Here is what you need to do....Poetry for the Summer Solstice. Let's celebrate the SUPER in the NATURAL!



Here is What You Need to Do

by Marcie Telander



Here is what you need to do

You need to turn

all your sorry finances over to

your dog.

Your companion animal

understands the perfect

exchange-rate:

Only the currency of love

has value.



You need to stop

everything

the moment Grandmother Spider

drops into

your world.

Here is the ultimate note of

life

and death,

your private preview

of destiny.



You need to recognize that

your neighbor’s cat, your local raven,

rabbit, pigeon, raccoon,

hamster, vole, junebug

are all better advisors than

lawyer, counselor,

doctrinaire priest.



In one square yard of

the earthed place

you think you own,

there are more shamans,

gurus, and

teachers

than you could ever outlive.



In an inch of dirt,

a cubic foot of air,

a teacup of dust,

a mouthful of water,

the divine devices and voices

of Nature

roar.



What you need to do

is have ears to hear them

whispering like thunder in

the intimate dew,

guiding, instructing:



“Turn over any stone

and a master will appear.”





LET'S PAY ATTENTION TO OUR MIDSUMMER NIGHTS' DREAMS!

The Midsummer Full Moon (June 26) through the New Moon (August 11) are profound times for beckoning guidance form the inner Dream Teacher and launching delicious new creativity! For the Celts and Northern Traditions of Earth-centered spirituality, Litha, or Midsummer, is the Natural High—the Zenith of the Summer's creation and re-creation. A perfect time to write poetry, make music, make love and play in Nature.

To beckon Mama Psyche, who brings us messages from the Universal through the Unique, think of writing your wishes in a Dream Note. Simply request general guidance or directions on a specific question by writing it directly on a piece of paper. Fold this three times. Voice your needs out loud. In the morning, open the note and receive the guidance that was created for you during the mysteries and magic of Midsummer Wisdom.

The call to creativity that Midsummer demands is captured in the following poem. I was awakened, 15 years ago, on a brilliant, Moonlit Midsummer's Eve. It was 3AM and I was drawn, like mortals enthralled in Titania's realm, between Sleep and Waking. I wandered into the kitchen, and there in the moonlight I saw a beam of silver-blue outlining my fridge! I had just received a box of magnetic refrigerator words from a friend AND I was drawn by the completely blank white space of the fridge door. And then, as in a dream, I saw how the magnetic words should be arranged in that glistening, waiting space. I do not remember making this poem. When I woke in the morning, it was to poetry that only Puck, the Faeries or a fine Solstice sauvignon blanc could have inspirited.






Le Petit Mort (The little death)



He did worship

the shadow goddess

still and essential

the will gone

tiny pink part

delicate

urge.



But I

let

lie

beneath me

all mad moments of

summer-like bood.



Languid near-language

lazy wind

garden rusting and honey drunk

peach bare

petal ache

never asking

bitter life

but for my sweeter death.