Feet of Clay
While her dance on earth bid her stay,
she came to love her feet of clay.
Though they crumbled and caved
in life’s tidal wave
she learned to reshape them
and fire them
with the glowing
golden embers within her heart,
the place that remembered where she got her start
on wings of angels delivered to birth,
royalty not subject
to the mirth
of fault-finders with cast iron feet bound to the earth,
impenetrable and too deep
to leap for the stars
and catch fireflies in jars
on hot summer nights
when naked feet
in the dance that bid her stay
while she came to love her feet of clay.
Bernadette Rose Smith
Feet of clay is an expression we use that points to character flaws found in our humanness. You know. Those times when we are so good we must be found bad. Or so bad we are good enough to raise the eyebrows of those mirthful faultfinders around us. (Inner critics included.)
Lets face it. Whether a Hollywood starlet caught in a nose-picking event by paparazzi or the King of Babylon exposed in a dream by prophet Daniel or somewhere in between like the rest of us, having feet of clay ranks low on the bucket list of “I wants” or things to be celebrated.
We try to rise above them with store bought miracle grow wings that promise to elevate our consciousness. Or we hop on brooms with “swoop and sweep” features that offer to deflect Read more
Writing Under Fire
Writing under fire saves lives
when desperation overflows pretty journals
and sends pen in hand drawer-diving for a comp book
or some lone sheet of loose-leaf paper.
Even toilet paper writes well at midnight with its multi-tasking talent for
anger venting, tear catching, nose blowing, remorse flushing purges.
Dear God letters. Fill-in-the-blank-you-asshole letters.
Therapy work. Gasping for breath and rhythm work.
Dream logs. Synchronicity logs. Gratitude logs.
Spirit dialogs. Ego dialogs.
Alternate routes through heart and mind traffic jams.
When angst hits the wall grab a pen.
Hit the page. Save a life.
Make it yours.
Bernadette Rose Smith
Wish to amp up your life with creativity and delight in Divine Coincidence? Here’s 3 things to try. (Hey, they work for me!)
Thing 1: Morning Pages.
In the fall of ’93, my then-husband-now-friend gave me a copy of The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron. Struggling with a loss of career direction, artist’s block and mild depression I couldn’t shake, I committed to reading the book and writing the morning pages that Julia prescribed.
Some might call it irony. I call it synchronicity – amplified by a Divine Purpose. Then-husband-now-friend gifted me with a book that introduced me to a process of writing my way through pretty much anything. Then he left and gifted me with an opportunity to practice that process in a way that I never could have imagined!
What are morning pages? In Julia’s words, Read more
Ever play “kick the can” when you were a kid? You’d happen on an abandoned can and before you knew it you were three blocks past your house. Maybe you’d even get lucky and meet a friend or two on your journey.
One could travel around the world with a couple of friends and a can. And that is what we are doing here. Kicking the virtual can! To follow the can, I have to take you to the time BEFORE the can appeared. It started with a post on ephemera. My Life As Ephemera, actually. The game began with a contribution from Sharron. A mandala that she created from my ephemera shot. And a poem.
I thought, “How delightful! I must share this right away.” But a little voice (you know the one) said, “Wait. There’s more.” So I waited. That’s when the can appeared. Well, really, it was a comment made by Juliette on my second ephemera post, Shoe Boxes & Found Objects, with a link to HER blog where “Voila!” the can appeared.
So, I kicked it. And she kicked it back. Then we sent out a call to see if anyone else wanted to play. (That’s when I discovered The Messy Room has a back room … heheheh … one that I dare not post!)
So, here is the first kick from Sharron Cee in South Carolina:
A Mandala: Created from the shot I used in my post, My Life as Ephemera. Read more