Kate Lamberg Center for Natural Healing and Creative Arts~

the cold alights her carriage with sporadic snow flakes framing a dream-bound figure with meaning- she turns her life around, as she faces the northern lights blinking  in a winter sky-- what was once felt as a challenge-- stuffed, straitjacketed into a narrow body of icy water- surrounded by land on three sides hands on two sides, now becoming wind howling hosannas, biting her skin, coating her demeanor, demeter delves in these scary waters--- rearranges the fear, that only begins in purely festooned fiction honesty arrives again--quite late... on a southwesterly wind- just in time to tighten the sails, the boat now  in a perfect wing and wing: breath taking-  as the white and blue sheets of the sails   refuse to bellow--simply allow the wind from behind-- to gently push all inhabitants to a strange, yet fragrant place   in the center of chilled salty waters-- before the sun would warm the entire scene words/photo~kate la...

1) carmel on the sea-- endless pacific waters, & redwoods- 2) blessings reach far beyond ordinary shine.... salt air merging with pine haiku/photo~kate lamberg (c) '17

night train, coltrane  shines like the nearest rising star when the moon is new,  and you are riding the night train  into the evening of infinitude,  the infinity of stars takes you beyond whom you thought you were night train  you can more than handle the force of time on vibrato- no longer desiring more than what is, what is  night train on a natural high traveling beyond the stars, and beyond  the thought of the stars no longer death or birth, we arrive at the cessation of karma dharma--  slate swept clean  for ever, and  for ever more night train, you shining coltrane are forever in my brain, the rain is not frozen, but shines  like black molten,   on these steel tracks burning on time  forever churning its particular magic, a chug a chugging in the middle of your dream  you awake from,  and see everything as it is night train goes through both peaceful and turbulent neighborhoods ...

for rick~ no good thing really comes to an end the over-filled tub, the kisses left underneath the ponderosa pine too early to want to forget how tides and tensions get smoothed out, as bed spreads get shook just how the whorl in the shape of your mouth mimics the nautilus shell sitting unpretentiously on the book case communing with the poems, the coffee, the omelette hot off the griddle, into mouths- so close to turning into butterflies---an escher print, another grand sunrise keeping you uppermost in my melancholy  this monday- as good a day as any other day to say i love you words/photo~kate lamberg (c) '17

photo~kate lamberg (c) '17 I dreamed I was simply sitting looking out at the restless, forceful waters of a river- deep inside my ears was this incessant yearning as the river wants to keep on keeping on covering more ground- a blues riff without an ending- just pouring forth blessed fresh water- pushing on--- home to tough trout and and beloved rocks sitting still like aging grandparents carefully watchful, benevolent in a kind of gazing to usher in the tiniest of creatures, feeling the warm gritty sand and dirt beneath the feet of those who have traveled a hundred years steeped in solitude, silence framed, perfectly centered a wind blown watercolor  fleshed out....   in a crisply worn cerebrum-  cherishing! ~kate lamberg (c) '17

my father named the sailboat after me the kathryn jo brought us   to places, performed   such graces to a soul craving the pure freedom of wide open air and churning salty sea i hold this memory as close as buttered toast as i picture your wishing for me a good night sleep when i suffered those times when...i went down under in mood, you'd say, "i can't take it away,   but i can hold your hand.." and how i felt guilty when i began sleeping the night you passed: but memories serve to mediate the night with naught a fright the hand i reach for in the night is felt warmly in the pocket of the japanese kimona you would wear to take coffee on the terrace,   still smelling of moth balls i wear it with wonder, it's true, the length is perfect and colors of bold bluejay blue and spring cloud white mimic the sailboat we'd sail together, without need to speak, and just take in all the splendor of a summer afternoon the northport harbor you said was as beautiful as an...

Wishing all my friends and family a blessed beautiful Chanukah!

winter is settling in, stream trickles  one november night, and by dawn is frozen solid apple trees across the road shudder and drop their last fat green mutsus on a hardened earth neighbors stop by with soup, warn us to shop now-- as an impending storm is thickening in the valley, and a foot of snow is expected by nightfall stacking wood, and placing a few logs in the wood stove i drive down an iced over country road, with a prayer if i slip into the ravine to the left i have had a very good life goddess saves me by allowing my car to go out of control, swerving to the right, into the dipped shoulder I sigh, and praise the highest for keeping me here a little longer to do my humble healing, to play and write and sing,,, through all of this meandering as i hear a pine cone drop, and skid over the frozen over stream ~kate lamberg (c) '17 after listening to enya's 'watermark (1988) Enya - (1988) Watermark ...