Author: Sydney Lynn Haupert-Lok

wanted to know Itself as We.

It wanted to expand

its mellow, Baritone Breath into

a panorama, a multitude of

moist, rich, trembling Altos,

soaring Sopranos and

deep diving Basses 

all pinging inside Itself.

The One Heart speaks:

Creation lives in the tangle of shadows

within Me.

Creation is untangling, beginning to glow,

no longer needing shadows to grow Me,

to grow You, to grow Us.

I live within you and you

live within me.

There is no separation.

Many call Me “The Great Mystery” in

reverent, resigned tones,

and yet I tell you there is

little truth to that.

You can know me because you are Me.

You can intuit Me through your greatest sense- Feeling.

You elevate the Mind, but it is

the Heart who loves and it is

love that leads you

through your greatest lessons.

And through loving, you truly live,

moving one into the other.

Becoming each other in

every opening

of the moment.

by John Roedel

today would be a good day

for the two of us to take turns telling

each other what we remember

about the place we were before

we were born

I’ll go first

for me, I just have a few strands of

images left for me to cling to of what

I can recall

in the great before,

I remember rows and rows

of thick Juniper Trees

and the stone fountain

in front of them that

poured out the clearest

water I’ve ever see that

had little these little

radiant jelly fish swimming

around inside of it

or were they just stars?

I’m not sure – I can’t quite remember

I can recall being told by a voice

not to drink from the fountain

because doing so would send

me to Earth before I was ready

so, I didn’t

~ I wasn’t ready

not by a long shot

I rather enjoyed

this cosmic womb

I was resting in

I remember the smell

of nutmeg

it was everywhere

maybe that’s why I love Christmas

so much now?

and I remember you

oh, how I remember you

standing there in a white sun dress

or were you floating?

I’m not sure – I can’t quite remember that part

I recall the gold of your hair

blending in with the tawny sky

yes, I saw you in the before

~ long before you saw me

you were too busy laughing at a couple

dozen flamingos who were parading

around you

or were they angels?

I’m not sure – I can’t quite remember that part

Oh, how you glowed

I didn’t recognize it at the time

but you blazed like a lamp hung

up on the porch of a cabin in the bayou

glowing

like the long flame of a baptismal candle

like the new day sun over a Carolina gulf

like the burn of a campfire I want to sit around

like the way sunlight kisses stained glass

like…

one of those radiant jelly fish (or were they stars?)

that were floating in the stone fountain

that’s why you were glowing

you had just drank the water

it was your time for Earth

you were going soon

the flamingos (or were they angels?)

that were parading for you

formed a tight circle

and began to dance

their necks twisting around each other

~ forming ancient symbols

out of their contorting form

it was a choreographed

routine they have

been practicing for

all of eternity

just for you

and then I remember that

you were laughing so loud

~ watching them pirouette around you

and you were

swaying your lovely hips

to a song that nobody else

but you and the flamingos (maybe angels)

could hear

sway

sway

sway

it was entrancing

I was pulled to you

~ into the gravity of your grace

closer

then closer

closer till

I was orbiting you

like a moon

basking in the revelation of

your flamingo dance

that’s when you noticed me for the first time,

do you remember that?

you smiled

it was like lightning

~ a burst of beauty

then a few seconds later

a deep thunder in my formless body

and then

just like

that

you were gone

in a flash

I think it happened that quick

maybe you slowly faded away?

I’m not sure – I can’t quite remember that part

either way

you were gone

you were Earthbound

the flamingos (angels?) dispersed

and I was left alone

in your celestial wake

I had to follow you

I had to ~I had to ~I had to

I walked to the fountain

or was I floating?

I’m not sure – I can’t quite remember that part

and I cupped my hands down

into the glistening water

it was so cold

~ and suddenly I was very thirsty

I knew I wasn’t ready

to go but I had to find you

I had to ~I had to ~I had to

I had to chase you into the unknown

no matter the cost

no matter the danger

no matter the fact that I wasn’t ready

I took the water up to my lips

and drank

the water felt like bubbles

in my stomach

~ a couple at first

then a hundred

million more followed

I started laughing

the flamingos (angels! they were angels!

I’m sure of it now!) started their parade

around me

and I felt this gentle tugging on my soul

and I started to glow

and I couldn’t stop laughing

and that’s all I can remember

now I’m standing here

in this kitchen with you

wearing your pink pajamas

adorned with flamingos

watching you sway

your lovely hips to

a song that only you

can hear

today is a good day

to tell you that

I’m so glad

I chased you

across the cosmos

I may have not been ready for Earth

but I was ready for you

to be here

in a house surrounded

by Juniper Trees

with you

me with my coffee

(that features a sprinkles of nutmeg in it)

in my hand

and you with your

gold woven hair

watching you glow

all over again

watching you notice

me all over again

watching your smile

become a bayou lantern

watching you

sway

sway

sway

it’s like heaven

all over again

~ john roedel (johnroedel.com)

I’m a conditional atheist

God does not exist for me on
the tip of a sharpened sword

or on the lips of a sermonizing
hate-evangelist who is foaming at the mouth

or in the licking flames of a torch held
by a marching bigot or in any dogma that have been soaked in the ancient poison of guilt and self-shame

the divine doesn’t
exist for me anywhere
where wounds are being
caused in its name

I don’t know about
how any of this works
but I’ve never found
much of God in the towering
hierarchy of unchecked power

the Great Mystery isn’t a cracking whip
or a flag or an internet manifesto
or a pointed finger or a political party
or a dividing line or a box of ammo
or a corvette driven by a tv preacher
or a specific gender or a book bonfire

Creation is more of a florist
than she is a fundamentalist

the Weaver of Life is more interested
in stitching us together into a quilt
than how to separate us into metal bins

to come into relationship
with Unending Love shouldn’t
require us to loathe ourselves~ it should be the exact opposite

to know ourselves
is to know God

to love ourselves
is to love God

my love,

I believe that the divine
is just about everywhere

~ except in the slow-poison
sands of fear and control
where so many have built temples
for us to worship inside

~ in those places

I am an atheist
I don’t believe God
has ever existed

but everywhere else

there is so much
fertile soil

where we can let the sunflowers
of empathy grow wildly in
the spaces between us

and I’ve heard
that if we remain still

and listen so very closely
these evangelizing sunflowers
will whisper to each of us
a secret we once knew while we
were cooking in the cosmic womb:

“We are all loved equally.”

~ john roedel

You are pure Awareness
with very human wounds.
You are indestructible Light,
untouchable and infinite, yes,
but you are also deeply sensitive, fragile,
a human with a tender heart
and unspeakable longings,
and more questions than answers.

Do not abandon yourself for the Absolute, friend,
but do not lose yourself in the relative either.
Just see them as One. God taking shape.
Non-duality dancing as duality,
as the deep mystery of the belly,
the throat, the genitals, the hot blood
and the yearning for home
and the search for union,
and the restlessness and the rest,
and the boredom and the joy of this ordinary life.

All form is sacred here,
since all form is formless here.
The relative is absolute in its holiness here.
Your pain is not an error here but a call to home.
Your sorrow is not a mistake but a movement of divinity.
And even your sense of incompleteness is complete, and your feeling of unworthiness has endless worth.

The old dream of perfection has crumbled.
The old myth of spiritual enlightenment has turned to dust.
The untouchable gurus with all the answers and no human flaws have been swept away.

Certainty has been destroyed by fire.

What is left to trust now
but the belly and the throat, the whistle of the kettle and the pitter-patter of rain hitting the roof, and the laughter of children, and the pressure between the eyes and the loneliness of evening, and the yearning for God and the simplicity of breathing.

The spiritual patriarchy is collapsing under its own weight.
The fear-based notions of how you “should” be.
The sad ideal of bliss and light and only positive vibes.
It has destroyed souls for too long.

A new spirituality is dawning.
One that allows for imperfection.
Healthy shame. Flaws. Not knowing.
Allows us to doubt. To feel sad. To break.
To be groundless yet know our ground.
To be Light yet love our darkness too.
To be Awareness yet maintain our humanity.

A spirituality not of opposites but of inclusion.
A spirituality of the feminine and the masculine working in harmony.
A spirituality of the breath, the dirt, the erotic, the taboo and the inconvenient, the impure and the unfinished and the unknowable.

A spirituality of you, as you are.

– Jeff Foster

by Janice Walters

Legends abound

but I haven’t found

the knowledge for me

in the steps that I see.

They don’t seem to speak

like the Twin Spanish Peaks,

yet I am drawn to them

like a shiny gem.

Rough in places, smooth in others;

compacted together like triplet brothers.

Perhaps with consciousness expanding

they are stair steps to understanding.

As I gaze at each step

there is a visual duet

between rock and sky

each in harmony reply.

“We’re here!”

–comprehension dawns clear.

Looking only at one,

I had come undone.

Together, not apart,

–that’s at the heart

of all understanding

–no misunderstanding.

After comprehending

all Nature’s blending

I breathe out a sigh;

–I finally heard

Rock and Sky.

JW

The East Peak speaks, “There is a light widening into the night

as if a door is slowly opening.“

At first, SHE simply dissolved the energetic lock on the door to

the East Peak feeling safe because the seekers had not the eyes to see.

Those born to see are coming of age and some have waited

until elderly to sense the door shifting,

the breeze of the unseen Source Light Beings

finally showing themselves to The Land.

She knows the shadows will start moving now.

Gazing over the saddle between them,

She speaks her Partner, West Peak awake.

He looks over the Land, his eyes chase

these shadows activated now from their hiding places,

coaxed to run in plain sight, blathering their decaying thoughts,

their fear based beliefs as they try to hold onto

their beloved power and control.

Before leaving Wahatoya behind to travel to

The City of Angels huddled beneath smog and

the idolatry of music moguls, Hollywood Stars and

cheap hotels housing human trafficking victims,

I stood at the corner of Main St. and 7th Street which was once

La Plaza de Los Leones

when She spoke to me,

“You can run but you can’t hide.”

Talking to an acquaintance in a Safeway aisle in Walsenburg, I blurted out, “I’m tired of hiding.” The town went dark. The Peaks went dark. Then, I got in my Subaru and got the heck out of Dodge.

Truth is, I went dark. I fell into my shadowlands. It doesn’t matter where you live. It’s about waking up to the Light within you, that knows no death. We have the courage to conquer our own shadowlands. And this lightens up the World. And the Door is opening, spewing out Source Love to challenge those separated from It. We have a choice. To embrace Source Love, to know we are worthy of it right now no matter our mistakes, or we can give ourselves up to the shadowlands and disappear from ourselves.

“Don’t disappear from yourself” ~A message from the Twin Peaks of Wahatoya~

As you leave Pueblo and head down I-25 towards Colorado City, suddenly a great weight lifts and you can breathe freely. I don’t know why I always feel this as I head home on this expanse of Interstate connecting Denver to Trinidad in the south. I feel a bit of pressure as I careen around the steep incline before hitting the off-ramp to Colorado City. I pass by noticing how green this area is. But so happy to get past it even though grateful for the presence of majestic Greenhorn Mountain, an actually pretty jolly soul even with all the churches trying to claim it. My shoulder blades are opening up now as I stream down the freeway, opening up like wings. I think my Subaru will just start to float upward now just because Wahatoya is looming large in our vision. The closer I get the more relief I feel. This happens every time I come home. I take the Walsenburg offramp through the town down Main Street heading further south past the old Courthouse on the right and the progressive Museum of Friends on the left. I make a right on 7th street at the Carl’s Jr. Oh yeah, the wheels have settled back on the pavement and we are skating towards the edge of town where the 160 Hwy begins and makes its trek between the Spanish Peaks, the Sangre de Cristo Mountains on the South and Silver Mountain, Mt. Maestas on the North. I feel the Cradle start to squeeze me gently in a big HUG as I curve out of town. My cabin is coming up on the right about 3 miles out. It is hidden by Pinion Pine and Juniper trees. Mabel, a tall, proud Pinion stands guard in the front. She is no one to mess with.

I live far away, far away from The Cradle now. I don’t let my roots sink too deep here in the shallow soils of the L.A. Basin. I want to make it easy on myself to pull them back up into me when I suddenly decide to sprint my way back Home. Don’t get me wrong. The land here has flowering trees and waving palms and I do appreciate them and walk in the nature preserves of my city. But…

the air is polluted and the land is packed with desperation, 10 million souls. This is 2022, is the pandemic over? Maybe Covid is on its way out, but a pandemic of homelessness, disease, starvation and war for many is just beginning. Big Sky Country calls out to me for my return. But my family is here. I’m not one to desert family. I wonder, am I still willing to go down with the ship?

If the Ship goes down, her name is Earth. What happens on just one part of Her affects the other parts. Some of the inhabitants of Huerfano County are having dirty water problems. They talk of installing water filtration systems. Lots of fracking has been going on in these parts. Big cities are in your face. Small, rural counties in the Rockies, not so much. Ok, I’ll be on this Ship that goes up. Nothing carbon lasts forever. Scoop me up, Spirit Mother when the time comes.

The Unique Garden,”Be kind always, this was made by Kristina web art”

by Sydney Lynn Lok

Source is 369° awareness,

seeded within our hearts,

streaming through our senses,

leaping out to breathe for the first time, every time,

alive,

imperfect,

feeling,

growing.

We come here to

grow each other.

I kind of know I’m dreaming. I’m on a playground with people that never see me. I’ve tried to get their attention before by smiling and waving but their eyes never blink as if I’m superimposed on their world. The ground is a grey cement, hard with no give. I begin JUMPING. I feel only a mental effort as I sink into my heels. I can even imagine an ache in my calves as my intention thrusts my body up. My lungs don’t ache for breath. That’s a good thing. Pretty soon, the effort I am imagining lessens.

At first my thoughts heave as I strive to break the gravity barrier I am imagining. But as the JUMP pushes me up towards a ceiling it gets easier. I start to float up and hold there for long strings of seconds, before breathless thoughts catapult me down. This air I breathe in up here lightens my thoughts. Each time I JUMP my thoughts can hold weightlessness a little longer floating my body up to just below the ceiling. I begin gulping some new blend of air like a fish at the top of a fish tank. I begin to see waves of color on the other side of the transparent glass. Breathing up here colors everything! I motion for the crowd to acknowledge my feat but again I am anonymous to their world. I wish so much they could join me in the JUMP. Maybe next time?

I really like this dream. Most of my dreams are not in color.

This dream breathes me into a state of being where I can color Heaven.