life: acoustic & amplified

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Seeking Oracles published in BorderSenses Vol. 21

Source: Seeking Oracles published in BorderSenses Vol. 21

The Oracles’ Compass – My New Blog starts now!

Here we go into a new adventure!! I would love to have you come along! If you enjoyed Life: acoustic and amplified I am very hopeful you will enjoy this new space with me!!!


Beginning at the very tip-end of 2016 and the very squeaky start of 2017!!!

Wooo Hooo!!

Happy New!

burnt toast and beauty in the morning  

You cannot seek water

from the one

who drained your seas,

and you cannot build

a home for your worth

inside of another being.

The medicine is when

you return to yourself

where you will remember

your strength,

reclaim your own rhythm,

and write your new song.

a poem from Victoria Erickson’s wonderful new book- Rhythms and Roads… Check it out here..

photo above by Fisherman Dan @ Branford, CT
in the world between worlds
where the shimmering abstract
holds all the secrets within us
words are absent
no scripture exists
there are no definitions
as there is no need for such things
in our eternal knowing 
we are ever-being known
the mystic colors of God fill us
unseeable in this earthly realms obscured vision 
they hold us there 
where we don’t need to be understood 
or understand anything
we are simply
all we could ever hope to be
we are the lover and the beloved
eternal love
eternally loved 
You in I
I in you


Amy Lloyd (AL)

today’s weather 

Todays weather calls for

Sunny outlook

with occasional clouds floating through

a few showers always possible

through out the day

daisies sure to peek out of the green grass

just to smile for me

wine and laughter at sunset

moon tonight 

full of you

with a sweet dream or two 

and more than a few songs

sure to drift through me

continuing on 

into my sleeping hours

Waking to a great new day of promise ‪tomorrow‬ 


Amy Lloyd (AL)

commit to the process   

LIFE – the temptation is always to reduce it to size. A bowl of cherries. A rat race. Amino acids. Even to call it a mystery smacks of reductionism. It is the mystery.
As far as anybody seems to know, the vast majority of things in the universe do not have whatever life is. Sticks, stones, stars, space – they simply are. A few things are and are somehow alive to it. They have broken through into Someone, or Something has broken through into them. Even a jellyfish, a butternut squash. They’re in it with us. We’re all in it together, or it in us. Life is it. Life is with.
After lecturing learnedly on miracles, a great theologian was asked to give a specific example of one. “There is only one miracle,” he answered. “It is life.”
Have you wept at anything during the past year?
Has your heart beat faster at the sight of young beauty?
Have you thought seriously about the fact that someday you are going to die?
More often than not, do you really listen when people are speaking to you instead of just waiting for your turn to speak?
Is there anybody you know in whose place, if one of you had to suffer great pain, you would volunteer yourself?
If your answer to all or most of these questions is no, the chances are that you’re dead.


~ Frederick Buechner 

 originally published in Wishful Thinking and later in Beyond Words

maybe we should redefine the human body

this fleeting flash of existence

into something more manageable 

possibly use an oracle from a lost tongue

or something children can grab 


even the physical fact of your face

 stubble of rough beard 

its really an undiscovered haven of wilderness preserves

or some flashing blue temple of luminous fibers


you are a cloud capped tower 

the souls fiery predilection 

untamable fire 

 a great globe          

           a gorgeous palace 

melting into thin air


this coat of you

garment of flesh and blood

a miracle of armor protecting us from dust and plague

a kaleidoscope moving at the speed of light

 provoking an epiphany of star poems


law me down a border on the edge of this constellation 

so I can escape an ejected primordial comet of revolutionary escapades 

 before too long let us each and all reclaim human regeneration

and so welcome the clean space to become perfected art


you – 

 this blinding flash of condensed atoms 

breast arms and legs 

turmoil totally unmanageable 

welcome me into this new undefinable rouge ecstasy

like a galloping red bird of infinity  

before the dark void swallows me whole 

into a veritable contradiction of neo-forms

Adam A. DeFranco

I wonder if writing this poem
will spill you out of me
through my fingertips
will the ink become your blood 
this paper your skin
for me to touch 
again and again?

I wonder if stretching my hands to the sky,
while standing on my tiptoes
will release your wings
so you can fly free with me
into the starry sky
discovering all the worlds we have inside?

I wonder if I stand as tall, and as still, as a tree
you will come to me
climb up inside me
twist your arms and legs into my branches 
hold me close and never let me go?

I wonder if I sing you a love song
if I will become a part your soul
and you part of mine
both of us sewn within these chords
of mine and yours
absorbing each other 
into our very dna? 
Will we become each other? 
Forever becoming each other’s other?
mirrors of beauty
to dance inside the aleph
where heaven meets the earth? 

I want to know…



golden glow

I’ve come right here to these fair skies

where I will look within my eyes,

every gift, I’ve seen its worth

every grief, I’ve soaked in surf

every lesson, I have learned

every bridge, I’ve had to burn

every quote, I think I’ve read 

walked every path where I was led

every moment, grateful for 

every minute, gives me more

all my love, I will keep giving

every day, I will keep living

every wound, will be healed

every longing, be fulfilled

every beauty, I’ve seen and know

every springtime flowers grow

every golden sunset sky is glorious

every day I live victorious 

every breath, it is a song

every day, all night long

I’ve worn the cross 

I’ve shed my skin

I’ve resurrected 

once again 

I’ve lived

I’ve died

I’ve burned to ash

I’ve loved

I’ve lost

I’ve found myself

I know I’m here to learn these things 

to live

to love

to sing

to speak

to write

to dance

to flow

to know

Love is my home

abide with me



Gorgeous photos above by Lissette Hasmadt…her words below. her beauty shared Sigh…very inspired and grateful…


…today was something else. It was like I stepped into something out of a fairytale. Some mythical place where anything is possible. I chase sunsets all the time, but there are some days that blew my mind away and all I am left with is my soul, free and exposed. It’s in that moment that everything makes perfect sense to me; that moment when I am immersed in the deep gold stillness.

   – Lissette Hesmadt

preparation = always ready 

…It must be 

we are waiting 

for the perfect moment. 
It must be

under all the struggle

we want to go on.
It must be, 

that deep down,

we are creatures

getting ready

for when we are needed.
It must be that waiting 

for the listening ear

or the appreciative word, 

for the right

woman or the right man 

or the right moment 

just to ourselves,
we are getting ready 

just to be ready
and nothing else.
Like this moment

just before the guests arrive 


alone in the kitchen 

sensing a deep

down symmetry

in every blessed thing.
The way

that everything 


to us

is preparing 

to meet us too.
Just on the other 

side of the door 


is about to knock

and our life

is just

about to change
and finally

after all these 

years rehearsing, 


the curtain,
we might 

just be 


to go on.

From ‘Waiting to Go On’ by David Whyte

The piano, 

not played,

is still a piano – 

patiently waiting 

the music lies quietly

still inside


not going anywhere else

not making itself heard

not anxious 

or demanding 

all it takes is the right hand

to touch the keys

to fall in love

and the song begins

the strings within

warm to life

always ready to play



love o’ my heart 

I will make you brooches 

and toys for your delight

Of bird-song at morning 

and star-shine at night.

I will make a palace fit for you and me

Of green days in forests 

and blue days at sea.

I will make my kitchen, 

and you shall keep your room,

Where white flows the river 

and bright blows the broom,

And you shall wash your linen 

and keep your body white

In rainfall at morning 

and dewfall at night.

And this shall be for music 

when no one else is near,

The fine song for singing, 

the rare song to hear!

That only I remember, 

that only you admire,

Of the broad road that stretches 

and the roadside fire.


I Will Make You Brooches by Robert Louis Stevenson


 This is love: to fly toward a secret sky, to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment. First to let go of life. Finally, to take a step without feet.  

         – Rumi


Kiss me. Kiss me as if it were the last time.  


    – Ilsa Lund, Casablanca


for a brief moment the sun tore through the clouds and the earth swelled and grew brilliant through fractured raindrops and I thought here comes spring tearing through the earth like a wild beast hungry for sustenance here comes all that is new and turned to drink from that golden cup that chalice of glorious […]

We live in this era.

This blog just found me!!! Makes me deliriously happy! ❤️


We live in an era where we can hardly tell the difference between right and wrong.

We live in an era where love is nothing more than a four letter word.

We live in an era where you are judged upon how much you weigh.

We live in a era where people like or hate you based on the number of instagram follows you’ve got.

We live in an era where a mascara and a lipstick can get you your prince-charming.


And sadly, thats the bitter-sweet truth of the world we live in today.
Uh-uh wait.
Are we even living in the first place?

I really don’t know.

Mahek Mithare

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