Mermaid Verse

music flows from lips and as words meet sound bound and found me, your eyes wide open, soul sprightly greeting thee….


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“The Artist Said” by Megan Seaman

 

Lord Ganesha, remover of all obstacles, bestower of Wisdom

Lord Ganesha, remover of all obstacles, bestower of Wisdom

What’s green and sawtoothed, with woody musk?

“Why, it’s the evergreen mammoth” the explorer said, “with his two ton tusks.”

 

What’s curved and scaled, with fiery sound?

“Why, it’s the darkened treble” the musician said, “of the clef that abounds.”

 

What’s stony and grey, with an elephant’s head?

“Why, it’s the deity of wisdom” the Brahman said, “atop a mouse, instead.”

 

What’s changing and swirling, with fearsome winds?

“Why, it’s the modified mind-stuff” the Yogini said, “fighting to get in.”

 

What’s full of coincidence, imagination and, dreams?

“Why, it’s the three only things” the artist said, “that thread the seams…

…of the creative spirit and connects us all

and into the soundless nothingness we all will fall.”

 

And the artist said with glazed over gaze, but canny contemplation,

“the canvas I paint today is my own sublimation

of the enemy ego that darkens my heart

and clouds the love that brightens the stark

and cold tundras of this armor I wear

that was built to protect the vulnerability I fear.”

 

And then the artist said, with a sigh and a step,

“I’m setting free this corroded metal for the self and the breath.

No more clinging

No more stinging

No more sea salty things

Just the light in the sky and the winds that it brings.

 

And I’ll say just one more thing and then I will go

Paint your pictures in the present, for (the past is gone and) tomorrow never knows.”


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My Heart is Set on You (or Never Ever Fall in Love with a Rockstar) by Megan Seaman

Heart on fire

Heart on fire

My heart is set on you

My heart is set on you

Though you do not care that I exist

Though I send you lollipops like you wish

Though my fragile tissue may gushingly bleed

Though you think you have all you need

Though she sings the songs you passionately sing

Though you’ve given her that diamond ring

Though what I say might sound disturbing

Though I’ll take a hundred years discerning

Though the truth is yet disappointingly unknown

Though you won’t call me on your telephone

Though we live miles and miles apart

Though the distance is long to make a start

Though it rains cold drops on Monday morning

Though it persists through evening violently storming

Though when the sun comes it is wondrously warm

Though the light reveals the drapes now torn

Though what I might say doesn’t mean a thing

Though you care not for gifts I bring

Though I will never feel the touch of your hand

Though we will never go the places I plan

Though the Universe is wide and wild and expanding

Though I’ll see you on that street corner standing

Though our eyes will meet in some seraphic way

Though at a moments pause you will turn and look away

My heart is set on you

My heart is set on you

My poor old lonely heart is set on you.


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It hurts so good (8-2-14 to 8-3-14) – by Megan Seaman

Something golden below the surface

Something golden below the surface

It hurts so good.

You run the sharp nail over the raw and tender surface and it hurts so good. It is the feeling of nothing; a faint scream, or some noise six billion years away. But you hear it anyway. It is the trickle of water from some cracked pipe, in some wall, on some floor, in some building, in some city, in some country, on some continent, and it leaks and flows in the darkness. But you hear it anyway. It is the glimmer, shining, thirty-six thousand feet below the sea, where Spanish dancing cucumbers can’t even survive. But you see it anyway. It is the honeyed smell of spring, some one hundred and seventy-nine days after the first leaf falls on autumn’s ground. But you smell it anyway. It is the flavor of the pomegranate in the dark red depths of the wine that grew from the grapes nourished by the land, which flourished an orchard of Persephone’s fruits nine thousand years ago. But you taste it anyway. It is the aching feeling under three (thousand) layers of skin, wanting to be exposed and touched, wanting to be acknowledge for the sensation it brings. But you feel it anyway. And though it is tender and raw under the piercing metal,

It hurts so good.


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Eagle and the King (4-18-14) by Megan Seaman

Flight

Flight

“You surprised me with your flight

At once brave

At once unforeseen

Each occasion you swooped down

To take what was yours

And deliver your sovereign message

“By sunlight, moonbeam, and star gleam

you shall see your destiny has already been seen,

will peak, and achieve in fortune’s amity.”


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BALD EAGLE TOTEM

meganseaman:

Tonight, on my way home from Yoga Happy Hour at Inner Bliss Yoga Studio I saw a Bald Eagle flying like 25-30 feet above my car. It came out of nowhere. I had my moon roof open and it was so close that I could identify it.

It was one of the coolest moments…it followed along in the same path I was going, and then began to fly south up higher into the distance. At first, I thought “wow, that is a big bird. too big to be a red tailed hawk and different coloring.” I could see it’s underbelly only at first, and the as it started to turn south, I could see its beautiful “bald” head. Wow. But apparently they’re seafaring birds…I guess Lake Erie is kind of like a sea… neato

Originally posted on AngelicShamanMinistry:

ANGELIC SHAMAN TOTEMS

There exists a wealth of in depth richly explored sites, book references available to us all regarding totem animals and spirits ~ many of which we both have learned so much from along with our own personal life experiences ~ Instead of repeating much of the same information we decided to add onto what is already known about certain totems that we have personally experienced.

Aurora feels compelled to start with her very first Totem Animal that flew to her mother when Aurora was almost one ~ That majestic creature was a yearling Bald Eagle ~

Bald Eagle 

The Bald Eagle is a Sea Eagle and also the symbol for the United States of America. It isn’t actually Bald but named that for having a white head of feathers.

In Native American Cultures the Eagle is Sacred as a Spiritual Messenger one that delivers peace, fertility, honor…

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Little Red Heads by Megan Seaman

“Thick ice to see through only gives

Cool blue sheen

To frigid white blankets – chill

To the touch.

 

Beliefs that it was always that way

From birth, and as the small child grew

The blue sheen grew too

And darkened what was there.

 

Slow short steps still moved forward

Even through shaded hues

The claws of some unknown being

Reached out into the blue blindness.

 

Moonlight or some heavenly glow

Shined from a far off insight

And touched the edges of

The tangling thorns.

 

In the glimmer could be seen

Little red heads silky

To the touch

Tight in their winter sleep.

 

What could those heads be thinking –

Dreaming about” – Megan M. Seaman


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Poem #98 (10-28-13) by Megan Seaman

“Dark waves seen only by the

Outline

Made from gold crests

That tipped with the ebb

After the flow.

 

Drifting for a century on

Water

Now calm and monotonous

Sometimes sea sickness

Set in the belly.

 

Dangerous to forget the

Possibility

Of land or ships or mermaids

Taking for granted the endless

Nature of swelling sea.

 

Decision to open eyes;

Heart

And hands. To begin to move

With any thought; a sign

To grab on to, hope.

 

Death is not harrowing to

Me

I believe it comes when

The soul has reached its greatest extent

And is ready to remove its veil.” – Megan Marie Seaman

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