Learning to duck when the S#$t hits the fan

Photo by Christopher Sardegna on Unsplash

Not without saying life has charged itself, one hundred million volts of bat-shit crazy. Elsinore brewing company releasing teams, dark thematic music in the foreground. Holding space, self-inflicted, collective whole just the same.

Puck dropped, rage against the machine. Real-life super drama, falling from big-screen. Popcorn not included, Jose Cuervo more likely. Singular reality, triple fingers and maybe a double if called. This is our go to among the collective.

Quiet return, shaman’s call cavernous thought. Dragon’s breath, cleansing song. Preparatory sacred space, holding one’s own. To the seven, ancestral chains of love. Calling in gratitude, up in smoke the day.

Cycle begins, day-breath natural kiss. Morning coffee, sharing a chorus. Beginning in gratitude, strength, laser-sighted intent. Suiting up, every sip. Blackened or filled, pumpkin spice latte. Armored suit, sharpened, muted sword.

Sitting, backdoor entryway, hornet’s nest awaits. Clock ticking, predicted daily tune. Time keeps on slipping, synchronicity at its finest…Steve Miller calls time of death.

Sacred breath, joyous song. Time to counter, mega-voltage output of the day. Weapons sheathed, dusted armor shines. Knelt sacred space, returns heart-felt peaceful tune. Breathing surrounding chaotic bat-shit crazies; breathing out Loving, Peaceful, Transmuted thought.

Calmness returning, midday’s clockwork finest. Lightened load, cracking smiles around corners. Laughter returns, children’s presence no longer absent to chaotic calls.

Our work is done, daily return. Tears, cleansing spirit, clearing collective, returning wholeness as it was. Deep Peace to You, glittered reality. Most glorious of sundaes, most colorful sprinkles atop the day.

Again I say unto thee, Deep Peace to You.

~Ani Po