And She Gave Herself Away

This wonderful poem is submitted by Peggy Blake, whom I had the pleasure to meet and share dreams with at Robert Moss's Active Dreaming workshop in Mystic, Ct last month. I am honored that she felt inspired to put pen to paper and craft her very own poem as a result of one I wrote and shared at that workshop, "And She Gives." And I'm thrilled that she has offered to join me on the Dreaming Poetry blog, giving voice to her own life experience and dreaming poetry.... Here is her touching poem:

And She Gave Herself Away

Reflections fill her as she recalls,
The life she gave to her fatherless kids.
She saw her own dreams turn to vapor,
Quick as a hail storm on hot metal grids.

Left with no home and hardly a dime,
With five hungry boys, like crows on a fence.
Telling herself her purpose in life,
Was to put them first, at any expense.

Spending her honor roll potential,
She showed them big smiles while she hid her sobs.
She wiped their noses and packed each lunch,
While she rushed to work, most often two jobs.

No time to feed her very own needs,
Facing bills piled high that threatened more loss.
Laundry seemed like an army in mud,
While mountains of meatballs simmered in sauce.

Boys turned to men, while Love was her fuel,
She felt it worthwhile, her mission complete.
Her aging bones are warm to the core,
Tasting this victory is ever so sweet.

She knows that she gave herself away,
She's without a stage and can't take a bow.
Though funds are spent, her heart overflows.
She's giving herself to grandchildren now.

~Peggy Blake, 12/15/08

Once Upon the Middle of the Night

Once upon the middle of the night
A dreamer's mystical dream takes flight

She happily journeys through space and times
To a magical schoolhouse where life rhymes

A kind dream wizard leads enLightning games
Robert Moss, the mortal name he claims

Children become warrior, goddess and bear
Spellbound, they enter a multiverse shared

In color, they draw, play-act, and dream
Experiencing all cultures, one unified team

In light of day, she wrote it all down,
Thrilled the scene was her own hometown

She shared with dreampals, near and far
When Robert read it, he gave it a star

"The story flows true," is what he said
"Except where there's 'Robert,' try 'Robin' instead"

The dreamer awoke - to the power of dreams
Knowing her vision might be as it seems

Honoring a map that's way off the chart
She plots a course straight from the heart

A dreamer is dreaming inside everyone
The truths they tell us yet barely begun.

~Robin O'Neal, 10/08

Learn more about Robert Moss, his books and courses at www.mossdreams.com.
* Join the online dream forum, sponsored by Spirituality & Health magazine.
*Be the first to register for the Cincinnati workshop, "The Healing Power of Story," and get Robert Moss' recently released hardcover book, The Secret History of Dreaming, FREE.

To register, email roknrobinwrites@mac.com or call me, Robin, at 513-659-3356.
More info can be found here.

Becoming - a dramatic reading

this is more like "praying poetry"...
A dramatic reading written for youth at Wellspring Community Church Youth Retreat


Find me, God
Find me here where I am, where I am now
Find my body and my burdens,
my will and my way

Show me, God
Show me who I am, who I am not,
what I am, what I am not

Show me God,
Show me who You are, all You are
Show me who I am in You, who You are in me

All of You, all of me,
All of me in You, all of me in You.
Crucify me, God
Fill me with Your light, Your truth

Send angels,
Open heaven,
Touch me with your voice,
Transform me with your word -
Transform me from the inside out,
the outside in,
over and over and over again

Send angels,
Open heaven,
Touch me with your voice,
Transform me with your word
From the inside out,
the outside in,
over and over,
over and over,
over and over and over again

Lord Jesus, receive my spirit
and fill me with Yours
Receive my spirit,
Fill me with Yours

How do I tell them, God?
Help others to see?
How do I show them, God?
Help them to hear?

You are everything… everyone… everywhere
Every tree, every bird,
every rich, every poor,
every seen, every unseen,
every baby, every child,
every woman, every man,
every rock, every field,
every ocean, every sky,
every death, every life

Your death gives us life.
Your death gives us life.
Your death gives. us. life.

My life is in You,
hiding in You

Appear in me
so they can see
Appear in me
with glory!

Take off this old self, put on new
Take off this old self, put on new

Take off lies and anger
Take off anger and rage
Take off rage and malice
Take the filthy words from my lips

And clothe me
Clothe me with compassion and kindness
Clothe me with kindness and humility
Clothe me with humility and gentleness
Clothe me with gentleness and patience

Cover me in love, love, LOVE
Bind me in chains of love
Love not about me and all about You
Your unbreakable chain of love
that connects us all

Bind me in chains of love
Your chain of love
that connects us all

Free me in your chain
Free me in your Love
Free. me. in. You.

~Robin O’Neal, 12/3/08

Floating Through Poetry Dream Skies

A pantoum for Meo

We float through poetry, where words twinkle just like stars
And craft infinite verse of connections, here in dreamer space
Meo has been waiting, heart presence never far
Glowing warm and radiant, in compassionate embrace

We craft infinite verse of connections, here in dreamer space
Love of those departed remains right here, Ours
Glowing warm and radiant, in compassionate embrace
Stories, recipes, traditions ache to be memoirs

The love of those departed remains right here, Ours
Meo’s lavendar soap scent and handkerchiefs of lace
Stories, recipes, traditions ache to be memoirs
Cookbooks of truth-telling could be our saving grace

Meo’s lavendar soap scent and handkerchiefs of lace
Juicy vegetable gardens, endlessly full cookie jars
Cookbooks of truth-telling cold be our saving grace
Tastes of four generations create our reservoir

Juicy vegetable garden, endlessly full cookie jar
Oval framed, faded photo of her kind and gentle face
Tastes of four generations create our reservoir
Dreamers sky-time legacies never more erased

Oval framed, faded photo of her kind and gentle face
Meo has been waiting, heart presence never far
Dreamer’s sky-time legacies never more erased
We float through poetry, where words twinkle just like stars.

And She Gives

And she gives herSelf away
Learning how to walk with broken limbs
Forgetting once she had wings to fly,
Now gathering dust in the rickety crib
her parents sold for $5 at a garage sale

And she gives herSelf away
Believing hard-won toe shoes,
lipstick stage smiles
and all those laps at the YMCA
might redeem and prove her true

And she gives herSelf away
Feigning illness and injury,
convincing them, who in turn convince her
what she needs most is
Rest, crutches, noodle soup

And she gives herSelf away
Choosing rebellious flirtation and 3 am
window exits, dark secret lies and loss
Pretending his starry blue, night-eyed passions
are her own.

And then….she remembers to dream
And then….she dreams to remember…

Her wings fly home
and as she exhales years of dingy dust
Dream glitter splatters and splays,
lighting and sparkling
upon her shoulders

Toe shoes she trades for New Balance,
laps at the Y for jogs on her God Path,
where she meets deer angels
and Spirit of the Waterfall,
where she prays and connects with Truth

Her body breathes and pulses wellness
Radiant soul bits aligning
Healing and creating energy flow,
craving most
belly laughs, mystic adventures, lobster sliders

She chooses Fairy Tale Erotica,
spoiling and growing old with her man,
Chasing her own passions defined
through DreamTube classrooms
of natural light

And she gives, and she gives,
and she gives Herself away…

~Robin, 11/23/08
Dragon's Egg, Mystic, Ct

For my Muse

I am sorry, Muse
I know you're there
Your brilliant light is here somewhere

Fill me up
Cheer me on
Come to me in
words and song

Whisper, scream - I don't care
Just help me trust the power flare

this voice... the flash... the flow... the pulse

Heal me, hold me
Break me, mold me

Bid me practice, forget perfection
Nudge my memory dream direction

Dance, my Muse
and smell the bread
In you, through you, I am fed.

~Robin, 10/27/08

Goddess on the Shore

"Goddess on the Shore"

There is in my mind a woman
Luminescent
Walking the sunset beach
Cheek glow shadows cast upon her breast
Watching pink sky horizon
Greet mirror water
On the edge of daynight
Sand squishing as waves recede
Feet sinking
Connecting with her earth
Tall, alone
Effortless grace
One centered soul
Expansive
Enough
Ready

~Robin, 10/03

You Were There

"You Were There"

You were there last night, my silly artist dream pal
Painting my wall bold and breathtaking
Gossiping 'bout real estate and how to raise a girl

You were there last night, yes you,
Though I finished with you finally,
Gratefully surrendering after such belabored strife

Still, there you were
Unexpected, yet welcome
Approving in gesture and tone,
Minus the trollish undertow,
A virtual signature of your features, pure, complex-free

My raw ache faded further
in your wink and chuckle,
that cool costello flare lingered easily throughout today.

You were there last night, my friend
Effortlessly floating across my unconscious
Easing old grievance
as we gazed upon sparkling skylights
revealing only clear blue sky
with scattered cumulus clouds of hope

~Robin, 2004

Lunar Welcome

Bzzzzz…. sacral chakra vibration, tingling
tjurni journey

Mesmerizing midnight mirage
dabbed with indigo
magenta smears
citrus highlights
glitter sparkle swirls

cool warm space

Gently gliding up and toward
up and toward

“I am here,” I hear
“I am here,” I feel
“I am here,” I know

Here, in sacred falcon feathers, proud. speckled. brown.
Here in grandpa’s pocket watch. golden. chain.dangling.

There beyond opaque mist,
waiting
no hurry, no time
only here, now
patient. everpresent.

Gently gliding up and toward
up and toward

Lunar being of light
embraces me with kind compassion
pure love streaming
in, from , through
all space, all time, all dimensions,
all. of. me.

Welcome, dreamer…. welcome home.

~6/08