Suspended In Motion

So much treasure suspended in motion, space, feeling, a tumble of locomotion commotions and contradictions collide in one life, all life, and we rarely know just how amazing it all is. My week pounds out a rhythm barely doable here and in the middle of it all someone precious fades into the next expression of love’s history, retreating from any mode of tangible accessibility. The shock spreads my time across a canvas of love-tension, stretching out details, slowing the blur just enough to observe. Death, loss, knowing and being known, lingering impressions and poignant etches trail across the memorial halls of soul, haunt the ticking clock I can’t hear but feel. All the details strike me as surreal, suspended, a slow-motion collage of awareness and a sense of life “moving forward” but freeze-framed and thriving beyond the losses.

Where are we really? All of us…do we know? What great undone “thing” suspends us as we advance, clings to us as we strip away whatever we can? I don’t want to miss anything… and yet… the most we can do, most of the time, is feast as we go, trust as we flow and stay aware of how much power we do have, love-power. Everything else is just clutter.

j. ruth kelly, 2013, all rights reserved
j. ruth kelly, 2013, all rights reserved

Swoons

“If I must be wrung through the paradox — broken into wholeness, wring me around the moon; pelt me with particles from the dark side. Fling me into space; hide me in a black hole. Let me dance with devils on dead stars. Let my scars leave brilliant traces, for my highborn soul seeks its hell — in high places.” Avah Pevlor Johnson

j. ruth kelly, all rights reserved
j. ruth kelly, all rights reserved

 

Winds

Your reach runs
deep here,
stretches across

worlds,

And the winds whip through my clothes,
grabbing at all the cloaks,
finding warm,
those parts of me unborn

but knowing…

You know you could slam me
against this wall
and I’d only be grateful for the solid flesh crush,
something other than
ethereal surreal
whisperings,
something more than
mere haunts
of visceral beckoning taunting the real raw
of all these edges
rounded and receiving

all these words in wind whispering,
all these words telling our humanity,

refusing more civilized structures,
turning unexpected corners,
relentlessly chasing great big freight trains,
spinning along their

locomotion,

all the way to this here, this now,
all these words on the wind
grabbing at me,
crashing my refusal,
turning my head towards the sun…

towards the knowing within…

j. ruth kelly, all rights reserved
j. ruth kelly, all rights reserved

Begging Our Delusions

We are this tapestry, a richly weaving and woven wandering…
threads flowing from and to, drawing lives together in unity…
‘though we pretend our isolation, a desolate disparity of beliefs,
distortions of hope and confusion of purpose…
in spite of all our chaos-making madness,
these loving lines defy us, insisting our lives aflame with beauty,
begging our delusions melt away, clamoring our best for new days.

life on fire
life on fire

Long After

leaning our yearning bellies,
stretching our bone-tired limbs to a sky
whose blue depths suggest our lives a thread among many,
so many weaving and woven, speaking and spoken trails of being
along a path more varied than we allow ourselves to know
as we sprawl out under sun, sighing,
knowing so much of the smallest “truths” posing rightness
and in our knowing an assurance overdone,
not quite real until we allow ourselves to feel it all,
to welcome the sink seep into bones
this deep awareness of the hues we all provide
this grand canvas that is life,
eternal.
in spite of all evidence to the contrary,
we hum a melody long after we’re gone…

j. ruth kelly, 2013, all rights reserved
j. ruth kelly, 2013, all rights reserved

Creating Mystery

inevitable opening, releasing our tight enclosure,
hush of hallowed relentless holdings, breaking what was, is…
standing out from quietest covering, emerging this song something,
melody musing our unity regardless, regardless of
the dance without feet, the call without word…
all answers ‘though no one asked,
the hearing without sound,
the love-fusion without touch endlessly touching depths, worlds within,
embrace of fire and water, reaching the out-of-reach,
intimacy hiding in the open…
resounding feltness ripping away cloaks no longer useful,
relevance embracing deeper resonance, a creating mystery,
enlightening journey of we as one as all…

j. ruth kelly, 2013, all rights reserved
j. ruth kelly, 2013, all rights reserved

Eternal Patterns

For sun’s song through trees’ outstretched arms
and
the most supreme grace of hugs
from three birthed
but birthing me,
I turn towards each day
regardless of,
because of all the challenges
surreal and intriguing.
Life is precious fleeting
but pulsing eternal patterns,
a tapestry of wholeness felt
as love unfolds us all –
when we reach with hearts of faith,
refusing fear.

j. ruth kelly, 2013, all rights reserved
j. ruth kelly, 2013, all rights reserved

Magick Making…

we fall all over ourselves…
bending, stretching, reaching for jewels
as if they aren’t
at our feet and just to the left of right,
beyond the ideas of what should be
or thoughts of who has more integrity.
flowers bloom late,
singing in the pelting melt of sky
melodies defying loss,
haunting what remains –
elixir fragrant, magick making
love, love, love…
potions conjuring newness
calling one more dance
on the edge of autumn’s field.

j. ruth kelly, 2013
j. ruth kelly, 2013

Three

stripping pretenses,
unfolding oceanic
shifts within soul’s reign

Three
Photo by J. Ruth Kelly, All Rights Reserved 2013