For Years You Have Travelled

For years you have travelled
musk mixing with loam
obscured
shadow stalking
the edges
of my mind.
Bask in the heat
of exposure
naked skin
sings in the sun.
Berries are ripe
& ready to harvest
rejoice
as sweet juices
kiss your chin.
Slumber safely
embraced by wild flowerings
breathe-
slow-
long-
inhaling the blossoms nectar.
Suckle
the buzzing hive
savor
the gift of honey
caressing your tongue.
Dive to the depths
& drink deeply
from the clear pools
of my eyes-
your reflection
mirrored
dances across the surface
of my soul.
Come!
Claim your deed.
Climb the canopies of my longing
& experience
the acreage of my heart.
-ew

Buried Alive

Taking the time
to find the motherless child
who ran away
so very long ago-

buried alive
the goddess within
scratches
& pounds
with knuckles
bloody
& raw
on the barred door
of my being

soul
dehydrated
split
& cracked
longing for the swollen teat
of my warrior woman
so
that i may drink
of her courage
& find my feet
to run
through the woods
wild
howling
drying my wings
so that i may leap
from the cliffs
soaring
courageous
through the darkness
to welcome
the dawn
of my rebirth

Tempest

there's a storm
stirring in my soul
clouds are forming
beneath my eyelids

the tempest tempts

perhaps I'll give in
stop swimming
let the dark currents
pull me under
so I can finally sleep

Shredded

shredded
from the knowledge
that no one
wants
me
enough
   to be present
fully
    in my life

false words
empty promises

always that convenient
      bench
   to sit on
         momentarily
      & then be gone

a tree giving
   uprooted
  in life's storm

Crimson Warning

i scream & scream & scream
but you never hear me-
no one ever hears me
i'm shattered
the shards of my heart
tear the foot's flesh
& i leave bloody prints
along the way
a crimson warning
to those too weak
to traverse
the path of longing

Your River

Your River ran by me

Filling- spilling the floodgate

Diving with abandonment-

I drown in the ecstatic waves of possibilities.

Your River ran over me

& I let go

Divinely currented by Your Love

I am one with the Waters of Creation

Mere rocks cannot stop the flow of Spirit.

Your River runs through me

Washing the locust years away-

Midnight expunged

I dance with the Invisible.

Your River runs As Me

& as drunken Majun

I whirl dervishly in Your Light.

The Gardener

Fertile and rich

You have been my Soil

Feeding my gentle seed

Nurturing growth.

You have been my Water

My Wellspring

& I suckled there

Always thirsty.

You have been my Sun

Fountain of Light

I reached towards You

You sprang my growth towards the Stars

Feeding my Longing to couple with the Heavens.

You have been the Gardener of my Soul

Weeding the choking’s of ego

Freeing me to expand my Roots

To the absolute depths of my being

Moving through the darkness to find my Strength

My Grounding.

Now You have given me the greatest gift of all

For now You are my Wind

Moving through me

Beyond this meager shell

Scattering my ripened seeds to the world

Releasing me.

Mongolian Queen

Mongolian queen
covered in skins
rides
thighs wrapped tight
around her chosen warrior.

One with their horse
they travel
through days
full moon thunderstorms
butterfly mountains-

till he gives her the seventh rainbow
& pink rain
falls on purple mountains.

& he takes her
wind tangled
horse numb
to his arms
to his bed
to their dreams
Home

Like a kite in a child's hand....

I want to live and to love

as the kite flies

buoyed on sweet winds

& when those winds die down

or drop away from me

& I come crashing down to the ground

I want to trust

as a child does

in the power of repair

& have their courage

to seek new winds

& fly even higher

A Wolf

A wolf, black as night
circles the slippery banks of Reason
watching me drown
pulled under by the weight
of my armoured heart

I die & climb naked from the dark waters
no longer a stray dog licking at the air
trying to taste of the spray
I have lept over the edge
& become one with the falls

I am called to join the pack
& hunt the scent of wine

Tasting the sweetness
of Longing
lining my lips
I stand
eyes wide open
heart unsheaved

Your Gaze

Your gaze

sparked

the tender tinder

of my heart

setting it ablaze.

Touch

Igniting skin.

Breath on my neck

fans the flames

feeds the fire

Broken pieces

of me

held

in your arms

a foundry

making me molten

The artist

of my freedom

hammering

pounding

me

again and again

until I am whole

beneath your hands

You Saturate

You saturate my senses

Your skin’s scent

breath’s song

life’s heat

Your salt lines my lips…

Eyes closed

thousands of miles away

touching the memory of your smile

and my heart explodes

with the light of you

I face the darkness

alone

peaceful

unafraid

The Heavens

The Heavens

once torn apart

& mended upon our meeting
feel the strains of stitches
as the distance weighs

My Soul screams your name
& the echo
swims in tears

-elizabeth weber

Blood of My Heart

You are

the blood of my Heart

Yet

You have found a way

To haunt

my flesh

-elizabeth weber

I Am On My Way to You

I am on my way to you

& I am in the clouds

I see them with my eyes

feel them in my soul

You are my grounding

my earth

& I can barely contain my laughter

as I think about

waking up in the morning

with the scent of you

buried beneath my nails

-elizabeth weber

An Unsheaving of the Heart

A wolf, black as night
circles the slippery banks of Reason
watching me drown
pulled under by the weight
of my armoured heart

I die & climb naked from the dark waters
no longer a stray dog licking at the air
trying to taste of the spray
I have lept over the edge
& become one with the falls

I am called to join the pack
& hunt the scent of wine

Tasting the sweetness
of Longing
lining my lips
I stand
eyes wide open
heart unsheaved"

-elizabeth weber
An Unsheaving of the Heart, acrylic on canvas, 20x20, $400

Winged

the beat of my wings

across your open sky

ring the heavens

calling all to witness

the miraculous freedom

of an unfettered Soul

in flight

-elizabeth weber

"Winged", acrylic on canvas, 40 x 40, $1600

nestled in your arms

nestled in your arms

breath mixing with musk of skin

rhythmic lullaby of heart

serenades my soul

riding the gentle swell of breathing

in the darkness of sleep

i reach for you

and in the freedom of dreams

you are always there

-elizabeth weber

Beyond the Cliffs

“Daring to live means daring to die at any moment but also means daring to be born, crossing great stages in life in which the person we have been dies, and is replaced by another with a renewed vision of the world, and at the same time realizing that there will be many obstacles to overcome before we reach the final stage of Enlightenment.” – Arnaud Desjardins

A few posts ago I wrote about the painting “Choosing to Trust.” Here is an excerpt from that:

Recently, I found myself in a situation where I was blessed with the opportunity to choose to trust. Doing so meant I would have to step beyond years and years of painful heartache and self-doubt. And in that moment when I chose to trust, I felt myself setting fire to all of intellects careful research and documentation it has been collecting for ages. And as intellect’s screams of doom chased me down I joyously leapt from the treacherous precipice of fear, and smiled as I finally saw the view beyond those cliffs (but that is another painting). In Choosing to Trust, I chose to be free.

I spoke about the view from beyond the cliffs. It is in fact a spectacular view. You can finally see beyond all the negative emotional chains that normally bind us and keep us from truly loving, from truly being free.

When I jumped, I flew. And I flew for awhile. I tasted the sweet, intoxicating nectar of being one with my Divine Nature.

This painting came from the joyous space of finally being free from it all for the first time.

In fact while this painting was coming through, each time I closed my eyes I could see nothing else but this view. It was screaming to be born from within.

Since then, however, I have come to see something more in this painting.

Someone close to me shared that they experienced a sense of hell in this painting. At first I set that image aside, knowing that it wasn’t hell to me, because I was flying above it all and looking down, but as I thought about it, and what I have experienced since that leap, I can see it clearly.

For when I jumped off the cliff and let go, I left fear, guilt, shame, self-doubt, mistrust, jealousy, and pain behind. All of those things did not disappear; they are still down there below me. So in fact if you think about it, those emotions are a personal self-made hell.

However, like Icarus, I became exhilarated by the thrill of flying and began to get careless. I flew too close to those fires of my hell, and my wings could no longer hold me. I fell. Perhaps I couldn’t really let go of those things that weigh us down.

Why are we so attached to our baggage? It seems that as soon as we finally free ourselves from it, when we finally set it down because it has become too heavy and is weighing us down, we rush back to check on it. It is as though we need to make sure it is still there. We are almost protective of it. We feel naked without it and we are fearful of our nakedness.

We are so used to seeing a muddy reflection of ourselves that when we finally have the courage to clean off the mirror we don’t recognize ourselves. Our raw and freshly exposed skin tingles from a sense of heightened and electric awareness. Not unlike a reptile sloughing off a skin that has become too tight to grow further; its new skin is sensitive to everything in its environment.

Instead of just delighting in the experience of fully feeling for the first time, we rush to retrieve our masks that we packed away in that luggage back there. We pick up that stifling mask of fear or blinding mask of self-doubt and re-cover our brilliant Souls with them, blocking out the Light. We climb back into that incredibly heavy armor of ego and we can no longer fly from the sheer crippling weight of it.

But unlike Icarus, we have the opportunity to leap from the cliff again and again to test our trust in our inherent ability of flight. It is the mistrust of the birthright of flight that causes us to keep crashing headlong into our personally created hells. But if we have the courage to climb the jagged rocks of attachment, we can choose to jump from the precipice once again, re-birthed in the Heavenly Skies, killing off a part of our false identities.

So let’s be like children and take a running leap, hand in hand, off the edge.

Ready? On the count of three. One, two, three….

Drunk in Your Forest

Having drunk deeply

of your heady musk

I lay intoxicated in your forest

With the boughs of your being

encircling my existence

I watch the sunlight flickering

across my eyelids

as the leaves of your soul

dance

on the breeze of your breathing

Slipping under the spell of sleep’s seduction

I feel drops of your dew

gently

drip

from my warm

soft

petals

-elizabeth weber

Choosing To Trust

What does it mean to you when someone says “trust”? I know that the dictionary says trust is the, “reliance on the integrity, strength, ability, surety, etc., of a person or thing; confidence.” But to me, it doesn’t seem to really say what trust is. Trust is much more than some sterile sounding words. When I look at myself and see the fertile soil of life under my nail beds and see the dried blood Life’s thorns drew, sterility has no meaning to me.

When I think of the word trust, or more importantly, when I choose to trust in something, it means I have let go. I have let go of fear. I have allowed myself to step beyond the past and embrace the “Now.” All of our fears, our doubts, and our rationalizations as to why we, or someone else, can or cannot do something are based in our past experiences. As children, we don’t doubt our abilities, until something challenges those beliefs in ourselves. Perhaps it was a personal “fall” of some kind, or a “pulling down” placed upon us by another.

To me, trusting in something, or someone, even myself, does not mean that they won’t mess up, or let me down, or not do what I am hoping that they will do. It means knowing that regardless of what happens, or how my preconceived notions of how something is supposed to turn out differ from the end result, that I will be okay anyway.

It seems impossible to me to trust in something or someone unless you follow Heart. I say this because that is where I experience Truth. When I am in a situation and need to decide what to do, it does not matter how much my useful and very complicated brain tries to help me. If Heart speaks of a different path, a different decision, and I choose intellects well thought out plans…. Well, that’s when regret’s shadow covers my path. And regret is a very dark and thick presence that can obscure all Light if you let it.

Yet, this is when it can get tricky.

You see, intellect is a very clever little monkey, capable of creating all kinds of fancy charts and diagrams, that are all color coded with pages and pages of annotated references to past experiences, none of which are ever very pretty. (I wonder why intellects secretary always shreds the triumphant files….?) And it is especially skilled at pointing out to Heart all the times when it experienced pain.

But Fearless Heart knows Truth. And that is a very, very powerful combination. Heart knows pain intimately. And those of us, who still place trust in Heart, know that the deeper we feel that pain, the higher our joys can fly. There is no difference in the two.

Recently, I found myself in a situation where I was blessed with the opportunity to choose to trust. Doing so meant I would have to step beyond years and years of painful heartache and self-doubt. And in that moment when I chose to trust, I felt myself setting fire to all of intellects careful research and documentation it has been collecting for ages. And as intellect’s screams of doom chased me down I joyously leapt from the treacherous precipice of fear, and smiled as I finally saw the view beyond those cliffs (but that is another painting). In Choosing to Trust, I chose to be free.

The Path

The gods threw electric flowers

to line the path of our meeting

My senses ablaze

The bees are busy in the hive

& the honey flows freely

-elizabeth weber

in the freedom of dreams

nestled in your arms

breath mixing with musk of skin

rhythmic lullaby of heart

serenades my soul

riding the gentle swell of breathing

in the darkness of sleep

i reach for you

and in the freedom of dreams

you are always there

-elizabeth weber

The Beloved

To say we have been expereincing some rain in Little Rock is an understatement. So, it seems fitting to start off my new blog with this magnificent sunrise inspired painting entitled, “The Beloved.”

A group of us one morning in Los Angeles, California made a pre-dawn trip up into the Santa Monica Mountains. We gathered along the cliffs to the ocean and each found a solitary place to witness this glorious event. I invite you to take that journey with me.

Imagine sitting alone in the dark on the ground. You can feel the remnants of Night’s dampness and chill seep into you as you wait. You can hear Ocean teasing Shore awake. You start to see a soft glow as Sun starts its walk up the back of Mountain. You can see Him getting closer and closer to Mountain’s shoulders, and then rise above Mountain’s head. You can feel Him begin to gently enclose you in His blanket of warmth. You close you eyes so you can “see” better. Sun’s grip on you tightens and all you can feel is all the darkness within you starting to catch fire and burn away. You witness that fire spread through every inch, every pore of your being. Instead of ashes, only white light is left behind. And even though your eyes are closed you can still see the light, the heat, of Sun. At some point your realize that you have joined Sun in this morning dance and you no longer feel burdened with your heavy body and you dance with all of your heart as your Soul is lifted with this rising heat. When you open you eyes, you are surprised that you have actually been turning to stay one with Sun and you now see Him in his full Glory over Ocean’s body.

And then, you go home and paint….

The Beloved, Elizabeth Weber, acrylic on canvas, 30 x 30, $600