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If These Hills Could Speak

If These Hills Could Speak

 

 

Last night above the hills you crept

Rain caressing the mesa as you wept

Tears of all who walked this way

Shadows of souls still wandering today

 

Listen, If only these hills could speak

Wind boisterous and bold but never meek

Land with voice, stripped raw and naked

Holding bones of the many sacred

 

Tell me who you were, what happened here

I feel your presence, strong and clear

In the still of night you visited my room

Memories of your life weaving a mystical loom

 

Speak soft and quietly if you must

I hear your whisper between grains of dust

Heat of daylight silencing the bustling squalls

As the final moment encroaches, inscribing the wall.

-Lavinia Busch, 2018

 

Ancient Spirits

Ancient Spirits

 

I walk with spirit, strong and fierce

Each crack of thunder, light does pierce

Souls of those wandering long ago

Traces of energy as if arrows to a bow

 

One moment the valley is quiet in repose

The only sound witnessed, the squawk of the crows

Suddenly wind dances and spirit beckons

Drawing in those who dare to reckon

 

The mesa stands, resolute as before

As if, representing a historical door

Breathing in the air, lungs holding life

Stone to a hearth, bone to a knife

 

Storm clouds billow from the crest of hills

Ancient spirits painting with time honored will

This place is forever present, no matter the map

Spoken in the rumble of each thunder clap

 

-Lavinia Busch, 2018

 

Mesa Verde. What words can one speak to paint a picture worthy of the actual? It seems trite to write about a place that speaks and sings as if teaming with life still today.  The storms roll in and can be seen miles away in all directions. The ravens playfully squawk, taunting all those who venture this sacred ground. The sun playfully kisses the tops of the mesa and the moon shines with a silver beauty reserved for ancient souls and brilliant spectacles of light.

 

I could stay in a place like Mesa Verde and be content for the remainder of my life. The dynamic energy is humbling and begs to be explored, not superficially as a passing tourist might. This place is a living, breathing organism and would take a lifetime to understand if only in some small way. I am certain that given the opportunity, I would listen intently to the sky and hope to hear what it has to say.

 

Returning to Los Angeles fills me with a deep sense of melancholy with the knowing that Mesa Verde lives on. Maybe this is the way the ancients felt, leaving the majesty of these cliffs and the intimacy of these rocks. I understand that thumbprints remain on some walls after having been smoothed by ancient builders.  What I would give to rest my finger upon this ancient graffiti and feel the spirits of long ago.

 

I suspect if given the opportunity, I might find a kindred soul among the ancients. Being one who has never felt of this time, the intimate relationship between people, land and spirit speaks to me as no other place has. How can one return to the bustle of city life, rush hour traffic and the disease of busyness? For the moment, I plan to soak in all this place has to offer in the whispers of the wind and the painting of the sky. I will imprint the memory of this place until I can return once again to walk with the ancients.

 

Let The Trees Speak

Let The Trees Speak

 

Quiet a voice and silence a mind

Listen for what those know, remind

Ancient, regal, centurion and true

Reaching, never quite touching blue

 

Long knowing what is hidden below

Secrets, stories buried deep in the snow

Mystical, magical, wondrous and true

Let the trees speak as if hearing you

 

Listen for words etched with the pen of time

Just with caressed skin, releasing what binds

Wells of energy deep within all that begins

Streams of light shimmer, radiating from within

-Lavinia Busch, 2018

Becoming

Becoming

Trail of 100 Giants, Sequoia National Forest ©Dylan Mattina, 2018

 

Becoming

Every second, minute, hour and day

Stretching of skin, silent and frayed

Lightness reflects, unfolding of limbs

Becoming undone, staring over a rim

 

Overwhelming confusion but craving more

Fear as companion, leaning into the shore

Sprays of water quenching the greatest of thirsts

A soul in need of water most certainly bursts

 

Water as salvation, washing away

Fear, frustration, apathy and malaise

Resistance is futile, this much is true

Disruptive discovery, wading deeper in blue

 

A blossom becoming, a flower is born

One petal at a time as if adorned

Beauty is never the goal in the end

Purity, kindness and grace will mend

 

Slowly, effortlessly, light becomes free

Unlocking the door, holding the key

Deeper and deeper reaching far and between

Sewing together, becoming the seam

-Lavinia Busch

Slowly

Slowly

 

Slowly

Walking out of the darkness, shrouded in a specific heaviness

I see rays of light so bright in their intensity

Heat sears my face and a fullness grows in my heart

One foot in front of the other, slowly

 

My back guards against all misdeeds

Eyes gazing towards absolution

Comfort in the mystery, seeded in the unknown

One foot in front of the other, slowly

 

With each passing day I make some progress

Inching closer to everything

Leaving behind nothing but my shadow

One foot in front of the other, slowly

 

I begin to shed layer upon layer

Seeking a blissful lightness

Butterfly wings emerging from a cocoon

One foot in front of the other, slowly

 

Sadness, sickness, loneliness and fear

Celebration, joy, tenderness and togetherness.

Every emotion under my skin makes an appearance

One foot in front of the other, slowly

 

Days change, seasons change, people in my life change

I continue to walk forward, bit by bit

Deliberately, thoughtfully, towards only myself

One foot in front of the other, slowly

 

At first I resist, frightened and scared

Now I press forward for me, no one else

Willingly, excited with possibilities

One foot in front of the other, slowly

 

Time passes, my heart beats with anticipation

Living each adventure as it comes and goes

Slowly, I surrender to the path and allow hope to sing

Peacefully, I take yet another step and take flight.

-Lavinia Busch

 

 

Why is it that the answers I seek always seem elusive?  In practice, the old adage one step forward, two steps back leaves me disillusioned and lost. To this end, I had a deeply emotional experience while walking a few days ago. Writing poetic verse in my head with each step, I simply could not stop the words and emotions from pouring out.  After having written a full piece and walking over five miles, I cried.  Not bitter tears of sadness but tears of a profound letting go.

 

Having an experience such as this, I often question what in my personal life may be out of sorts. Troubles I have pushed down into the depths of my psyche, afraid of what a closer analysis might reveal. I am also aware that it takes a combination of events to ruffle my feathers rather than just one. I may have personal things on my mind, professional matters that are pressing and family dynamics that are stressful.  It is never just as simple as one thing; I am far too complex for that.

 

Walking and writing, I was reminded that life is not a sprint but a marathon.  Anything that is troubling me will find its way to resolution. Whether a resolution of my liking or not, it will come nonetheless.  I need not always have the answers. On this particular day, walking up one of my favorite hills, I once again made the decision to let go and resigned myself to living in and accepting the unknown.  My tears were tears of relief, fear and anticipation welcoming the space between conflict and resolution, doubt and understanding, an uncomfortable place to be sure. In my case, discomfort is always a precursor to growth. Like it or not this has always proven to be true.

 

“It has taken me quite a few years to realize the fact that most of the thoughts in my head are not necessary.”

― Bert McCoy

 

I inherently know that my life will end.  Upon the moment of my death, I may find myself still befuddled and bewildered, caught in that space between.  With this knowledge, I alone am left with the choice to step off the treadmill of indecision and soar. The process of enlightenment can be laboriously slow. Each life event comes with a specific lesson and opportunity for growth. Some of these lessons arrive quietly without much notice while others are abrupt and painful in the unfolding. The only guarantee is that the lessons will continue to present, even when I have had enough and think I cannot bear another.

 

That day on the hill, I found a momentary sense of calm and serenity. Even though life is forever proving the security I crave to be elusive, I am okay. I know I will persist, carry on and live my life to the best of my ability. Everything around me may continue to swirl and flex but I can stand in the middle of this vortex and free myself from the outcome.  I can create a steady and secure environment regardless of what outside forces move against me and become stronger for having done so. With this momentary enlightenment, taking a deep and soulful breath, I smiled. Feeling the wind on my face, the sun shining down, I allowed my mind to be still. I reveled in this stillness, a peaceful surrender to all that is unknown and may remain so. Continuing to live in the mystery is one of my greatest challenges and at the same time a beautiful gift.