such grace, I watch you shrug off one cord after another.

Scrubbed clean, this jewel shines from within.

Solid ground in a spinning world.

Johanna

Meditations of star travel, riding rivers of Light-to-Matter being born.

Your wise heart holds all of Creation in loving embrace.

That same gentleness in your finger's touch: holding loved ones present in this moment.

In Your Kitchen

The crowds rush to the marketplace.

"New spices have arrived from mysterious lands," they call out.

In your kitchen, dear Beloved, we need no magic powders.

The depth of friendship and the Light of your heart, is our true feast!

Falling Bird

The golden one falls through the clouds. Tossed by invisible waves.

Pushing by force of will to the mountain perch only he can see.

Unfolding those giant wings, the sun ignites his soul.

Falling into the Divine purpose, he is carried aloft to guide our heart's quest.

The Shy Guardian

You stand again at the sanctuary gate.
"No more 'trail of tears,'" you affirm.


Hearing deep in every bone, the old songs.
Reflected in the sea's foam and the stars' delight.

One Dolphin Prepares for the Swim

The dolphins sing in the star-night sky.
Awaiting their lover-moon's return.

One remains silent.  
Saving her power for the long swim ahead.

She knows her light is the star waiting 
beyond that moon.
She holds its light for our joy.

The Potter's Hands

The potter kneads the resisting clay.
"Why do you push me so?"

"Be still," the artist whispers.  
"Under your flesh runs a deep current."

Our work is to bring this river to its love:
The dancing moon and stars.

Sunflower

Thirsty for the Light, you turn your head to the horizon.
In disbelief, as that passionate friend drops out of view.

You try to pull yourself from the roots and chase that vagabonding lover, but firmly grounded you remain.

Yet in that pulling strain, you call up the soil's moist offering.
That each night you transform to the morning's yellow joy.

Helen Klebesadel, Where Are the Bees? II
Original Watercolor

The Offering Maker

You devoted your life to those intricate festival offerings we carried to the altar.

Your hands still remember the old prayers crafted of wood and fiber.
Offering service to these bodies -- our earthly temples.

Wine Stains on Your Robe

Everyone feels the flame. So why not embrace that fire?

We hunger to taste the wine spilled in those taverns,
Whose mandala-like stains swirl at the hem of your priestly robe.

The Dervish Tilts Her Head

The dervish has been turning.
Infinite whorls of creation appear and dissolve.

Tilting her head, a new doorway opens.
Lifetimes tasted and savored.
All forms moving in the Dance.

A Tree Burns

The tree stands lonely guardian over the winter's field.
Squirrels find shelter deep in its trunk.

Listen carefully friend: this time the sap returns early.
Pushing past old scars, new leaves will dance in the Divine One's breath.

The fire consumes from the inside.
Only the bark will burn.

Hungry Travelers

You greet the travelers with colorful stones cupped in your extended hand.

Your smile draws us closer. "Take one," you offer.

Warmed by your heart, sitting in our pockets and purses, they sing of the Beloved.
Dancing now, our hunger gone, we bless your generosity, and spill the wine.

No Miniatures

Taken by the Beloved's had to the Center of Creation, the artist returns to decorate the temple.
Windows, walls, the floors themselves, encoded with intricate patterns of the great mystery.

Now that work is complete. The DNA is revealed. The door is thrown open and we step gently across the threshold.

Now another canvas awaits. New brushes stand ready for bold splashes of color.
No miniatures here! This path has been waiting for your bigness.

The Gardeners Called Away

The gardeners, getting older in body, tend the flower beds a little slower this season.
Each cluster of shoots holding the promise of a summer-revealed scent, colors yet to be revealed.

Called away, gloves removed, the spade wiped clean. Others will have your attention now.
Leaves unfurling under your loving gaze, it is time for celebration.
The garden waits in safety for your return.

Abundance

Filled with nectar, you sit in a circle of gopis. Expansive and radiant.
Behind you is the Beloved Friend and guardian.
Step into the vortex to this time and place.
From the place of abundance, come and remind us of our gifts: of the bigness of our souls.

I Need Your Opinion

Friends, I need your help in deciding whether to try again to launch my "anonymous blessing community" website. I will have to pay for hosting and for software upgrades, and can't decide if the idea is a good one or not. This site is different from the blessing poems I have written myself and posted here, as the idea is to allow anyone to ask for a blessing and anyone to create one in response -- with both the requester and the responder to be anonymous.

My vision is that thousands of people would start sharing heartfelt messages with each other on a one-to-one basis, but yet remain unknown to each other. This would prevent anyone from getting "hooked" on someone and keep the energy clean. Before a blessing was delivered to the indented recipient, it would have to be approved by at least 2 community members. Thus preventing spam, preaching or negative messages.

In order to work, the community would need at least 20 users willing to participate in creating blessings and screening what was sent. Hundreds could join solely to ask for a blessing or affirmation.

The question is -- does this meet any real need? There are many ways to ask for a blessing. Some people only want to deal face-to-face; others might go online, but find the anonymous quality a turn-off. Many folks might be happy creating a blessing poem (as I do on this site), but want to know who it is for. Or they are happy to post affirmations or general blessings to the world at large (e.g., via Twitter).

I am committed to creating my Sufi Blessings for anyone who asks. At some point I may request a small payment. The question is -- is the idea of a large web of blessings, not created by a preacher or teacher or master, but by individuals responding to another's request, a good idea? Please comment below.

The Canopy Comes

“The tent of the Beloved is torn!” The mureeds rush with rope and bolts of fabric.

In the breath we hear: “rest in the moment, a new canopy comes.”

Every forgiveness mends that tattered cloth.

Every prayer weaves a new foundation.

Helen Klebesadel, Hope (36x20)

Humming Bird

Earthbound, you long to soar. One look into the deep of your eyes tells us of the sweetness of your mission.

Not a hawk, but a hummingbird, caressing the pedals of our soul. Reminding us of the garden once again.




Bettina Madini, Angel of Serenity

This Poem and Art is available as a Friendship Card.

The Tree is Gone

A tree stood as guardian at the river's edge, a landmark on the less-traveled path, waiting for the pilgrims needing her protective shade.

Today, that tree is gone. Its roots are the stars, its leaves the meteors and comets of the bright summer-night sky.

The river continues to flow. The pilgrims safe under this new evening light.

Bettina Madini, River of Life

So Many Temples

So many astral temples you've built! They pulse, crowed with angelic song.

Each design holds your imprint, waiting for manifestation.

This time we are ready. The children have been painting those walls, preparing them for the crowds to come.

Mirage-like, they dip into this world as we spin in devotion.


Bettina Madini, Portal to the Temple of Light

This Poem and Art is available as a Friendship Card.

The Vagabond

Invite the one who holds the soul-fire to sit at your side.


Your blessing brings the vagabond to his true nature.


Holding the torn fabric as it is made whole by your deep listening.



Bettina Madini, Angel of Abundance

Dharma Walker

Today I read they activated the Haldron Collider. Sending protons racing to become elemental fireballs. Hoping to illuminate the "dark matter" -- the gravitas of physical being.

You, dear friend, tap another fireball. Your path, step after considered step, illuminates a different darkness.

Calling us to the true fire at the edge of each breath.

Bettina Madini, Key to Heaven