MORNING DRIZZLE
Barely visible, a transparent sheet
of moisture falls
to the semi-arid earth.
Something precious stirs—
something momentous like a birth.
Summer Solstice happened;
one more spring has passed.
Morning deer have grazed and gone.
A neighbor’s cat appears on life’s screen,
then, ducks out, under our gate.
How much more is there,
to wonder and to love.
Gudrun Mouw (c)
June 20, 2019
IF ONLY…
If only wind would
diminish; if only May would not
feel like winter.
If only humanity were
more humane. If only love
spread wings everywhere,
and rest would stay sweet.
She would be all
that she could, if only
it were June.
Gudrun Mouw (c)
May 23, 2019
My novel, From Ashes Into Light, is a reflection of new insights I gained into PTSD. For example, during an intense flashback to an event that probably caused the original injuries to my ears, I was six years old again; I remembered something that I had repressed.
PTSD flashbacks, I now realize, are part of a healing process. New information creates the space for re-learning, re-evaluating and honoring a journey that may take a lifetime.
Do we need to be reminded, these days, that there is no acceptable hatred? Horrible and reprehensible deeds are not o.k. The trauma such deeds create are not easily overcome. More and more people are suffering from PTSD.
I published the historical/metaphysical novel From Ashes Into Light in 2016 with themes in mind that I hoped would warn against the dangers of tolerated cruelty. I’d like to think this hope was, and is, not in vain.
Gudrun Mouw is a poet, yoga teacher and a novelist. Her novel From Ashes Into Light won 7 awards, including the Beverly Hills Book Award for Visionary Fiction and a silver medal in the Living Now Book Awards for Inspirational Fiction. For more information, please see her bio.
Not Yet The Ides of March
After a cold, dry night,
after destructive rains,
after frozen morning fields,
we drive towards sun
over foothills of discontent.
Earth lifts billowing Tuli clouds
from dark valleys
into a sunlit green.
Will beauty save us
from contracting
with sorrow?
Gudrun Mouw (c)
March 10, 2019
Recently, I have been ruminating on the value of different kinds of community. The first six years of my life were spent in the midst of my maternal East Prussian grandparents’ large Seventh Day Adventist family—one of the lesser known religions targeted by Gestapo. There were 8 children, my mother the oldest, and I was the only grandchild at that time. In spite of grace and the gift of co-operation that helped most of the family to survive both the Hitler and Stalin regimes, family connections were torn apart in many different ways as each member, more or less, found his or her own healing path.
As displaced Europeans, my parents and I left the community of our extended families on both sides and moved to the USA. In my early immigrant years—as an only child separated from the protective sense of a larger group— I felt isolated in my efforts to learn a new language and culture. Much later, after meeting Sri Swami Satchidananda Yogiraj, the community atmosphere and enthusiastic co-operation of a spiritual family that he encouraged was extremely rejuvenating and strengthening for me.
I eventually learned, however, that a community, if it is to be fully viable, also needs to acknowledge disparate elements. Humans are seldom in complete agreement with each other, and that is not even desirable. Open minded, honest discourse increases a community’s capacity for growth.
Today, at the border of a 1960s California housing development and a Wild West nature habitat, we have been observing a group of visiting quail. They remind me of a well functioning community. This morning, I had thrown out some sunflower seeds; yet, the quail remain peaceful, without getting in each others’ way. They exhibited a natural restraint as well as co-operation. I enjoy watching them, especially during these current times when there seems to be a pervasive atmosphere of national anxiety.
And so the quail inspire me to practice a loving kindness meditation: “May I forgive all who have harmed me. May I be forgiven for any harm I may have caused to others. May I be peaceful. May I be happy. May I have ease of body and mind. May all sentient beings be peaceful. May all be happy. May all have physical and mental ease.”
—Om Tat Sat.
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Gudrun Mouw is the author of From Ashes Into Light which won the 2017 Living Now Award for Inspirational Fiction as well as 6 other awards. Find out more here.
I resist this poem so it won’t haunt,
but there is no stopping the taste of water.
How many stupidities act
as if a thought doesn’t fly through the universe,
since secret greed is not secret.
I resist this poem so it won’t hurt,
but there is no stopping that song of the unsung.
Gudrun Mouw (c)
January 13, 2019
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