Kate Lamberg Center for Natural Healing and Creative Arts~

what makes memories memorable is beyond my present belief system it was a whirling hot dry dusty wind crusted eyelids firmly shut as we slept in the canyon a story about how a friend took her life (so avoidable) brought on the gush of tears releasing my gritty sand shut eyes wide open to see the early glint of morning light, stroking the sky's middle- so close to the forever hard mountain rock so early the light's not yet harsh- a lemony jasmine night left its fragrance now melding with morning peonies rosemary sitting upright- the first zen student to teach us when organized religion left us running for the juice even cactus carouse to the point of allowing agave sweetness to roll into jars, into mouths, into this frame of reference--so early the first solitary bird bellows beneath mexican window we wallow in the sweetness soaring zero choreography- we just meld like how we walk in marshland while looking clear across the bay visibility obs...

"You have everything you need in order to be an honest human being. No one ever has to be afraid of the truth. It’s the defenses that we build around the truth that strike fear in our hearts" ~Byron Katie dropping the fences (that we thought needed mending) horses are free to wander in the natural grace of freedom no fence will ever be strong enough to keep out those who murmur peace in their sleep, who are born fantastic flower children- emanating the core of heart's breathing what all live beings gravitate to beyond fences, plows, trees beyond fears, hurts, angers, judgements, jealousies, and greed; we shall meet with drum, strings, reed- ten million voices strong and we shall give in to song-- purely sing! under the forgiving opalescent moon words/photo~kate lamberg (c) '15

             what barn cries for spring to come unbeknownst to fire and rain--the wind which sweeps pine dust easily out the sliding thick pine doors only to encircle those who know the nectar of patience- painting orange paint over raw pine seasons as the summer deepens as we need caps to deflect ear wigs, spiders, flying salamanders--so close to the coast-- the scent of salt spray entwining with wild rosa ragosa sending us to sweep sand witnessing the weather moving from west to east--on this glorious island- as a striped bass.. sending its fins beyond montauk.. its mouth speaking the queens english- third eye somewhere north of williamsburgh, belly flopping between whitman's birthplace, and points further west- willing dreams-- as a fish out of water seeks watery environs-- laying down tracks, as roots, revived- old books brushed off- dust again- and the clear treble sound of wood blocks ...

You don't have any tag suggestions right now. Tag suggestions make it easier to tag friends in photos. writing in long hand across a granite sea wall eye balls glistening--- listening to the ocean's mist cool breeze, waist high--as sun bakes her crown steadying herself in tree pose, no willow would let her go down upon the sand--love, fanning her heart we catch what it is that never filters though cheese- cloth- gingham table cloth- set just so in monet colors...blues and deep golds..impossible to hold throughout the night---we want to step out into the garden--and not miss the bliss---a kiss! in between the rows of low growing primrose how the dashing of stars and the dots of moon beams bless all who simply take the time to resemble nothing near what was already said so late in the night the kite in the tree winks at me from the moon's glow, the garden always does know what is held in celestial trust- assures ang...

A person’s life purpose is nothing more than to rediscover, through the detours of art or love or passionate work, those one or two images in the presence of which his heart first opened.” ~Albert Camus the glint of golden light slipped quietly through the egg shell white painted windows shana sat up in bed,  and looked out of focus into the antiqued gold framed mirror so early- it was before her first alarm would ring-- she looked out of focus into the mirror, across the room--and saw another glinting light, shaped in a clover leaf, pressed into the golden wall she then saw a fuzzy lemon yellow  light surrounding her entire body, while still gazing into the mirror she would a few years later learn was simply her aura reminding her she was safe, vibrant, alive, with work to do on her dharma path: a karmic agreement--with  side steps, and back-slides no fears would destroy her, no tears would slow her persistent striving she stepped out of bed, and...

"Look deep into nature, and you will understand everything better." ~ Albert Einstein the path begins wherever you show up whenever it is humanly possible to shine and you shine without any fussy ideas about what the path may look like you just know....you just glow! words/photo~kate lamberg (c) '15

when i could not sleep last night i lay in bed forming nonsensical words hearing crazy birds at four am not pushing the river, l let tired blend with awake, no mistake yoga followed me to the mat surrendering to breath, stretch lengthening of muscles, opening of joints, listening to lungs wearing the heat of the beat of an awakening heart limb by limb, may skin & bone, warming hands, reaching into the candle light earlier than monastery dawn the (in between) no person's time where life meets with death (shine) as there is no nourishment in resisting the powers that run bodies, & minds on a high wire-- where in the midst of rain sparks the power of fire, in all her elegance---to always serve a much larger audience-- conjoined on this path--to sustain words/photo~kate lamberg (c) cath*odes '15

photo-kate lamberg (c) kath*odes '15 “Born in the purple, born to joy and pleasance, Thou dost not toil nor spin, But makest glad and radiant with thy presence The meadow and the lin.” ~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Flower-de-Luce,

something about a spring morning- unleashed in the woods of deep abiding spirit-- not needing to prove a blessed thing we wander in, pushing through the extraneous-- leaving unanswered messages-as cherry blossoms float through the warm sweetness of billowing air on fire with gentle intensity robins, finches, mourning doves delivering more grist for spirit's mill than any con-temporary thrill words/photos~kate lamberg (c) '15

the loss of a poem, a death not enough neurons firing, to recreate wish i forgot that i even wrote it it was about how we cannot trust the permanence of any thing so in a way it is perfect upon arising, the poem was gone: merged with the great unknown, mist, soil, variegated leaves how yeast disappears, when the golden loaf comes out of the oven-- warm, airy, celestial words/photo~kate lamberg (c) '15

waking up to the spring, nothing  keeping one from discovering what is just beneath the surface of becoming all the inner world bursting, as spring flowers burst, resting in a vase upon the window sill, in all the colors of the rainbow words/photo~kate lamberg (c) '15