December Posting #2

Mending Me

I am first a seeker

Searching without for so long,

I have now come to seek within.

I am next a spirit.

Captured by human form,

Whispering wisdom so my soul will carry on.

I am almost a butterfly,

Having spent my caterpillar days devouring life,

I settle into chrysalis now, awaiting wings to fly.

I am that which knows itself as one with all that is.

Though some days splintered forms of me

Are scattered by the wind.

I am absent in Holy Presence and present in unholy absence.

I am longing and satisfying.

I am creation and creator.

I am healer and healed.

I am that which I seek but only rarely find.

I am sound.

I am color.

I am movement sometimes huge as a tidal wave,

Sometimes, an infinitesimal shimmer.

I am black as the void,

And more brilliant than the sun.

I am born, and borne, and born again,

And death too represents itself in me.

I am torn and tattered flesh.

Like a weeping willow I bend.

But I hold a truth so solid that I am on the mend.

Life knows its name when I speak it,

For in me, it finds true meaning.

I am, and that I am is enough.

© 2015 Bessie Adams Senette



Photo by Trudy Gomez

December Posting #1


The Beginning of the End

December’s postings recall beginnings and endings. Life is full of those. Each time I leave my 94-year-old-father who is experiencing the end of this life to a new beginning — eternal life, I ask him to kiss my deceased mother for me, if he should go before I return. His wizened, watery eyes look up at me, crinkle at the corners as he smiles and nods. As 2015 comes to a close, our eyes are filled with images of recent senseless acts of violence. I wonder about the souls of those departing this world with so much hate. Who or what will meet them as they cross over? Looking forward to the new year, will 2016 bring about a shift in global consciousness? Will we begin to speak into reality a vision for humanity of inclusive cooperation that honors the dignity of every life? Do we have the will to fight against the urge to fall asleep and numbly accept mass shootings as our new normal? My constant prayer is that we keep our eyes and our hearts wide open.


Inside this dome

       Turtle Island,

I face the sacred West.

Ancestors drumming thunder,

Calling me home.


Hear now

Three rivers converging

An amalgamated trinity





Full moon shining

Light on the path to solemn passage

Where my soul will sleep at last.

Here now, the journey seems so long.

There, merely a wink.


Will God delight,

       Will I,

In what I bring home?


It will have to do.

All has been done

Until soul longs again to

Return to the light of the sun.


Here now

       I dream

                   I hope.


Perhaps next time

My previous shinings

Will be remembered.

Here or there, I will be home.

 © 2015 Bessie Adams Senette

Photo by Bessie Senette: “Tranquility Point Carolina Jasmine in Repose”

Carolina Jasmine