Saturday, January 29, 2011

Here is my mother's poem, which I told about on the dream forum. I am posting it here so that all the pictures can be shown, which seemed too much for the forum. She went to look at Smith Rocks in Oregon, trying to understand what the little ancient stone people on the tops of the cliffs were thinking, as they look down on us from above. She said it wasn't easy, because they don't speak our language. But after she had rewritten her old poem to express what she wanted to say, she said, "It's like the little ancient people are coming home."

Ancient People

Bees hum with the blossoms,
humming blossoms,
singing strings,
fine, high power, electric air
filled with Presence
fresh from the Source.
Sensed before seen,
green, gold and red

swinging blossoms
exhilarating union
tingling skin
prickling anticipation
unknown by intellect.

Imperishable beauty,
wonder of the Source,
the eternity of blue beyond
and between and
in my lungs -

is on fire to be spent!

What is a tree dripping with blossoms for ?
Why is a blossom?
and the liquid air it exhales?
Is the bee only buzzy?
Or is it your chorus?
"Joy to this Day
To creation, Peace,
Inter and in dependence is free .....… dom"
You are shouting,
Let’s celebrate
this tree

What’s been happening where my feet are?
What goes unseen without which
Nothing would be where my eyes are?
What unseen communities of interdependence,
What dance of joy is outlined there?

Activity of the ages,
tons of ages upon tons,
pressed into stone,
dissolved from stone,
burnt & drowned and burnt again

damp, slimy beginnings,
wormy, squirmy struggles
ocean depths and silent inching,
the life that fed life piled deep,

mountain heights distilled
for NOW
always NOW
the forever NOW
even the NOWS I'll never see!

A Song!
What is more NOW than a Song...
and a dance?

“Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all you lands”

And come before Presence .… with a flower

There’s still more to exhale
Is it that as we exhale we are given?

Of course!
The poem never ends...

NOW is forever
NOW is the Word

but only when it’s heard...

Poem by Ruth Alura Dodd 1968 & 2010
Art Work by RAD 1968

Location: Four Springs, California
Photos by JKD & NJDL, 9/2010
Location: Smith Rocks, Oregon
Composed and printed by Geobob Press


  1. just felt like saying "I'm with you sister blue". Amen and Wow your poem and pictures make me feel I am so alive!

  2. So very glad this is here now. Beyond beautiful. Blessings Terron and family.