PULLING OUT THE SOUL

~ a collaborative poem written by the members of CCJ Winter 2019

White clouds float dreamily
above a blue sea as pelicans
fish behind a trolling shrimp boat.

Pulling out the soul.

This beautiful sunny day invites me
to set aside plans so I can soak up
whatever I may find outside.

Pulling out the soul.

Looking out the window at the blue sky
with white puffs of clouds,
I can almost imagine a warm day.

Pulling out the soul.

Nature’s blanket of snow comforting each tree from
winter’s freeze. Comforting snoring of two dogs
shields me from icy streets and frozen fog.

Pulling out the soul.

Fresh white snow covers everything it touches
like marshmallow creme frosting
on sweets.

Pulling out the soul.

Limbs, branches, pine needles
encased in ice. The dangling sycamore branch
resembles a deer’s velvet-covered antler.

Pulling out the soul.

Sliding the garbage down the driveway in a toboggan.
One push. The blue ice melt I sprinkled on the sidewalk
left tiny holes rather than melting it.

Pulling out the soul.

II. Today

Today the snow and icy 6˚ barrier keeping me from the outside world finally broke. After I shoveled 100 feet of upward sloping driveway, a pickup stopped and a gentleman asked if I needed any help. I thanked him, but told him, “No.”

As I pulled out the soul.

Today the world has to await today as I nurse a headache. Birds outside my window sound like a full string orchestra playing out of tune. The cat on my lap, the only soft part of me today, purring.

And pulling out the soul.

There’s a desire line angling through the backyards deep with snow. Created by my neighbor’s two cats as they streak from their back porch to the low evergreen shrubs across the way. Back and forth. On the prowl,.

Ever pulling out the soul.

III. Red Tail Hawk

The red-tailed hawk greeted me as she flew low overhead. I put my hand to my heart and thanked her for visiting me today and asked her to tell my Mom everything is okay here. She circled slowly heavenward and soared out of sight.

Red-tailed hawks are my spirit animal, my sentinels. The day my Mom was passing one sat outside her bedroom window in her maple tree for a long time. A goosebump experience with a hawk.

My friend said if she could come back she would want to be a hawk. The day she was leaving the hospital to go into home hospice a hawk flew past the window. She was only home for one day. When I left her house a hawk flew up in front of me.

Red-tailed hawks appear to me as signs from the universe whenever I’m in need. Just yesterday one flew directly in front of me.

IV. Pulling Out The Soul

Dusting it off
Remembering when you last visited
Attention given
Imagination quick stepping
Inviting creativity
Celebrating friendship
Of soul and heart
Mind moderating the dialogue
Hands worked, words written
poetry sorted
In simple swishing movements of prosaic time
Extraordinary
soul filled visit
Let’s do this again
Tomorrow.

This pulling out the soul.

Written by Debbie, Debi, Jackie, Jean, Jeanette, Joan, Katherine, Michelle, Pat, Sharon, Wendy, and compiled by Bo

About Bo Mackison

I'm a photographer, book-artist, traveler, naturalist, and creator of the Contemplative Creatives Journey, An Online Workshop and Community and Desert Wisdom Cards and Workshops. Though often not well known, I find the desert a welcoming place - a healing space. Its mysteries and gifts transformed me several years ago. Since that first encounter, I return again and again to fill my well in what most people think of as a desolate region. I'd love to share my desert discoveries and wisdom with you. Please subscribe to receive my five part mini email course The Gifts of the Desert. It's my gift to you.