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I am in my cave now...
the concave walls of solitude
Arms of God
enfold me...
A light burning in the Splendor
Just the way
the leaves fell
at that moment...

Divine cascade from heaven
golden chimes sprinkle
across the summer wind

A gentle gust lifts my
straw hat with the
origami pink, yellow and orange blossoms

Barely clutching the tassel brim
I look towards Your Invisible Presence
shimmering beneath that lucky tree

O Bhagavan!
"Not a leaf a falls without it being the Will of God"
My grandson Alex said something very profound and intriguing after his graduation ceremony.

I was complaining about how thin my hair had become and blamed it all on growing old. Alex looked at me with quizzical eyes partially covered by a mop of black sheepdog hair and declared,
"Well, Grandma you are an old lady."
I gave him a piercing look and said,
"True, but, remember this: The Soul is Eternal."

In that moment, my 14 year old grandson said that I reminded him of an old lady living in an off-the-beaten road shack. As I listened to him and the evocative images he spun I took the liberty of embellishing his description:

"Hidden by a dense patch of wild crafted herbs, a hint of mint, diamond needles darning their way around the bucolic scenery, a peculiar little hut comes into view.

The round oculus amethyst windows appear as portholed eyes to another world. If you pause and listen keenly you can distinctly hear the hum of otherworldly chants echoing from its eaves. Indeed, everything about this strange occult cottage exudes magical charm, you'd think it was inhabited by a priestess or something of that nature.

Slowly, I open the creaking door, puffs of rose moss incense and pooja camphor burn in small brass pots. Countless multi colored bottles, all different shapes and sizes, antique knick knacks, curiosities crowd the musty shelves. And a soft, rainbow mist floats through the room. This enigmatic Shack oozes wisdom......My Granny, her hair thinning, bits of silver creating a halo of stars, welcomes me. She gazes at me with a wise, weathered elderly smile while applying a red *** *** dot on my third eye and says:

"You know Alex the Soul is Ageless."
I'm really trying
to grow old gracefully
People say things to me like,
"Getting old *****"
and
"Growing old ain't for sissies"

I look at the stately, elderly pin oak
in my backyard
strong, stout, knotty brown trunk
weathering Florida hurricanes
and lightning zaps
willowy, winding branches,
leafy emerald arms ever embracing us with
the O2 kisses we need to survive

Dashing Sir Oak tree
Playful, Surfer Palm
Lovely Magnolia
I'll grow old with you...

Gracefully
(Dedicated to our dear bhakti friend and kindred spirit
Catherine Jansen)

Catherine dances
around the cremation grounds
with the Nagi, Sadhus of Lord Shiva
skulls and snakes dangling from
their fearsome necks

Her unique eye is able to
behold beauty in the
dreadful and sublime

Cat's heart belongs to Banaras
also known as Varanasi, Kashi
City of Temples and Light
to die in Banaras is considered auspicious
and augers salvation

With Love and Compassion of the
Divine Mother
Catherine showers happy gifts
on orphaned street children
Clutching Barbie dolls and flashing
brand new dental smiles
they dance with her along the Ganges

Catherine dances with an all seeing camera
in her hands
Zooming in
and
Zooming out
of the sacred, human, transcendental experience
Kindness is natural to
our nature, in fact it's a
Natural Law

The Dalai Lama says:
"Kindness is my religion"

We are not so gruff and tuff
as we think and act

Our heart melts into itself
with every random act of Kindness
every warmly kindled smile

We feel an instinctive, innate kinship
akin to kindness
because we sense that
kindness begets kindness
Love bugs crazy in love
are everywhere
dozens of tiny ebony stars
cover the nebula white rose bush
glowing at the corner of our house

Millions of miniature helicopters, blimps
polka dot the heavens
hanging out on street corners, in yards, lawn chairs
honeymooning on warm, fragrant vernal breezes

One woman in Walmart parking lot
squealed, exasperated,
"Oh no! they are in my hair and car!"
vigorously fanning them away with
her Zanzibar scarf

Love bugs literally living, loving, dying
in their mad, mating frenzy
dance obliviously around
Spring's merry maypole

Love bugs drift past
David and I standing in the doorway
two lil' love bugs
kissing
"nose to nose
toes to toes"
as only true
Love Bugs do
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