Category Archives: Poetry

On Freedom

BY KAHLIL GIBRAN from The Prophet

And an orator said, Speak to us of Free-
dom.
    And he answered:
    At the city gate and by your fireside I
have seen you prostrate yourself and worship
your own freedom,
    Even as slaves humble themselves before
a tyrant and praise him though he slays
them.
    Ay, in the grove of the temple and in
the shadow of the citadel I have seen the
freest among you wear their freedom as a
yoke and a handcuff.
    And my heart bled within me; for you
can only be free when even the desire of
seeking freedom becomes a harness to you,
and when you cease to speak of freedom
as a goal and a fulfilment.

    You shall be free indeed when your days
are not without a care nor your nights with-
out a want and a grief,
    But rather when these things girdle your
life and yet you rise above them naked and
unbound.

    And how shall you rise beyond your
days and nights unless you break the chains
which you at the dawn of your under-
standing have fastened around your noon
hour?
    In truth that which you call freedom is
the strongest of these chains, though its
links glitter in the sun and dazzle your eyes.

    And what is it but fragments of your own
self you would discard that you may become
free?
    If it is an unjust law you would abolish,
that law was written with your own hand
upon your own forehead.
    You cannot erase it by burning your law
 books nor by washing the foreheads of your
judges, though you pour the sea upon them.
    And if it is a despot you would dethrone,
see first that his throne erected within you is
destroyed.
    For how can a tyrant rule the free and
the proud, but for a tyranny in their own
freedom and a shame in their own pride?
    And if it is a care you would cast off, that
care has been chosen by you rather than
imposed upon you.
    And if it is a fear you would dispel, the
seat of that fear is in your heart and not in
the hand of the feared.

    Verily all things move within your being
in constant half embrace, the desired and
the dreaded, the repugnant and the cherished,
the pursued and that which you would
escape.
    These things move within you as lights
and shadows in pairs that cling.
    And when the shadow fades and is no
more, the light that lingers becomes a
shadow to another light.
    And thus your freedom when it loses its
fetters becomes itself the fetter of a greater
freedom.

A Song of Prayer

I wrote this poem after sitting in a medicine ceremony and feel called to share it and my story with you. I am reminded of the tome: no person is more courageous than they who speaks with the courage of their own convictions.

A Song of Prayer:
.
I trust in yOur Music
I am your drum
Thank you for trusting me to sing
.
Conviction is conviction
regardless of the decibel level

.
My heart sings as it beats
Air fills my lungs with unconditional love and abundance
The purest sign of intimacy
When I am open, I receive
Doubt is the shim, the space between trust and experience
Belief is an idea waiting to be experienced
.
Oh giver of life
I am your drum
Thank you for trusting me to sing
.
I am an empty vessel
I am gifted with the fullness of your love
My music is rippling harmonious vibrations
aligned with light
May I strike true
May I strike proud
May all my songs be prayers of gratitude
for this unconditional gift of life
Trust – Gratitude – Generosity – Love

.
A few months ago I received this message I am called to share it with you.
.
We are all gifted unconditional love by virtue of being born into this world.
.
Life is the ultimate gift
.
Yet we tend to walk around expecting things to be a certain way, even judging what is thus limit ourselves through our own beliefs, perspectives, and conditioning
.
Our limits make us what we are
.
And we choose what rules we play by even if we are not aware of it
.
Back to my story…
.
I was in a drum circle and felt called to pick up a shaman drum and play
When picking up a new instrument or engaging in any public action there can be a level of discomfort from doubt and unfamiliarity
But I picked up the drum and played through the internal crirical, judging voice.
.
I continued playing the drum and begin singing and dancing

I became aware of another whispering voice
.
I am a drum
This vessel I was gifted at birth
.
My skin is stretched tight across my bones
.
My heart beats and my lungs breath unlimited air
.
I am an instrument of God’s love
.
I am a drum
Thank you for trusting me to sing
.
We are bestowed with our own music
Thus we are all called to sing
.
We spend this life collecting experiences, things, desires…
.
Will you let your music out in to the world or let it die silently within?
.
You are a drum
Trust yourself to sing
.
People have often asked me if I’m a musician

Now, I tell them, “I am the drum”

“Even in the mud and scum of things
Something always, always sings”

MUSIC – Ralph Waldo Emerson:

LET me go where’er I will,
I bear a sky-born music still:
It sounds from all things old,
It sounds from all things young,
From all that’s fair, from all that’s foul,
Peals out a cheerful song.It is not only in the rose,
It is not only in the bird,
Not only where the rainbow glows,
Nor in the song of woman heard,
But in the darkest, meanest things
There alway, alway something sings.
‘T is not in the high stars alone,
Nor in the cup of budding flowers,
Nor in the redbreast’s mellow tone,
Nor in the bow that smiles in showers,
But in the mud and scum of things
There alway, alway something sings.