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The twisted workings of the mind
As it grapples for keys to secret doors
That lead to knowledge sensed
From places and times unseen.
Scrambled attempts to untangle
The web of experience from the confines
Of the inadequate consciousness.

In dreams, in secret thoughts and musings
It taps lightly on the window of awareness,
Waiting for the veil to lift,
Probing for some hint of enlightenment,
Some encouragement that eyes can see.
Nagging, hovering, whispering, pausing,
Provoking the sleeping shadows.

Each knot untangled brings forth
A new stream of light, a new realization.
Each moment of clarity illuminates a path
That leads to expansion.
Each dot connected, each puzzle solved,
Each knowing that comes unquestioned
Polishes rust from the key that unlocks
The door to the hidden mirror.

~ Carol Dixon

Dusty Dreams

She died alone,
Found lying in her bed
On the sagging mattress
Where she bore her children,
Loved her long-gone man...
The mattress baptized
With the blood and tears of her life.

Sorting through her things
Brought guilt and wonder.
Guilt that we hadn't been there,
That we had left and not returned,
Leaving her to her solitude and memories...
Wonder came from the attic.

The single light bulb,
Bare and harsh
In the dusty, cobwebbed repository
Revealed decades of life lived
And life put away.
A china doll sat abandoned,
Leaning against the rough hewn wall,
Bald head holding vacant eyes,
Staring at the past.
Rickety spinning wheel tucked in a corner,
A wooden version of the webs
Lacing the exposed beams
Filled with rotting insulation,
Like moldy frosting
Between layers of stale cake.
Pot bellied stove
With corroded broken pipe,
Now a collector
Of discarded random artifacts
Of a past left undiscovered
Until now.
Old wooden chairs
With frayed and worn upholstery,
Still boasting of fine craftsmanship
Under the layers of dust.
Unframed canvasses
Bearing visions of beauty
Seen and reflected
With talent undiscovered
Until now.
Finely crafted piano
Wrapped in the gauzy webs
Of neglect and fractured hopes.
A scene of memories
Experienced and then forgotten
Until now.

Deep in a corner
Under dusty camouflage
Lay a tattered book.
Blowing off the evidence of years
In a cloud dispersing
Brought forth yellowed pages
Written in delicate hand
Revealing what none had known.

The chronicles of life,
Of love, of deeds, of hopes,
Of tears, of pain, of strength,
But most of all of dreams...
Dreams never fulfilled,
Yet never abandoned,
Dreams of love and laughter,
Of compassion and charity,
Of fame and example...
Dreams that fueled
Throughout long life,
Tucked neatly in pages
Grown stiff with age
Like the woman
Who dreamed them.
Dusty dreams
Abandoned only at the end,
Waiting to be reborn.

~ Carol Dixon

A Question 

Can you fully hear me 
Do you fully see me 
Can you look beyond my exterior 
And be with me in my interior 
Might you let go of what you think you know 
And hear the words that brought us to today 

Can you fully hear me, see me, 
And know that it is I 
A person of sacred worth 
That stands before you 
Ready for change. 

~ Cloud Dancer

Bracelet of Stars

A step to the left of the beat of the drum,
a silent prayer made sound,
the cry of the heart
to Spirit from spirits,
light from light,
begotten, not made,
woven in rhythms,
a weft of shade,
a warp of hide,
dance right into our lives.

​~  Dr. Dawn Karima

Streams of clear water will sing honor songs for you.
Hawks and Eagles someday will, too.
So will the sway of sweet grass, wet after rain,
As your courage is given a name,
Same as the Warriors before you.

Thunder and lightning will break your chains,
As you stop the mouths of liars,
End Mother Earth's pain.
What is done in the Spirit can not be undone,
Not by steel nor by iron,
Nor by Kingdom Come.
In wrath remember mercy.

~ Dr. Dawn Karima