Great - enjoyed reading. Poetry allows space to flow in. Thanks.

I very much agree. And there's more where that came from, if you haven't already found it on her blog. This woman is prolific!

What a beautiful poem! I have had a similar experience as a consequence of my single bout of breast cancer, and in fact one of my now 216 poems is entitled "Cracked Open." Rather than post that one, I am offering here one that I wrote after encountering Belleruth in a certain Cleveland deli.

DIVINE COINCIDENCE

There she was,
distinctively coiffed, unmistakable,
her startlingly white hair
a curly halo of the enveloping icon kind,
a Goddess arriving for lunch at the deli.

I never go there, I’m from out of town,
but today the Universe was working through an old friend
who had just touted me onto it
as we discussed how to reconnect
after meeting by chance at another restaurant
after 25 years apart:
another divine coincidence.

I was enjoying the latkes piled high with corned beef,
applesauce on the side,
and I did not expect to encounter a deity
and have my day, not just my lunch, turn into Heaven,
but there she was, the Goddess of Healing,
the one who had been there for me, in electronic form,
when I needed her.

Not sure it was her,
I tried to reach out and tune in to her energy,
since I’m into that now, feeling the vibes I mean.
Immediately my mind became a dizzy downward spiral
and my eyes snapped shut as though the lids were magnetized.
I guess I’m lucky I didn’t fall off the stool.

When I could open my eyes again,
everything looked brighter and clearer,
present in all its detail but not overwhelming,
and the sounds were like that, too:
so much richer and more alive,
a different level of consciousness entirely.

That is one powerful woman if she can affect me like that,
across a crowded lunchroom with her back turned.
Of course I’m conditioned to her voice,
and now I was in the grace of her presence.

Finally I collected myself,
putting the remaining mounds of the momentous lunch
into a container
as we both rose to go.
We chatted at the register and on into the parking lot,
a goddess and a mortal in the winter rain.

I tried to tell her then
how she had been the friend who held my hand
when there was no one else,
through the months of doctors,
through the surgeries,
through the recovery,
and how she had been present
for the birth of my grandchild,
and how she had guided me into realms of Spirit
and higher consciousness,
and how she had inspired me
to live in contact with my soul.

But I didn’t say those words.
Instead, I asked her
if she thinks Obama is a lightworker.
Maybe she is one herself:
I wouldn’t doubt it,
and who better to answer that question.
She replied, eyes turned upward:
It has to be coming from someplace.

Maybe the same place
this delicious, divine coincidence came from.
Thank you, Belleruth,
and blessings.

© 2009 by Jeanette Reynolds Keenan

Jeanette,
This has been an extraordinary week, not the least of which is this extraordinary poem. I accept the profound compliment, but I would also like to gently and respectfully suggest that the attributes you so generously ascribe to me are a projection of your own inner power and beauty. Kind of like the polar opposite of paranoia! Do you have a website or book with the other 215 poems? You got the gift!

Thank you, Belleruth. I don't yet have a book or a website, and some of the poems will never see the light of day in any case, but here's another I hope you will enjoy.

LIGHTWORKER

It is as though
an ever-flowing stream
runs through you
and refreshes me

You speak
and I hear the voice of God
calling me
to my highest vibration

leaving behind
the old life
contracted in pain
dark and alone

bringing new life
light and abundance
freedom and joy

so I may bring
the light to others

© 2008 by Jeanette Reynolds Keenan