Activism, Animals, Environment, Health & Wellness, Liberation, poetry, Prose, Yoga

Rocky Mountain High

Apple

Of my eye…

Why did anyone name

New York City

The Big Apple?

Surely they never saw

The Rocky Mountains

For these juicy peaks  

Appear to be

The biggest apples

That my eyes have ever picked

Rock Steady

Silent witness

Your jagged edges

Pierce the sky

Like a royal crown in sunlight

Rendering beautiful and warm

The cold ugly fact that

Our lives can feel

Broken

Craggy

Irregular

Rugged

Uneven

Barbed

Cleft

And we can still stand strong

(Don’t know where I’m going

Just know that I am

Happy to be 

Here,

Where I am, for

Now

How long does Here & Now last?)

There is no throne on Earth

That can raise anyone

To the level of your majesty

And yet people prostrate

Before petty thrones

Encrusted with jewels

Splintered from your sides

In  a farcical display

Of missing the peak

By magnifying the Human Ego

At the expense of the Environment

Great Mountains:

Dissolve our arrogance

Our ignorance

Our folly

And our greed

Humbled by the persistent creed

Of a presence so lovely and generous

May we realign

With a real source of

Awe

Praise be

Mountain Spirits

~ Sandi H.

Boulder, Colorado

Summer 2018

Liberation, Music, poetry, Prose, Yoga

Stepping Up

There is a Mountain
That I want to climb
And for so many years
I have exhausted myself
Walking in circles around its base
But somehow, today, something is different
Maybe I’m just tired
Of making myself dizzy
Because today I hear a voice that says,
Hey stupid!
Mountains can only be climbed
By stepping up…

~ Sandi H.

Boulder, Colorado

August 2018

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Meditation, Music, poetry, Prose, Yoga

prose: unborn giants

 

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Handstand at sunrise over Wonderland Lake, photo by Diana Shangguan, Boulder, Colorado July 2018

Unborn Giants

Do you ever

Feel

Like you have to look up

Every word you want to use?

Like you no longer know

What a word really

Means

Whether it really fits

The idea in your head?

Or the idea in your

Heart?

In what womb do ideas grow

Before emerging

To take shape

In the world?

Can ideas become

So so so

Big

Before ever being born

That they no longer fit

Any words

Any forms

Any framework

To express them

To dress them

To make them

Presentable?

Perhaps

Naked ideas

Only come to reality

In the realm of

Sheer sound

Where their forms

Matter less than

The Way they form

Music

Might well be

The only vagina

For unborn giants

To enter the world

~ Sandi H.

Boulder, Colorado

August 2018