When was the last time you had a deep, sustained, belly laugh? I remember when my boys were infants they would laugh at a funny face or an unexpected sound I made. I have friends who make me laugh, but more often it’s just a chuckle. I miss that side-aching, tear-inducing, loud laughter. When did I abandon that childlike state of being? I long for the voice of my inner child to sing nursery rhymes and tell knock-knock jokes and play silly pranks. It’s all in good fun after all. Fun is under rated. When you next see me, tickle my funny bone to see if I have remembered how to laugh out loud. LOL



Image credit to

Cosmic Child

She channels love energy through her eyes,

Her heart, and her hands.

She opens her mind, body, and spirit

To the wounded souls who are lucky passers-by.

She is the Cosmic Child

Sent to point the way,

Though few understand where she is pointing.

Her blood is the blood of a savior.

Her bones contain the memories of creation.

She bleeds into our hearts and the memories flow into our marrow,

Granting us a glimpse of our original face —

The child of wonderment.


If we listen closely

Songs of the first sequoias,

The lost worlds,

Atlantis and Lemuria,

Oceans before Pangaea,

Rise and fall

Through her lyrical breasts,

Nourishing our infant souls,

Inviting us to join our corporal

Yet-to-be form

Reforming the bindings into

Remembered laughter.


When such a Mother calls

Run, don’t walk

Into her arms!

Follow her heartbeat back to joy

Let the new song play

Double Dutch,

Patty Cake,

Ollie, Ollie, Outs in free,

Hop the scotch,

And let it be.

© 2016 Bessie Adams Senette

Listen Part 4

Pictures MOM 085

Photo by T Senette

I sometimes let my self get caught up in dooms-day rhetoric. Woe is the world! I forget to look past the ignorance into the heart of the matter. What is really happening? Systems are failing. Belief is informed by circumstance. What can we learn from our mistakes? Are we wise enough to rebuild systems that work for everyone? Can we be peacemakers in spite of the rhetoric? Is God at work here, giving us a chance to press the restart button?

May Day Prayer

May the day come when

All that May Day heralds is

The blooming of the human spirit,

Not the booming of warship cannons and

Bombastic politicians.

Let the celebration of sacred creation

Inspire our dancing.

Let the lilies and roses

Plaster a new path where

Common, human decency

Reigns queen.

Let the sonnet be

Written in love letters not

Gutless, bathroom stall insults.

May Day!

May Day!

This ship is sinking.

Where are the Peacemakers?

Still dancing around the Maypole.

© 2016 Bessie Adams Senette

Listen Part 3


Sometimes I long for things I did not get and wonder how different I would be if I had gotten what I longed for, you know, the what if’s.  I suspect that the mystery will always take precedence over the knowing. But longing is the energetic force that dreams are made of so, whatever the evolution of my experiences, I continue to long and create more dreams. I believe that is humanity’s divine design.



Above my reach

Looking into the womb space of a giant oak

Long ago a felled branch left gaping.

An infant could cradle there.


Must and mites invite my longing child.

Fill the emptiness,

Spirit of mysterious hope,

With the wonderment of not knowing.


Why and how disintegrate.

So many new lives thrive inside the rot,

Feeding on the sorrow of lost dreams.

Look higher into the dappled light

Through spring green,

There are dreams yet unfolding.

© 2016 Bessie Adams Senette

Listen Part 2

Pictures MOM 081

A Listening Sanctuary

In this cacophonous world perhaps it is necessary to cultivate a sense of heart listening, creating a space for re-sensitizing  the connection between our ears and heart. The planet is filled with such places. One doesn’t have to travel far or at all to see beauty that stills the heart and awakens wonderment. Be still and know…YOU are all that; the cacophony, the stillness, the beauty, the heart that listens!

God’s Software

Let’s download the upgrade.

This binary code universe could use some jazzing up.

He rested on the seventh day, so the story goes.

Still he sleeps.

What will it take to wake him up to bring about the eighth day?

–A barrage of prayer

–Another atomic blast

–A single original thought?

Perhaps if we stop the cacophony of his creation for just one minute,

Silence would wake him.

But can we live without


–Baby laughter, or

–Brooks babbling

For even one minute?

No, the eighth day won’t come until our hard drive

Is made compatible with God’s software.

© 2015 Bessie Adams Senette