my road...

[creativesoul]

it is three years later, when i felt broken, like i couldnt pull this off- but- it happens that as i drive up my road, i thank the puddle that decides the fate of each day-if it is raining, it is best to get supplies and head back home- if the sun is out- pack the equipment on the car and run for the door- it is like this on one of the wettest spots on the earth- rain is part of everyday life- they say 'if you do not like the weather in kauai, wait twenty minutes, it will change...' so many wait on the beaches- i try to get shit done... the sun is almost out and i just might follow the bumps in my road down to the bridges-go have a turkish coffee at the medcafe-if i can tear myself away from being tired here- to electricution by caffine...i feel like if i could just sleep- that i would be better off- but i know better=i woke up and dropped a coffee cup- and my friend said 'let me do that for you' she did say i looked like i was going to cry=and i was- this morning i woke up knowing what happened while sleeping, but it didnt make it any better-my heart- knew what my mind refused to believe- these thoughts of past lives and things that appear in dreams are not mistakes-sometimes people get flat tires so they will not leave in the dark and drive snake road...sometimes when the road is water, and the trees hold the house where it is now- the tea leaves sway and the vines are thriving- the master s voice is so quiet here...yet so loud- speaking to me of times past- of the songs and chants- the hawaiian spirits like the baby- our prayers brought him here-this place was a womans place a long time ago- the babies were born next to the river-the birthing rock in haena is in a back yard of a guy that has a spirit house on his land- accross the street the womwn and children s hawaiian bones came up out of the sand right where the singer from chilli peppers were going to build their house- the whole hawaiian crew came and did ceremony- the whole place was radiant that day- like what it as meant for- honoring those that have past-HAENA- has a meaning as all hawaiian places are named for a reason.
the secrets of the island is really all about what you try to manifest- healing, whatever it might be-love, a baby- a home...
the places of the heart are in the journey to HANALEI- ALTHOUGH WHEN I LIVED HERE BEFORE I WAS A MOM, AND ALL THE kids came to our house- there were surfboards on the lawn and my boys just didnt need me for much except love, and that is the way i liked it-i liked a wild house with kids running thru it, and cooking huge meals that always gotten eaten.There is always a hungry surfer kid in Hanalei- 'take a surfer to lunch'- get close and personal with your local surfers...
the road back and forth to Hanalei = to Haena is kind to those that are truly helpless when they see the mountains... the ocean, the colors, the humidity- and the trade winds... the tourists and the continous flow of people from all over the world- the other day i applied for a job- put my beach jungle attire away for one hour- and went to the interview- as i am leaving a man i knew way back says ' do you still do valium?" i had to say NO , AND NATURALLY he asked all this as well a ride 5 blocks to his house where he seems to sleep more than anything else-in front of my potentially new boss- only in Hanalei do these things happen....i think- as my friend and i are laughing at this world- i think maybe God is doing for me what i cannot do for myself'.... may be i would hate that job and everyone that works there too-kind of not possible= but in a fleeting insane moment i laugh- i think about the freaky people i know like all over the world- and smile again-i think about the road and how the times when i least expect it i find myself on the road, thinking odd thoughts and watching my headlights on the curves i know so well- snake road- that is where that lady i know drove off the side before she quit drinking, which is a good thing- but now i am over it with her story-and maybe it might be a good ting to be quiet sometimes- when anyone starts the 'guru' thing where they start professing all the spiritual verbage they read that day with no real connection to living-or the experiences behind the words, the magic behind the medicine.
the road takes on that sunset color orange and the soil looks like it wants to grow vegetables and fill them with amazing minerials form an unpolluted river-
the quiet comes like a slurred statement after a long night- barely understandable but true...--