Bookmarks
By Kathleen Finn Jordan
Inspiration piece

Bookmark the moment
Bookmark the page
Bookmark the budget
Bookmark the rage
Bookmark the war, the hunger, the pain
Bookmark the earthquake, tsunami, flood rain
Bookmark the efforts against greed and bad will
Bookmark the homeless, the graft, and the kill
Bookmark the progress, the regress, the fight
Bookmark the prayer card, the message, what’s right
Life’s full of bookmarks, as community builds
The new house on the corner, the playground, the thrills
The tutor that gives time, the coach that’s a cop
The reverend that counsels, the old man in the shop
Community of givers creates a network of friends
Significant moments, our memory’s bookends.

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Susan B.
Inspiration Piece

Altars Inside of Me
by Terah Van Dusen
Response Piece

There is an altar inside of my heart. It is as large as the Pacific ocean, as big as the universe. It will contain all that I could ever offer up to it. Everything but the negative, but the bullshit.

When I was a young girl my father taught me the in’s and out’s of the altar. He taught me this like any good parent would do, through example and not lecture. My father showed me that in our home, instead of a big screen t.v., or a t.v. of any size we would center ourselves around a small wooden shelf set a top a clean woven rug, the shelf neatly displaying framed photos of Lord Krishna and his wife; Radha, photos clipped from Back to Godhead magazine including one of of Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada, the guru saint who brought eastern Hindu religion from the banks of the Ghanges to the eastern United States and then eventually westward to us  in California.

In addition to photos the altar held a dish of uncooked brown rice containing the stickends of incense, fat ends lit at the start of every daily worship, a deity of Ganesha, perhaps the most kid-friendly of the Gods, and offerings of warm milk, apples, or blossoms plucked from the native shrubs outside our cabin door. With these memories in mind, I build altars inside of my body.

There is an altar inside of my heart, an altar inside of my head, my face, there is an altar inside of the soles of my feet and inside of the parts that make me Woman. Upon these altars I place sea shells, I place moss and twigs and the burnt orange peels that my dad would place on top of the woodstove to produce a fragrance.

I build a Ganesha out of clay and place him squarely at the soles of my feet. I fashion angel wings out of raven and dove feathers and with them I create two angels and name them Constance, and Gladys. I outfit the Goddesses that guardian my altars and I dress them in saris, princess dresses, and kimonos…a blue gown for Yemaya, the goddess of the sea, coral and jade for Radha, Krishna’s wife, who reminds me to be more patient and selfless in love, red for Venus, the very goddess of love, and yellow for Mary, mother of Christ.

There is an altar inside of my heart. It is as large as the Pacific ocean, as big as the universe. It will contain all that I could ever offer up to it. When I was a young girl my father taught me the in’s and out’s of the altar and with these memories in mind, I build altars inside of my body. There an altar inside of my head, my face, there is an altar inside of the soles of my feet and inside of the parts that make me Woman. Upon these altars I place hope. I place self-love. I offer up my potential and surrender my sorrow. I build altars in my body and in my home. I build altars inside of my heart.

Note: All of the art, writing, and music on this site belongs to the person who created it. Copying or republishing anything you see here without express and written permission from the author or artist is strictly prohibited.