Woman Red Rock Mountain

My personal facebook page draws in wonderful posts from various groups and friends. Today, a Native American healing group invited all to prayers, beginning with the words “Red Rocks.” A comment by one respondent reminded me of my own experiences in Sedona, Arizona. As you come up the highway from Phoenix (a two-hour ride), there is a large, winding curve… and there they are, ah! Breath leaves you as you try to comprehend the beauty stretching around and beyond the curve, watching as each movement of sunlight transforms the sedimentary striations of color beyond dreaming – the glitter of goldstone, reds, pinks, oranges… all so very luminous.  

The poem below came to me after my travels, at a time when I must have dreamt or had a vision of the red rock mountains laying across the land, taking the shape of a woman laying on her side. I’ve never been back to Sedona, but she lives in my dreams, in my heart, forever… 

 

Woman Red Rock Mountain

 

I hear you call to me
beloved in me
my woman red rock mountain.

This poem cannot do justice
to the world I feel within you
to the woman that you are in me 
woman red rock mountain
my beloved mountain my love

I hear you call to me
I taste your tears in my tears
I dance the memories of our unity
when you wrapped your striations around me,
your red rock surrounding

my heart, my soul, my longing,
all my womanly ways…
and I’ve not been the same ever since.

You opened your spirit to me,
invited me into your shadows. I laid across
your mountain soul and listened
as you sang, wordless
caresses comforting me in the fires

of the ancient ones, black streaks flowing
from the smoke of your desires
down to the sedimentary lovers below. 

I hear you calling me. I hear you moan and wail
for me, your tears streaming down my face
your gentle body slowly moving against
the blackless sky, stars so bright they haunt you
while you dance your love to me.

 I hear you. I see you. 
I am coming home to you, to your shadows and desire,
to your wordless caress,
to woman red rock mountain,
beloved in me.  

I am coming home to you and it matters not
for wood and walls, for words
written for the masses.
I am coming home,
to spend my days reveling in your colors

that dance below the blackless sky 
as the sun turns from east to west, a changing mosiac
for my delight, every hour of the day.

To embrace one mote of
your desire is to breathe life itself; I have
no need of purpose. I am

liberated in your repose, enamored in your delight;
I am ecstatic in your unfoldment
as I unfold in you.

I am coming home to you and it matters not
for wood and walls, for words
written for the masses. Breathing as one with you,
my poetry echoes the wisdom of the ancients
that rises through your vibration.

I will write new songs in the soot of your fires.
I will shout from your soul, I will sing from your shadows;
praise for the gifts you gave to me
long ago in the bridal cave,
my veil of stars cascading from the sky. 

I am in the heart of a mountain,
woman red rock mountain,
and I hear you calling me,  
your red rock desire surrounding  
my heart, my soul, my longing, all my womanly ways

wrapped in your striations, your wordless caress,
my woman red rock mountain
beloved in me. 

 

 

Lady Diane Randall  
(C) 2013 

 

 

 

 

 

Viva La Muerte – The Poet Returns!

This poem is inspired by the movie, “The Matador’s Mistress.”

Viva La Muerte

Will you love me today
Tomorrow 
Forever? Will you love me
More than life?
I see the shadows in your eyes when we make love
I feel the darkness of death so close to your breath
And I wonder, who will I be when
You are you no more? 
Will I be your mistress 
When you are more than wine and bread
More than the blood-stained sword of death?

When you look up from our bed
What do you see? It is not a ceiling
Or a sky; not a heaven bound with angels
It is the darkness, La Grande Muerte,
Filled with the craving of the gods 
For you
Their stars live for you my beloved
They wait for you, for the tears in your eyes
To take you to the place where all is night
Where all is peace
And your dream of release arrives…

When I eat of your bread
And drink of your wine – Will you 
Love me more than that? 

 

 

(c) Lady Diane Randall 2011-2013

Energy Gifts are of Earth Forever

Dearest Brenda,

Thank you for a beautiful post. Since my experience of ms “shifted” into a major placement in my life, my whole attitude as a lightworker/spiritual healer has had to change. This year, I feel the shift gaining momentum, and my unconscious patterns are rapidly coming to awareness for healing. I have the help of a wonderful therapist, and reading posts like yours reminds me I am one with All, and I am loved. One thing is clear: the ms has brought me to where I truly need to be: more aware of the need for healing my inner self.

So, that is the Lion’s Gate for me – like the Strength card in tarot, I am walking with the Lion who knows not of denial, fear, or shadows. I feel humbled by what I’ve been learning about myself, but, since ms itself is a humbling event, that is why I am Here, Now. I cannot live the way I used to live – a life of self-sabotage, interspersed with moments of great clarity and awareness of Love – all the while hiding the unexpressed parts of me from even myself.

With my spiritual therapist’s help, I continue to recognize – and thereby release – denial and control. I read, meditate, and write – and sometimes even dance a little! – but I do so at my own pace: one moment, one breath at a time. Thank you and blessed be!

With my spiritual therapist’s help, I continue to recognize – and thereby release – denial and control. I read, meditate, and write – and sometimes even dance a little! – but I do so at my own pace: one moment, one breath at a time.

Thank you and blessed be!

(C) 2013 Lady Diane Randall

Welcome to Brenda's Blog

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Channeled by Brenda Hoffman for http://www.LifeTapestryCreations.com

Summary of Brenda’s July 27, 2013 free, 15-minute, channeled “Creation Energies” show at http://www.BlogTalkRadio.com/brenda-hoffman: Thenext few days will be a self-directed, emotional global shift. Even though many will not understand their internal need to think and act in love and joy, they will experience a shift to love and joy that will be similar to their need to eat and sleep. Adults aren’t told when to eat and sleep – they just know.

The title of last week’s “Brenda’s Blog” – her free, weekly, channeled blog for  http://www.LifeTapestryCreations.com: “Letting Go of Your Final 3D Safety Net”

Brenda’s “Creation Energies” BlogTalkRadio.com show and “Brenda’s Blog” contain different channeled materials.

Dear Ones,

Thousands of words have been written and spoken about the miracle of the next few days’ “Lion’s Gate” energy burst. Many relay that you will manifest all you wish. That…

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Poem as Postscript to “What is Creativity?”

You may have read today’s earlier post, including a copy of my response to the above question posed by Talent Flush. I then felt the urge to post at least one poem that expresses my feelings about writing. This poem, Poetry, My Love, was originally published in 2005, in my book entitled, She of the Dreaming Sky, by Pearl’s Book ’em Publisher. However, two events caused the flame of this work to die down to a slow ember: One, the publisher was, at the time, changing direction in her efforts as both artist and inspiration. To whit: We sold about 35 copies, mostly to my mother and sister, plus a few friends. But whew, when I received that contract, oh… I cried. The fourteen-year-old inside me cried; a real publishing contract! At any rate, the other was the onset of my life-changing ms experience, which had been increasing its outward presence in me more and more by the time of publication. A few years later, my publisher graciously released me from the contract and returned all rights to me.

Therefore, I am pleased to present one poem that came from the inner depths of my ever-abiding love for poetry; in particular, the mystical experience of writing poetry:

POETRY, MY LOVE

She is Poetry
She is Truth
She is Love

Who else but Poetry leaves me
yearning at the page like a newly-kissed lover,
offering up my passionate pen
in return for her caress
behind my eyes
behind my lips
along my arms, my hands, my fingertips,
inside my heart?

Who else but Poetry entices me with the
language of ecstasy?
Who leads me into the liquid night of mystery?

She is Poetry
She is Truth
She is Love

She offers me a sky full of words
spilling out of a crystalline bowl,
drowning me in divine simplicity
until I become just a speck of light myself,
floating in the vastness of her womb,
waiting to be born.

Lady Diane Randall
(C) 2013

From She of the Dreaming Sky, by Diane C. Randall
Originally published in 2005
by Pearl’s Book ’em Publisher

ISBN: 0-9740520-9-4
Library of Congress: 2005907841
All rights remanded to the author, 2008

The Great Gatsby: The Many Ways Spirit Speaks to Me

Dear Friends, Bloggers, Dreamers all…

I am having the most intriguing series of synchronicities – and I love it! I love it when Spirit finds a door that’s wide open in me and pours through me in wave after wave of imagery, messages from disparate places & people, dreams, etc… all to reveal what’s really going on deep within me and perhaps, with others in my life. I have so much to say, I hardly know where to begin. It’s that way with Spirit revelations…whoo! Because I want so much to heal my inner self, and I’m open, open to all that is Good, all that is Real, so that I can be available not only to myself but to those I love, and even, perhaps, to thinking of a future that, unlike Gatsby’s, does not end in Death, but in Rebirth; a new me, and yet the Real Diane. I’m thinking now how interesting my gladness in keeping the nom de plume “Lady Diane.” Nobility in humility, or vice versa, or…?

TWO NIGHTS AGO: Watched The Great Gatsby, 1974. I hate sad endings!

YESTERDAY: Received notice of a post by Cristian Mihai about the version of the film, The Great Gatsby. Cristian Mihai states that he has read the novel by F. Scott Fitzgerald every year since he was 13 I believe … he is only 20 years old, brilliant and entertaining:

YESTERDAY: My Post to Cristian Mihai about The Great Gatsby
(Spoiler Alert! Includes Dramatic Spiritual References to Me!):

I don’t believe in coincidences… everything is connected. So I’m VERY interested to find out why I just watched, for the first time, the older version of The Great Gatsby with Robert Redford – last night! And here just now, after coming down from a depressive outburst of tears and confusion – I went outdoors and spoke to the trees and cried, cried, cried… then I decided I would do other things (spiritually speaking) to understand…this wave of emotions…but FIRST – I decided to check my email to see if anything new came up that would speak to me. And here I find your post, Cristian…about the new (film)… with the absolutely amazing Leonardo DiCaprio. SO, I don’t know what it means but I am over my own tears and will contemplate – and probably post something – about this connection…

LAST NIGHT:
(Soul-Digging Continues As I Lash Myself to the Stake of Healing Fire!)

After my comment to Mr. Mihai, I meditated, then watched another classic movie, “Beware of Pity,” because the title seemed worth researching, given my situation. Another tale of the paradox of privilege, of self-centeredness versus our true nature of compassion, of the dangers of naivete’ leading to betrayal, and alas, too late – death rather than rebirth, regret rather than redemption. 

DREAM ALERT! My Subconscious Invites Itself to the Bonfire!

Last night, I dreamt of my secret love… Robert Redford. Actually, I dreamt of a man I’d worked for many years ago, who had recognized my talents (for writing, especially!) and promoted me to his department. His name is Ron Gable and he looked very much like the Robert Redford of my time and, like Robert, is a good man, a trustworthy man. I dreamt that I was trying to get closer to him and pointed to the television that was playing The Great Gatsby of 1974, and said to him, “You know, when we worked together, you reminded me of him, and you still do.”

GATSBY SPEAKS TO ME! Directly from the “Real” Land of WordPress!

This morning, hung over from my own melodrama, contemplating the dream… I opened my email and there was a “Like” from a blogger known as “Gatsby Luxury.” His site is resplendent with glorious photographs from the new version of the movie. I reposted my note to Cristian Mihai and added:

Well, thank you again, Gatsby… I may not live the lifestyle but I have a great deal of thought on the character of Jay, of Robert Redford, and I definitely want to see the new movie because Leonardo takes a character and makes it come completely alive and real. And maybe that’s the conundrum, here, because I don’t know that Gatsby ever felt completely alive and real, except when he was in his hopeless romantic fantasy world, hoping against hope that Daisy would leave Tom… and save him.

THE CATALYST FOR MY DRAMA: Contained Within a Most Inconspicuous & Non-Fiction Post THAT GATSBY “LIKED!”

The post “Gatsby” liked, written just before this series of events came about,  was my desperate plea about my dog, Sadie, who has become too much burden for me to bear. And my tear-full healing last night, was dramatic; I hugged the trees outside and could not stop! I looked to the skies, looking through the branches of trees as they answered me not. The catalyst for this drama? My dog Sadie, my daughter Rebecca (who is Sadie’s Real Mommy), and the burdens I bear as a MS patient, living in a community that is half-helpful, half-stressful; half-normal and half-crazy.

AND NOW:

THE DRAMATIC REVEAL (Drum Roll, Please!):

And could it be that I am, at this moment, embodying – or begging for release from – the “Gatsby” story that is mine? Here it is: Perhaps I don’t know if I have “ever felt completely alive and real, except when (I) was in (my) hopeless romantic fantasy world, hoping against hope that (Robert Redford, Ron… or anyone close to that ideal)… would save (me).”

THE FLAMES OF HELL LICKING MY HEELS:
If You’ve Read This Far, Gather Up Your Angels – You’r’e Gonna Need Them!

The path to healing everything hidden within is not easy, my friends. It takes courage to release our false hopes, to dig deeply into our souls, to release our fear and self-pity. It takes great courage to speak the truth as we know it once we realize we must speak it, if we are to Live. It is, however, the way – the ONLY way – out of hell and into the Ultimate Reality known as Heaven on Earth. This is true in any religion; the language and verbiage may be different, but all practices and prayers lead to the same perfect place.

Thank you and blessings to all!

Lady Diane Randall

Stars Making Love

Hello, Lady Diane here! A new poem fresh off the keyboard… another one with a disclaimer. (Should I really do that? Isn’t that like “explaining myself,” which I am SO done with?) I’ll keep it short (promise!): the words come out, I must have felt that way sometime, so I’m keeping it “as is”, not trying to fix every poem. I do know that men are experiencing spiritual evolution/realization just as much as women are. Okay, MAYBE I’ll change it someday. But it’s got alliteration, you gotta love that… Anyway, hope you like it! Blessed Be…

Stars Making Love

I’ve made many a man cry before.

imagine a sky so vast you can see the curve
of the earth

her heart melting
her love making

continents move and break and heal

I move I melt
I love I heal

I’ve made many a man cry before

imagine stars
making love

men would cry to get a glimpse of that

but they still wouldn’t
get it.

Lady Diane Randall