Friday, December 23, 2011

Shakespeare's Earring (A poem)

Dr. Dee sets angels dancing between your ears…
            Poor Harry, afraid the Muse will desert you
                        if he deigns this favour.
                                    Lord Southampton,
Long since cat caught dragonfly—
            Virgin Queen Olympics, wrestlers fully dressed,
                        There but for your Vermeer morning,
                                    clever scorching lips go I:
                                                Ideogrammic (keep them guessing!) Method,
                                    Mr. W.H., H.W.; What-the-Hell?
                        What the Purgatory?
            Crocodile half-steps into Limbo
not much of a story.

Dr. Dee sets devils dancing under your cap…
            Poor Harry, afraid you will disdain him, if he does,
                        under the greenwood tree of afternoon nap.

Sandalwood fans open and close
etched by elves with forest scenery
griffins unfold their wings
emerald of listening:

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Reclaiming Your Ancient Egyptian SOUL: An experiential workshop with Bruce P. Grether

Dear Friends:

Vividly I recall looking up the side of the Great Pyramid at Giza in the year 1957. I was four years old. I thought it looked like a rocky roadway to the center of the sky, and in a certain sense, that's exactly what it is! The Egyptian civilization peristed for several thousand years, and like the pryamids themselves, much of it still IS with us.

The Egyptians of antiquity always remained closely connected with Nature, no matter how "civilized" they became. That unbroken link with living things, the environment and natural cycles, gave them tremendous vitality and joy in living! Eventually the world changed around them so radically, that their culture faded away... or did it?

In a real sense so much of our world today reflects what those clever and canny people created. As our own civilization has gone global, most people in today's world have at least some deep roots in Ancient Egypt. Whether your link is genetic, historical--or perhaps even previous lifetimes?--to reconnect with that core aspect of yourself helps you make sense of today's world. It can help you thrive through the radical changes now unfolding.

For over fifty years I have studied Ancient Egypt. Now, in order to share my enthusiasm and knowledge I offer a workshop that will arouse the essence within you that already knows these things. The subject is not actually so complex as it may seem... a handful of stories and images can be absorbed quickly and helps you make sense of the whole thing.

You will be guided through vivid meditative visualizations, offered simple experiences and sounds to bring the subject to life, and given a packet of original materials I have created that serve as a key to open the door of your heart to Eternal Egypt, the archetype of that realm.

"Reclaiming Your Ancient Egyptian SOUL: An experiential workshop with Bruce P. Grether":

  * Discover the Seven Sacred Spirits of Your Soul
  * Reconnect your human nature with Nature itself
  * Learn the intuitive key to all Egyptian writing and art
  * Be able to "read" Egyptian culture without further study
  * Remember who you are on the deepest levels
  * Allow your Third Eye to open
  * Connect with Ancestors

I am honored to present this workshop at Wimberley's Premier Yoga Studio, Heart of Texas Yoga ( ) in Wimberley on Sunday, March 4th, 2012, from 1:30-5 PM.

I you feel at all drawn to this experience, please check this link for more  information, and for how to register:

You can also respond to this email if you are interested.

I always love to hear from you!

Peace & (((HUGS)))

Nada Te Turbe*
      -- Theresa of Avila
*(Let Nothing Disturb You)

Friday, December 9, 2011

How to Thrive in 2012 and Beyond!

As the amazing year 2011 draws to a close, I’m outside my house on the Ravine Bench to observe and meditate upon the Moon that is nearly full again. The night is chilly, my breath blows visibly before my face, and the vivid white disk in the sky floats embedded in a lovely aura that seems delicately fashioned of iridescent feathers.
            The Moon speaks to me on many levels without and within me. To anyone who listens deeply (including you!) this world says the same essential thing. Just as the Aztecs and some other cultures often showed the Moon and Sun at opposite sides of the same image, the moonlit night speaks of the sunlight daytime. The deep, deep secret here speaking from your inner heart is this: Duality always whispers silently the unavoidable, unimaginable truth of Oneness!
            Duality exists only to remind us that in reality all is One. Once you settle into this kind of deep listening to the Voice of the World, all Sacred Numbers can proliferate from there from nothing. As the great sage Lao Tzu said: “Out on nothing comes the One; out of One comes the Two; out of Two comes the Three; from Three comes All Things.”
            You actually need no book, guru or teacher to “get” this. The simplest insights like this make the whole world legible and meaningful to you. You can read the significance of the wonders of the physical, material world as an expression of Spirit without a need to study or interpret anything. Your inner self knows.
For example, the same profound Oneness can even be seen in such artworks as the remarkable paintings of the Mexican artist Frido Kahlo, who sometimes showed both Sun and Moon at left and right of her paintings. Through her pain and personal drama, that great woman saw deeply into the heart of the mystery. Allow awareness of Oneness to sort things out naturally—it does this!
Listen deeply and the year 2012 becomes an adventure in which anything is possible.

Bruce P. Grether is a regular Austin All Natural. He lives in Wimberley where he offers a workshop called “Reclaiming Your Ancient Egyptian Soul,” and other workshops. Find him on Twitter @BrucePGrether. To explore some of the worlds Bruce creates in his writing and for workshop info visit .

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Crushed Petals (A poem)

You read to me from the Upanishads
Where lions come to drink
Beneath the bridge
At the kosmic brink.
From the white peacock flows
The milk that always expands
A million eyes shine all around:
Serendipity understands.
You keep me between your hands
And I pray with song
With winged heart;
A rainbow where my colors belong
And cannot be taken apart.
I give you my geometry
And letters from A to Z!

Invisible eyes
And jaguar skin
Where you can see within
To my skeleton.
I dance like a starship
Shudder at the shore—
Changes howl and grip
Beneath Heaven’s floor.
The radiant skull
That feeds your hole
Is not emptiness to me
Nor is it full.
I am the hummingbird
Frozen in your hands.

The gentle sound of water
Growls like weakness in my knees.
You are the foxy daughter
Of miraculous symphonies.
Walk on fire,
Stroll the sea,
Seemingly unaware
Of oxidation and gravity.
I know your eyes are blue fishes;
In Atlantis I’m the centaur
Then the mounted bowman of Aryans;
Now the arrow returning to Source.
I am the shaft of Light to the Sun,
In the Garden of Earthly Delights.
The voice of the turtle
Scatters seeds in the endless night.

Know me by my bones…
For the flowers are magnetic centers
Pollen spins in LOADING ZONES
Where the Grand Insect enters!

And all in Hyacinth do you come
Here to the House of the Sun!

Chitter and gossip of bats
Beginning to rouse/

I add myself to the Magick Circle of Elk.

Daylight dips into the sweet rose
Her bower of flowers chastely.

Luminous colors of the Garden breathe deep.

Scarlet and feathers become her in sleep.

I am the can-opener
Of your canned heat.
My flame between your hands.
You lived like a poisonous frog
All over South America.
Meditation rustles its feathers
As the unseen becomes visible…
O Volleyball
And your tanned legs
Leap to spike the ball
Over the net
                                              Into my dream.

Thursday, November 24, 2011

Are You Ready To THRIVE?

Following several nights of overcast, it's clear and cold again. The heavenly vault at 3:33 AM when I'm outside on the Ravine Bench is a dome of darkness studded by the loveliest gems in existence. Though I look forward to the sharp Horns of the Moon only a couple of days away from the New phase, Luna does not rise until 4:44 AM Eastern Time according to the Farmer's Almanac.

On profound cellular levels I recognize those stars "out there" as perfect reflections of the deepest microcosm of inner space within my matter. "As Within, So Without." These are One. Indeed, we live in times that demand alchemical wisdom, the ability to transmute realities, and alter consciousness at will, the very definition of Real Magick.

Clearly the experience of what we call "time" now accelerates for our species and in fact goes exponential even as I tap this into the keyboard! So to gaze up at the stars and understand that this is also gazing deep within myself at the molecules and atoms I'm composed of, helps to keep me more balanced... it brings Deep Peace.

Plus I cannot recommend too highly a marvelous little book, THE GOLDEN MOTORCYCLE GANG, which concerns riding smoothly into the year 2012 and beyond. This small gem by Jack Canfield and William Gladstone is both a delightful story and a resource guide for Conscious Evolution at this time on Planet Earth. Likewise there is a fascinating film called THRIVE, that you may be able to watch free on Youtube if you search for "Thrive full movie." The film is beautifully crafted and though it ventures into some dark conspiracy issues concerning economics, it's responsibly designed to overall inform, inspire and encourage. Watch it to the end and you will not regret the 2 hour investment! I promise!

"Our crisis is a birth. We are one living system and we have come to the limit of one phase of natural growth on a finite planet… We must learn ethical evolution quickly… As we seek to facilitate a gentle birth, a graceful and nonviolent transition to the next stage of our evolution, we will discover a natural pattern, a design of our birth transition, and develop a plan to cooperate with this design.”
     -- Barbara Marx Hubbard

Resources for Conscious Evolution on an Accelerating Planet:

Sunday, November 20, 2011

H.O.M.E. (Humanity's One Mother Earth)

The beautiful garden where I live can be entered from the driveway through a gate that Tomas made in the form of a copper spiderweb studded with colorful glass jewels. This web offers a glimpse of the lush living things within and merely a hint of the Deep Magick of co-creating with Nature that manifests there. The path curves with excellent Feng-Shui, to invite a flow of energy among the growing and flowering things, and helps to keep it vital, vibrant, flush with life.
      Tomas says Nature does all the work; I know better, for he co-creates exquisitely with Nature.
      This place is his heart and his inner world turned outward and made visible.
      The image of the front porch (above) suggests the marvelous integration of human presence with natural life-forms. And the title here, possibly one too many acronyms from me (?) is one I've significantly modified. Originally during the escapist 1980s "H.O.M.E." was coined to mean "High Orbital Mini-Earths," or space colonies in orbit--complete with their own biosphere.
      A cool idea to be sure, however as the intervening decades have unfolded and point more than ever to the importance of a conscious connection with the living planet. Much as I'd love to see our species inherit the stars, it's only possible if we end our suicidal War Against Nature.
      First we've got to make peace with ourselves, inside. That's where it all really happens and stems from, just as a plant grows from its roots.
      With a million trendy distractions, this process requires deliberate focus.
      Not long ago I said to a new friend, "Now I'm thinking there may be hope for our species."
      "I hope not," she said without hesitation, and I admired her honesty.
      In reality, the Earth matters more than our species. It's presumptuous to think we can "Save the Earth," for it has its own life, power, momentum. Our relationship with it is immensely complex and collective, around 7 billion of us now, to one Earth! What we can do is focus awareness on how to treat the planet better, with love, care and respect--for our own sake as much as the Earth's sake.
      Is there actually a difference between ourselves and the Earth? That belief in such a separation, a difference of interests is the problem itself! It's a matter of awareness.
      In search of a more current explication for H.O.M.E. I recently heard a little voice inside say: "Humanity's One Mother Earth."
      No human is exempt from this truth, this reality. And the Old Earth is over.
      Deep inside, in your own heart you know all of these things.
      This is the New Earth.

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Your Inner Light Shines Always… All Ways!

The Full Moon seems to race across the Hill Country sky like a pearlescent mothership—only of course it’s the clouds that are racing. I’m outside the house at 2:30 AM. Luna actually hovers and moves with the Cosmic Wheels among which she swims.
The Moon has powerful influences on all Life on Earth, including we bipedal primates. Police logs and ER records demonstrate the spike in unusual, often dangerous or extraordinary human behaviors linked with that beautiful satellite of our plant.
When you ride the Medicine Wheel, or the Sacred Circle of the Year, call the Powers of the Four Directions, or however you may honor your place in the world, the potent traditional imagery also tells of a deep mystery. Whether American Indian, shamanic, or Wiccan—or on any path that simply honors Nature and human nature, the circle imagery reminds you of a seeming boundary, between without and within.
This boundary does not actually exist. “The center of the circle is everywhere, and the circumference is nowhere found,” is a maxim often associated with circle workings. Likewise, “As Within, So Without,” expresses the essence of both magick and alchemy.
The current spiritual and philosophical interest in non-duality, or Oneness arrives at just the right moment. It’s something you cannot describe, define, or actually talk about effectively. True Oneness you cannot create, leave, or enter. It simply IS. One insight that emerges is that separation is the cause of all suffering.
Within you and without you are merely reflections of the same thing. Your inner light is the same as that which illuminates all you see that appears to be outside of you. It’s the light of awareness, the consciousness you are.
To simply grok Oneness (rather than try to understand it!) simply sit with the word, and expand beyond it… allow it to sort out all the stuff that politics, religion, and the intellect cannot really deal with. Try it. It likes you.

Bruce P. Grether offers a workshop called “Reclaiming Your Ancient Egyptian Soul.” Find him on Twitter @BrucePGrether. To explore some of the worlds Bruce creates in his writing and for workshop info visit .


Friday, November 11, 2011

A Favorite Book Reborn Even Better: CREATION by Gore Vidal!

Wow! I am indeed a bibliophile--perhaps the term book-aholic is not too harsh for my addiction to reading, though in an effort to be kind to myself I should say "bookworm." I love worms! After all, since I met my partner and moved to Tejas, I do have a life and more going on than reading and writing.
      When I lived in Estes Park, Colorado, in the early 1980s I recall the publication of Gore Vidal's novel CREATION--which I still consider his finest work. I saw the juicy paperback with a cover, overall yellow with an intriguing historical figure or two rendered nicely. Already a big fan of the brilliant author, I immediately purchased it at the little McDonald Bookshop on Elkhorn Avenue.
      The novel vividly brings to life the ancient world during a key interval of the 5th century BCE and plausibly weaves a fictional character's life into events that take him on a journey to both India and China. Along the way he encounters Lord Buddha and Confucius. We even get a glimpse of Socrates as a young bricklayer, prior to his career as a philosophical teacher.
      The narrator is one Cyrus Spitama, grandson of Zoroaster. Living in his old age in Athens during the time of Pericles, while they await a decisive invasion from Sparta, Cyrus tells the story of his life to his nephew Democritus, destined to become another famed Greek philosopher.
      Nourishing, informative entertainment and a dazzling feat of storytelling, to say the least.
      Recently, after rediscovering Vidal via the film of MYRA BRECKINRIDGE that is supposedly so awful (though I find it a delightful and bizarre hoot!) I happened upon a paperback re-issue of CREATION. Turns out that in 2002 some 21 years after the original publication, Vidal was able to restore significant parts of the novel removed by a well-meaning editor who butchered his plot.
      Indeed, the boyhood and youth of Cyrus growing up in the court of Darius of Persia and becoming a close friend of Xerxes is, as Vidal said in a new author's note, "the spine to the narrative."
      What a delicious and delightful restoration! Is there any better way to enjoy history than a plausibly accurate and exquisitely written historical novel? Well, perhaps only by visiting the sites and doing your own seances or channelling, I suppose…
      Of this novel the eminent Mary Renault wrote: "it is a very long time since I read a book of more than five hundred pages with no awareness of its length, beyond a wish at the end that it was longer."

Saturday, November 5, 2011

The Clowns of Samhain

"The veil is thin," Hyperion says to me while we sit not far from the large Pentacle of Pearl inscribed on the ground of the yard. (It's after dark on 11.1.11.)
      "Most definitely," I say, and switch on the small lantern that is part of my Samhain costume. "You know, if you think about it, it's not only the Dead--everything in existence is our Ancestor… we're related to All Things."
      Of course, Hyperion already knows this. He's a wise Elf.
      We've enjoy a meditative ritual walk along the points of the Pentacle, which are: Love, Law, Knowledge, Liberty, Wisdom, and back to Love. At each apex of the circle a priestess (or in one case a priest) welcomes is, offers some insight, then ushers us to the next point.
      "This is one of those universal holy days, a truly archetypal thing that directly reflects the actual cycles of Nature, huh?" I say.
      Hyperion says, "Most definitely!"
      Indeed, it's the reality behind Halloween, the Day of the Dead in Mexican and South American traditions, and even those 3 Catholic feast days of honoring ancestors, which also have pagan roots. All boil down to this time of energy shifting inward, from the outer cycle of growth to the dying-back of vegetation, the glide within to meet the inner light, regenerate and eventually re-emerge more brilliant than ever.
      Timely how this time it comes not long before 11.11.11--an interesting date that look like intense synchronicity when you write it in Arab numerals! Actually, Hyperion and I tend to go by the astronomy rather than the calendar, so the actual Cross-Quarter Day is on 11.7.11, @ 12:27 PM. Only we do love this celebration with our pagan cohorts.
      Indeed, what we experience as "Time" does seem to accelerate now while we approach the Singularity when it goes exponential. Alignment with Galactic Center and all! Exciting times on Planet Earth; not scary unless you're still sleepwalking.
      To the mind in an awakening process, it's an adventure fraught with both danger and opportunity.
      And total uncertainty in which no one really knows what's coming.
      Occupy the Universe, right?!
      Let the doors open…

“From apex point of sex doth flow
The gifts of love that we would know,
That lures us ever toward our pride
Which shines as law and does provide
Awareness of our self’s domain;
And knowledge of all things arcane.
A move toward power stirs within
Power shared with other kin.
As waves of passion fill our souls
We grow in wisdom; life’s true goal.
By the Iron and by the Pearl
I claim my being
I claim my world.”

Bright Blessings!


Wednesday, November 2, 2011


New Summary

An apparently young Englishman who claims to be 274 years of age approaches an American anthropologist in modern Bangkok, Thailand. Though the scholar cannot believe this assertion, the Englishman displays his torso covered with magickal tattoos, and then demonstrates inexplicable supernatural powers by literally vanishing before the scholar’s eyes. He leaves behind a flash-drive that contains his story. According to his account, John Nathaniel Perch, the purported author, was born in 1736 at Ayutthaya, the capital city of the mysterious Far Eastern kingdom then called Siam.

The novel is John’s story told in third person. In its heyday the fabulous city of Ayutthaya, built on a river island, boasts 360 gold-covered stupa spires, an immense royal palace for the divine King of Siam, and an adjacent palace just for the sacred white elephants. Though considered a "hidden and forbidden" kingdom, the capital Ayutthaya also hosts communities of Europeans who represent the various Occidental East India Companies. Unknown to John's birth mother, the native women of the household conduct a traditional rite to appease a spirit of infant mortality called the Purchasing Mother. The rite seems to be successful, however it is only partly so…
John grows up to become a self-indulgent and unmotivated young man. After his mother Cynthia is widowed, rather than return to England, she chooses to marry the Frenchman, Bruno Therieux, a childhood friend who has always adored her. Bruno, who has tutored John and long been a friend an mentor, now becomes his stepfather. When an old friend from Paris, now Father Titus of the Jesuits visits on his way to China, ripples are set in motion that willlead to the destruction of the city. Beset by the Purchasing Mother that has returned for him despite his maturity, John loses his temper with Bruno and becomes alienated, much to the distress of both men.
Moving from his parents’ house, the young man lives in a brothel and becomes addicted to opium. The persistent demon returns stronger than ever seeking to claim him after all. His only hope lies in acquiring magickal tattoos that cover his entire body, believed to provide extraordinary powers. So he undergoes the ordeal of acquiring the “sua yantra” and is transformed. In his case, the ability to become invisible and the invulnerability promised prove surprisingly real, and he is able to see into the animistic Spirit World of the ancient native culture. Persuaded to move back into his parents’ home as the final Burmese invasion closes in, John marries a Chinese woman named Jao Jing-li whom he that he truly loves. Soon she become pregnant with his child.
When the Burmese besiege the city in a final conquest, John helps his stepfather in a valiant attempt to rescue an elderly royal friend who lives on the island, and is captured by the invading army. John’s wife leaves the compound in search of him, and is captured by the Brumese. In a prison camp for slaves Jing-li dies giving birth to twins, the second of which survives. Other women manage to get the child out of the camp into safe hands.
Even as the city is being annihilated in 1767, the Burmese must withdraw because the Chinese Emperor has invaded their own kingdom from the north. As John is marched towards slavery in Burma among thousands of Siamese captives, he looks for an opportunity to use his powers in order to liberate his fellow slaves. At last the Purchasing Mother appears to him and instead of loathing, he views her with compassion as a tragic figure. He realizes that she may not be so evil after all. She urges him to do what he can for his fellow captives. He succeeds by the full employ of his powers and turns the slavers’ weapons against them, though the experience becomes a tortured memory thereafter.
John’s whereabouts remain unknown to his agonized parents, who at last reluctantly plan to depart from Ayutthaya forever. Finally he leaves them a letter and makes his survival known to them, with a promise that after they return to Europe he will visit them when his own young son is old enough for such a journey. He survives into the present day and decides that he must tell his extraordinary tale.

(For more concerning this extraordinary novel I began to draft 25 years ago + ro read a FREE sample, please click HERE.)

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Fog Unbound

When hilltops vanish into fog
Real Magick happens…
The Language of Birds
Gets automatically translated
By the heart—
Occluded brilliance is the Sun Dog;
Luna, a feline principality
Beyond words.
Breathing is Fine Art!

Oh yes—birdcalls echo through
Ravine muffled and softened at the edges.
All of the morning becomes no more,
No less than me and you
Tiptoe along limestone ledges;
The layer-cake of Mother Earth’s
Trillions upon trillions of fossilized lovers…
This life is no game, nothing to rehearse
It’s the real deal now and here
Under the covers!

Yes, Father Earth, let me pull back your mask
Let me undress all your reasons
To withhold any particle of love;
You are all 3 X 3 colors of quarks
In the innermost Temple of the Atom—
Mute labyrinths
You offer in darkness:
Soft and hazy brilliance of your blue elliptical soul—
This White Dove
Of mystery
You call down with open arms

Abide, abide, abide…
Honor unspoken names of Mother Eve—
Here’s the thing to spread your wings:
On such a hilltop hidden,
Forever twilight
There is no Other Side
And the crack between the worlds
Remains open

Saturday, October 15, 2011

What You See Is What You Are!

See what's in the photo above? The truth is, it's you… and before you object, let me dance around a little here… plus, you may already know this dance!
      Paradise Garden, where I live, shows new signs of growth and regeneration: tendrils, leaves and buds--now that autumn is in the air! Sounds like springtime, huh? Well, it is kind of a rebirth feeling. The Plant Kingdom and its animal kin have perked up and show signs of renewed vibrancy after months of extreme heat.
      We're still in drought conditions, despite the blessed 3 inches of rainfall last weekend. Perhaps it's also the nice cooler nights, sometimes in the upper 40s, along with days no longer so hot and dry that summons tiny green leaves. Things now bloom where during the summer buds did not even form!
      There is always more to things than meets the eye. the truth is it's not only beauty that's in the eye of the beholder… everything is in the eye of the beholder!
      All these natural wonders--the huge tarantula hawk wasp that buzzes up and flies away, the elegant earth star fungi that constellate around the base of the live oak, the baby spiny lizard that darts up onto a rock to bask in the sunlight--everything I observe requires me as observer to exist in my reality.
      It still fascinates me to realize that everything I view as "out there," beyond the boundaries of my body, is actually images created in my mind with the help of my brain. All I see is actually within me.
      Likewise, life does not "happen" to me.  I am life.
      The truth is a handful of immediate realities that you have no good reason to doubt actually exist. Your body (unless you're a disembodied spirit reading this!) is a truth. Matter may be the dancing emptiness of atoms that science describes, not a solid object as it can seem, yet it does exist. So does Nature and the Earth, the Moon and Sun, the planets and stars. Beyond that it's just beliefs, ideas.
      What you see is what you get? Not necessarily. You may not get everything you see, however you are everything you see! What an astonishing awareness!
      What truly matters is there's no such thing as separation.
      You are the little tree frog in the photo above.
      The frog and you are One.
      Form is emptiness.
      Buddha said.

Sunday, October 9, 2011

Balance on a Swiftly Tilting Planet

Where I often find balance and get centered these days is by really tuning in the Plant Kingdom. In particular the Egyptian Blue Lotus that grows in my pond, the Maid of Orleans Jasmine in the greenhouse, and the Dolly Parton Rose in front of the kitchen window. Even when the breeze is tossing it around, you can sense the deep inner stillness of a plant. That stillness touches into the limitless and the infinite…
            Most people have noticed that not only is time accelerating (along with so many other global factors) but lately wherever our planet is heading, it seems out of control. Of course it is not controlled—except perhaps by Gaia itself, as well as our collective will as Gaia’s youngest and perhaps most errant children.
            There are a number of things anyone can do to regain balance on our swiftly tilting, rapidly evolving planet. First, as so many factors such as human population, technological advancement, and environmental degradation accelerate measurably, everything heads toward what mathematics calls a “Singularity.” This means a sudden shift so extreme we cannot predict it. (No one can!) You can consciously work to slow down, as a means to recover balance. Turn off some devices and connections, especially to mainstream media. Let go of so much “doing.” Be.
            The consumer culture that feeds the corporate hegemony is based on dissatisfaction. No matter what you have, you need something else, the next thing, instead of what you have. Consciously shift your focus to the good things you do have. Express gratitude. Tell your loved ones and your beloved how much you love them.
            Don’t buy into faddish beliefs about end times or impending dates. No one knows! If we knew the future for sure, we’d have no choice now. Surrender the need to know. Choose to express gratitude, slow down and yes—tune in plants.
Wake up and smell the flowers!

Wednesday, September 28, 2011


In the hush of sounds
The deepest Silence…
Within the Silence
The Source
Creative Word…

From which springs all utterance;
Traffic tidal over the hill
to subdued ravine crickets and frogs stunned
by these cool nights.

O yes!
scurry up the live oak
in the bright
from my
3rd Eye

Jeweled jaded gazes reflect down
incurious banditos –
along  branches to
hide shifty.

Thanks, Doc!
Indeed, sex is sacred!
I AM Yod…

Here on the Ravine Bench
after the final end of History
nothing but the fragrance
of brown rice cooking
Sacred Numbers


Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Full Moon (A poem)

It’s a fine madness…
That scribbles the scriptures of ibis-headed Tehuti
Here in this small book
Whilst leopard frogs croon and mate
By the little waterfall’s address
And a single cricket creaks;
That perfect white disk
Itself takes
A look
Over my angelic shoulder —
There’s that other, whose Secret Name
You don’t even want to know
For as seeking separates you from what you seek
All resistance: your house of cards collapses
As other crickets answer
From where…

This moonlit garden is merely changing Paradise
As the Moon itself changes,
Only it never dies
For the Garden of Life,
This eternal treasure of Prester John
Never thinks twice
Only continues to breathe…

You are the wise totality of animal lust
And we foolish humans must
Be forgiven
For our failure to remember
We ARE stardust!

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

The Voice of the Ancestors

As I crest the ridge walking in my hilly neighborhood here in Wimberley, a gust of wind picks up, rushes through the treetops and makes wonderful oceanic sounds. Instantly this takes me back to a time many years ago when a dear friend called me up and told me that her grandfather had died.
She asked if I would come over and simply be with her. It was also windy then. As we sat together in her little cabin by the Fall River in Colorado, she said, “Someone once told me that the sound of the wind is the Voice of the Ancestors.”
            This seemed more than a poetic statement to me, for somehow it felt deeply true. As I’ve discovered over the years, it’s deeper than I ever imagined. This goes beyond the apparent duality of the living and the dead… even deeper than your cellular wisdom.
            The word “breath” ultimately means “spirit,” which is the essence of life. Over time it becomes clearer that the Ancestors are not only spirits of the dead.
            You are related to everything. When you closely examine your own existence and your relation to the world you live in, you discover that you exist as part of a living Universe. No matter who you consider your Ancestors to be, or what you think and feel about them, you cannot encapsulate them any more than a grave can contain them.
            Nobody really understands the mystery of death--form dissolving back into where it came from--only it’s probably nothing like what we may imagine. It’s truly a mystery.
            The drifting essence of being comes and goes—like the wind. Rites of passage remind you that you are but an intersection. A nexus of the living and dead and things yet to be. Your own existence has ties everywhere—with family, species, ecosystem, planet, solar system, stars and Universe. For you are stardust.
            And the multiple universes fold back into themselves to speak with the voice that is you.

Tuesday, August 30, 2011



(*The western portion of Tolkien's Middle Earth where many events in The Silmarillion take place before Beleriand is destroyed and sinks beneath the sea.)

Beleriand, O Green Beleriand,
Your central spine, the mighty River Sirion, flows—
Down from your mountainous crown,
Through Elven kingdoms and great forest lands
That countless birds and beasts call home—
Flows to your ocean-touching toes,
Beleriand, O Green Beleriand!

Your northern mountain ranges reach the sky
And never sleep – while Ulmo’s waters,
West and southward flow from high
To low, where there is no name or word,
Leagues of trees cast shadows deep—
Mist and cloud by breath bestirred:
Here Thorondor, Lord of Eagles, flies
O’er meads of flowers and precipices steep,
He spreads great wings o’er all Beleriand.

Beleriand, O Green Beleriand,
League upon league of your living land
Lies to the river’s right and left hand—
From those far-eastern mountains of blue
To the western shores of timeless sand—
Here long ages lives my heart,
Though I’m only passing through
Beleriand, O Green Beleriand!

Not only Nature carves this land—
But scars of ancient battles done
Beneath the stars before the Moon and Sun:
Where sleep the seeds of future joy and sorrow
Upon the wheel of reckoning spun,
Threads of destiny unknown.

Beleriand, O Green Beleriand,
Who is She that comes with nightingales,
That walks upon tiny flowers
Yet harms them none?
That summons western ships with painted sails—
Who is She among those ancient Powers
That are Children of Il├║vatar, the One?
What is her name,
Beleriand, O Green Beleriand?

From those far-eastern mountains of blue
To the western shores of timeless sand—
Here long ages lives my heart,
Though I’m only passing through
Beleriand, O Green Beleriand!

Copyright 2011 Bruce P. Grether/ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.