WILD BASKET OF HER HEART

99826EAB-4FD9-481F-BB78-DFCB05D65C96She weaves a basket with healer’s hands
With ribbons from the swamp so green

She’s going to find that Sweet Spot and
Become the Wild Weaver Queen

Strong enough and plenty bold
All the things that need to hold

But flexible too in beauty bending
Around the shape of things and mending

Past and present sacred wounding
Scissors for what needs the pruning

The matter of the Moisture Spell:
Too wet and the ribbons swell

Worse yet it grows a mold
But too dry and it breaks, won’t hold

Gaps emerge when dry and shrinks
Things leaking from weakest links

There’s the matter of the Weaving Art:
Too many directions and it all falls apart

The old patterns won’t do, the heart
Needs a new design, so starts

A patience, a fall, a flip and flow
A trimming and a letting go

When present with what is there
The perfect size and shape appears

Unfolding freely in her lap
Ribbons lacing without a gap

The sweet spot sweetly spelled
And all the right things sweetly held
In the wild basket of her heart so well

-Ryan Van Lenning

 

TRANSWOVEN

21AE61A2-B62E-4751-85D0-209957B8B575A single charge—
from fabric too bright to grasp
weave your riven and ribboned robe
from the seasons
of your dusk to dusk
and your dawn to dawn.

The shocks of the age have you stunned,
it is known.

They’ve pulled at your threads
and frayed your gown,
and a dark deed or two sewn
in your sleeve can be seen—
all just proving you were here.

But by Trust’s holy vow,
be your own tailor
and wear your true cloak.

No one can stitch into the cloth of time
that original star
like you.

No one.

Wild Basket of Her Heart

88031411-0A28-4426-AE61-B77BB844FA51She weaves a basket with healer’s hands
With ribbons from the swamp so green

She’s going to find that Sweet Spot and
Become the Wild Weaver Queen

Strong enough and plenty bold
All the things that need to hold

But flexible too in beauty bending
Around the shape of things and mending

Past and present sacred wounding
Scissors for what needs the Pruning

The matter of the Moisture Spell:
Too wet and the ribbons swell

Worse yet it grows a mold
But too dry it breaks, won’t hold

Gaps emerge when dry and shrinks
Things leaking from weakest links

There’s the matter of the Weaving Art:
Too many directions and it all falls apart

The old patterns won’t do, the heart
Needs a new design, so starts

A patience, and a fall and flow
A trimming and a letting go

When present with what is there
The perfect size and shape appears

Unfolding freely in her lap
Ribbons lacing without a gap

The sweet spot sweetly spelled
And all the right things sweetly held
In the wild basket of her heart so well

Weave Your Outrageous Image

weave
Start with your own question,
give up on other people’s questions,
don’t let them smother something
simple. – David Whyte, Start Close In
___________________________________________

You see, they must put things
in between you and your thread

How else can they recruit you
to sew up their dream?

Without the mounds of dirt
thrown over your warp and woof

how could you become the face
of forgetfulness
and follow someone else’s thread?

Jog your memory:
there can be nothing
in between
that you do not allow

Your one holy precept:
Do not abandon thy luminous thread

Get clear of the dirt
and take the thread in your hand

They will see your wondrous thing
and will understand

or not.

They may cast twisted eyes
laughing
or empty blinking silence
upon your vast design

or even banish you

but only from the houses
to which you don’t belong.

It matters not

because some — by seeing
your intricate threading —
will begin to forget
their own forgetting

and you, my friend,
can weave again
your outrageous image into the world