Dec. 5th, 2018 06:58 pm

Ankle Deep

toads_dimensional_rift: Hand drawn doodle full of lines (Default)

No where to go in life
nothing to do but melt down
every dream I’ve ever had

children,
friendships
all pass by

history is ankle deep here

I read it in the unnecessary drama
present in the faces on the street
as they pass me by

but between and through their throng
the real population seeps through
and no one sees

no one knows how many cultures I have lived

because no one sees with my eyes
with my heart ~ knowing things no one else knows
with no accountable way of knowing

seeing hosts on hosts of ethereal beings
some good, some not so good
some who'd really rather not be bothered with any of it

all vying to win the field

(well, some are, so not really)
we think ourselves insignificant
try to improve our lot with flimsies

the stuff is truly nothing

the addiction to flimsies; whimsies;
vanities, to self-flattery
is why history  is ankle deep

here,

in this world that has forsaken
its gods, its guides,
it's balance and its truth.


<I am the author.  I orginally posted this poem at wordpress.com on 4/18/2018.
It actually was jotted down before 'More Than Ankle Deep' and is
the
depressing mulling that reminded me of my experience with
the Sanshin. 
For some reason, I get on quite well with
mountian gods. <3 >

 

toads_dimensional_rift: Hand drawn doodle full of lines (Default)

History is not ankle deep here
the walls of the ancient footpath
rise many feet over my head

Roots protrude from 'round the stones
in the mountainside exposed;
the flesh & bone of gods not heard of since the war

Gods 'killed' by the incessant bombardment of
UN troops
Chinese soldiers,
Korean recruits

And enthusiastic new Christians,
erasing Living Beings left and right
because they're somehow 'demons' now.

The manshin know,
can feel the otherworld,
fading fast and yet renewing

The trees and brambles overhead,
I cannot touch their roots
electric jolts my bones in all the worlds at once

and Grandmother of the Mountain Pass
strong, compassionate, terrifying
"we are not dead,
though the strangers taught many to believe so"

all i can do is
make a formal bow,
as to an honored ancestor,

and listen as She speaks

 


A note:  When I was a child, I lived in South Korea.  Being the odd bean I am, I made the acquaintance of many people, with and without bodies.  Humans, "Monsters," Spirit Folk, Gods, and more.

A manshin I knew as a neighbor told me many of the Spirit Folk, especially the mountain related ones, had died or chosen to sleep because of the heavy bombardment during the war in the 1950's, and that the rapid acceptance of the various Christianities was also causing them annoyance, so they had to one degree or other, stayed away. This thought caused me a lot of worry and anxiety.  That ANYONE would be so hurt in their heart that they avoided family for so long and maybe even permanently - she had said they died - it made me want to find the People she spoke about and help them feel better if they wanted me to.  Though I did not seek anyone out.

This experience happened not long after that conversation as I was walking behind my family in the mountains just past Suwon (my memory of geography isn't great unless I see a photo of the place, alas!).  My heart was in my throat.  The Lady was amazing!  Huge!  and was accompanied by a tiger, and carried peaches (I think a child carried the peaches). She talked about boundaries and liminal spaces to me.

But I was 12, and had NO CLUE what any of that meant.  I just knew it was right to be RESPECTFUL, like my grandma taught me you are toward royals.  So I did my best.

I'm sure many will tell me I'm wrong, that the Lady doesn't ever do that, that she isn't who she says she is, or that by daring to tell my own experience that this somehow diminishes others' experience (NOT a real possibility, not when it comes to Spirit Folk - they choose who they associate with - humans who seek them out tend not to do so well, so I do not seek them out).  Anyway, this is my experience.

I am sad if it upsets you that it happened.  But I cannot make it un-happen to please you.  And I cannot lie and dishonor Her to please you, either.  If you know Her, you know what pain dishonoring Her would cause you.  Don't ask me to cave to human opinion over Her choice.  The message she gave was for me.  I didn't share 99% of it here.  Only the bit everyone needs to know.  "We are not dead."

I honor each of you reading this. Thank you for your visit.


<I am the author.  I posted this originally at wordpress.com on 4/16/2018.>

toads_dimensional_rift: Hand drawn doodle full of lines (Bee Peaceful)

Pressure builds
to DANCE
to SING
to communicate REALITY as it IS
in every dimension

to mend the sky
as must be done

to sing the songs
in my native tongue

the words that dance and move the worlds
the words that spark the healing light

I am the goddess
the Great Fox loves
and at whose shrine He serves

“I did not marry below my station,
Delight; nor did you marry above yours,”
He often says, while
fiddling with my hair in bed ~

Celestial pillow talk

the daughter of the Emperor who ruled Al Kaid’s
many little worlds;
From our palace lit by the star
at the end of the handle of the Great Dipper -

but humans call it so many things;

the Plough,
the Seven Stars;
tail of the Great Bear ~

from whence comes luck
and life and joy and justice

The flowing Dao pours eternally onto Earth
from thence . . .

and yet

this small human body
~a failing meat mecha that doesn’t mesh with it’s pilot at all~

cannot hold all of me
never holds all of me

being fully present in it
causes overload
short-circuits the neurology

too many smells,
Degrees of touch,
Tastes attack - and textures too

too many shades of light refraction
light itself weighs heavy on these 3D bones
too much pressure on the body

And on its pilot
too much of everything
without any prioritization protocols

requiring frequent shut downs
and cold reboots
and even so

        PRESSURE BUILDS

                   TO DANCE THE TRUTH

to dance the worlds into being
to repair the sky
across the worlds

Starting in this bodied mess
And teach the children

To walk the stars
To heal their deepest selves

Kali Yuga ends
as it always does,
going out with a bang this time

if these children are not careful
and they are not

             ~ the willful brats ~

so the mission is simple, oh so simple
but not the easiest thing

“You’ve done it before, Delight.
I don’t know why you’re worried,”
       The Great Fox says,
“You need only rewire the cosmos!”

AGAIN
to DANCE THE TRUTH

AGAIN
to sing the words of return
that saved the children
             of the planet we escaped
so long ago

the dance that brought us safely
to this little earth

But, Oh! my love!
That was ten-thousand years
        And as many bodied lifetimes ago, at least.

That was before the humans
were warped
were made slaves
were the first GMO to touch this world

I am so tired, Beloved One.
But I will Walk the Stars for You.
      And I will do my best

To mend the many colored sky.
One soul at a time.

<I am the author.  This poem was originally posted to wordpress.com 4/10/2018.>

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