make me a fiddle made of light
strung in silken chord
hollow it out like a bone so it will hum and ring
adorn the body of my fiddle with red butterflies.
red to remind me of the scar
that you pulled the fiddle from.
along the ragged edge you
dragged your holy blade
to take material for my fiddle
and clean up the opening
with your own tears.
not unlike adam’s own rib
the fiddle is the rib of me wittled down
and weightless like light.
in the wake of that cut
there were thousands of tiny
itsy bitsy crysallis that clung to the edge
unborn and shimmering
see them glimmering in the full moon?
when I play my fiddle that you made
the butterflies can lift out one wet wing
and then another and fly around
as long as they come back to me
so I don’t forget who I am.
did I mention
I need my fiddle to be waterproof?
otherwise I fear the hot salty sorrow of tears
will melt it down.
teach me how to play it
to give levity to my gravity
and cause my bare feet to jig again.
teach me to sing the song again
or a new one if you have a spare.
make my fiddle la mariposa roja
so that in it’s bright company
I might begin to fly after
heal. heal. heal.
I trust in the song of a fiddle
made this way, composed
of soul and scar blood and butterfly wisdom
It is in these sacred things
that Our Lady breathes upon,
and then stitches up
with her red threaded kneedle
that I can learn to trust
the song of the universe again.
Lord make me an instrument of they peace – Saint Francis
Hola my Amigas.
It is Saturday and it is the full moon. Tonight a ritual will happen and we will offer our prayers for ourselves and for the world.
Two days left on this journey to Colorado to meet the Cantadora. I keep wanting to make sense of my notes that are strewn with wisdom and words, ideas and images, stories and dreams and a fair amount of blood and magic and mystery. But instead on my breaks I write and write. Instead of trying to remember what I heard I pour it into my images and my words, hoping to integrate ideas about what Dr. E says. This is not a direct quote, but close based on what I was able to capture from something she said this morning…
Don’t say you don’t have time to take care of yourself – to stand naked in the night air – you could have made the time. Saying you don’t have the time is a complex of being too busy.
Here are a few direct quotes…simple and short enough to have captured accurately.
Self care is the care of the spirit child – Dr. E
Sugar is a form of blindness. Dr. E
Dance every day. Dr E.
and this morning over 100 people danced to Proud Mary by Tina Turner…
loving you every minute. sending you a cup of tea from the red thread cafe in colorado.
Woven in red