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Come with me


Step inside the body temple

Follow the arteries to the heart center

Anahata chakra

where Spirit has set an altar

embellished with fragrant leaves and flowers

freesia, mint, sandalwood, lemon

strewn on a blue silk cloth.

Tiny golden bells ring

Gongs intone “om.”


And on the divine altar

we place our stories

of triumph or sorrow

anger, regret

Here on this holy table

we offer the narratives

that we believe define us


Who chose to marry,

Who said no,

Who stayed in a hated job

Who sailed away

Who danced

Who tripped


In the clean light of Spirit

the stories disperse

like steam into air

when the sacrifice,

intention, is true,

only love remains

At Dawn


Photo by Luis Rodrigues on


I did a handstand on the pine tree.

Below, the balsam wind swirled in spirals.

Winter’s slanted sun set the frost aflame

while I swished bare toes in the crisp sky.

Scent of laundry, pancakes, mud.

A nuthatch landed on my head,

tweaked a hair, his laughing eye.


At dusk, I will make a nest of rye straw

in the broken willow,

with the wedding ring quilt

and a down bolster.

Hear the stars ring out

between the gnarled branches,

wrapping me in soft solitude

above the house that clings.

So high, so high.

Ho’oponopono: cleaning prayer


Photo by Jess Loiterton on


My first brush with the practice of Ho’oponopono occurred in 2015, at the Cayce Association for Research and Enlightenment (A.R.E.) in Virginia Beach.  One of the workshop presenters, an Energy Medicine practitioner, mentioned it.  I suppose I stored the seed away in my mind somewhere, and now it has begun to grow.

Recently, the reverend and practitioners in (part of Agape International Spiritual Center), whose classes and services I attend online, spoke of the power and usefulness of the short Ho’oponopono prayer (I’m sorry—Please forgive me—Thank you—I love you). 

For quite a while I had been feeling flat during meditation, with no recognizable sense of Spirit.  Reverend Victoria of Agapeeast taught the Ho’oponopono prayer.  Several students in the class mentioned that it was their “go-to” prayer when their upset was too great to focus on any other method of prayer. 

The continued stress of the COVID threat added to family troubles led me to try Ho’oponopono.  What an experience!  I found focus, ease, and peace in repeating the prayer.  It’s been about a week since I’ve used the prayer instead of my traditional mantra. Now I look forward to each meditation session, extending it to forty minutes if the daily schedule permits.  It’s like sinking into a scented, warm, cleansing bath.  I recommend giving Ho’oponopono a try.

The prayer comes from Hawaiian tradition.  Morrnah Nalamaku Simeona, a Hawaiian Kahuna (the one who guards the secret), adapted the practice for anyone to master and apply. 

To learn more about her, the history of Ho’oponopono, and the technique, go to:

Another well-known proponent of Ho’oponopono is Joe Vitale  ( who has partnered with Dr. Ihaleakala Hew Len, a psychologist and teacher of Ho’oponopono.

If you already do Ho’oponopono or if you try it, please send me your comments.  I’d love to know what others have discovered.

Satya III: Rising with Angels


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“The most powerful time to pray or meditate,” Satya tells me, “is between three and five a.m.”  She leans back in the peacock chair.  On her lap is a cat with the oddest markings, black and white splotches more like a cow than a cat.  The dog, Belle, sits at Satya’s feet.  It licks her toes with long, tender strokes. 

            “That must tickle,” I think, but Satya seems not to notice. 

            “That’s when the higher spirits are most accessible,” Satya adds.

            “Like archangels?” I ask.

            “Mmm.  Uriel and Gabriel, mostly.  Michael and Raphael are busy with the dead and dying.”

            Am I really having this conversation?  Satya’s patio is overhung with sprays of maple leaves turning red at the edges.

            “I’m a morning person,” I say, “but that’s even a bit early for me.  I like the quiet before the household wakes up.”  Today I hold a mug of Satya’s homemade chai, a mixture of black tea, milk, turmeric, ginger and honey.  It’s golden, warm in my hands and in my center.

            Satya smiles with her wide pansy-blue eyes. “I’m usually up by three. The spirits wake me.  I can feel their energy.  It’s a lovely time of day, so new, unspoiled. So soft.”

            “What do you do at three a.m.?”  Sometimes I feel like I’m in the presence of a saint, like Mirabai or Teresa of Avila.  And sometimes I think maybe they were right to commit her.  But Satya does no harm to anyone.

            “Oh, I take a shower.  Make up some chai and sit with the animals a bit.  Then I align my energy field for the day.  And I meditate, of course.  And pray.  Do some visioning.  Nothing special.”

            I think of my morning, starting at about six a.m., when the sudden shrill of the alarm clock frightens me out of some odd, rambling dream.  After my heart stops pounding, I get up, start the coffee, and make the kids’ lunches.  Go back upstairs, give my husband a poke in the ribs and hustle into the bathroom before the kids take over.

            What if angels woke me at three a.m.? 

Nothing special, Satya says.  Nothing special.



Photo by eberhard grossgasteiger on


Woodsmoke from the neighbor’s chimney

prickles our noses.

The old apple tree is down,

split white on mud.

Here a scattering of gray fur,

the remnants of a fox’s meal.


Long meadow grasses beaten down

dampen our boots

on the slope to the river

brown and swirling.

See where the water rose highest,

rotting leaves strewn

across the overturned canoes.


Rock wall tumbled down,

hidden by wild rose and fescue

where the snakes winter.

Squish uphill to home,

past a branch erupting orange lichen.

A thick vine of wild grape

winds its sinuous way

into bare branches above.


Feel how the rough twist of vine

becomes our wrists.

The boundaries blur.

Part tree, part muscle and bone,

entangled in the wild,

we see only light.


Welcome, new followers! And thanks to all of you readers out there!