Friday, May 7, 2010

RHIANNON



The story is often told of Rhiannon,

a beauteous fairy deva,

steward of the narcissus and daffodils,

the cedar and pine trees.


She had the adventure,

the fortune/misfortune

to fall in love with a mortal prince,

as he watered his horse,

awed by the nights stars above

and her beauty below.


She agreed, bravely/foolishly

to marry him.

To marry his world of duality,

of form, where the dark weighs

so much more loudly

than the light.


A world where the scales

balancing light/dark

list heavily toward the dark

by the collective freewill choice.


He vowed to love and protect her

for better/worse.

But the accusing voices,

identifying her as different,

as “not of them”, were too many.


He believed the unthinkable,

that she had killed/eaten

their child, stolen as all slept.


The judge “spared” her life,

but punished her gravely

with a collar of shame

and the requirement to carry

all who came across the castle courtyard.


As Rhiannon, we enter the world,

as babies remembering our true light,

our incredible lightness of being.

And as babies we flow our love

to those in form,

and those formless spirits

from the “other side”.


As Rhiannon, we enter the world

believing the vows that we will be

loved for better or for worse….

feeling our deservedness

in our new baby forms.


Then, as Rhiannon we begin

to experience our “differentness”.

We “see” “know” “hear” things

we couldn’t possibly see or know or hear,

that do not match the collective "reality".


Like Rhiannon, in pouring out our love

we are stunned to experience others

hurting us deliberately, out of their wounding.


Like Rhiannon,

we become sentenced to a life,

collared by the yoke of the collective reality.

We feel sentenced to carry others

across the threshold/courtyard.


Until the day, like Rhiannon

when our inner child returns,

that stolen, murdered, eaten child.

And we welcome home that lost part

of ourselves into a life of choice.


Until the day we realize

that it’s OUR choice

whether we carry

anyone anywhere.


It’s our choice how we donate

our light and love

to the darkness,

to the balance.


Lizette Estelle Stiehr

April 25, 2010


Saturday, May 1, 2010

I BREATHE CREATOR’S BREATH


I breathe Creator’s breath in.

I fill with light.

I feel full.

I expand.

My body expands.


I breathe Creator’s breath out.

I see the creation of my life.

I "see" the things,

the blender for my smoothie,

the mephisto sandals I love,

the black shirt I’ll wear today.


I breathe Creator’s breath in.

All returns to the Oneness.

All becomes the light.

The incredible lightness of being.


I AM

the breathe of Creator.

Creator breath’s only

as I breathe,

as you breathe.

We are ONE.


Lizette Estelle Stiehr

May 1, 2010

Experienced so viscerally in my meditation this morning.

BREATHING GOD

The eye by which
I see God,
Is the eye by which
God sees me.

The breathe that
I breath,
inhaling and exhaling,
is God breathing.


Lizette Estelle Stiehr
April 26, 2010