Ceilidh MacLeod

[kay-lee muh-kloud]



Christmas Eve
December 24th, 2020


Dancing on your toes
Arms wrapped
Around your warm soft tummy
Breathing in the tartan on your collar shirt
Mismatched to your trews 

Paper crown encompasses the gold within
Crowning you the king of rock
As you leap to your feet
Knees knocking
Lip curling

Santa came early
His clean-shaven face exuding joy 
As we unwrap sweet smelling sets 
Purchased from women 
Charmed across glossy tables

It might not be
But you'd want it to be

Another
Merry 
Christmas





Cords of Light
December 14th, 2020


“We are tied to all those we’ve ever loved by cords of light. Those cords can never be broken. Think of them like a fishing line of love. If you tug on one end, the other end feels the tug. And those on the Other Side are always on the lookout for openings between the worlds. They can locate the portal they need.” — Laura Lynn Jackson








Just Breathe
December 6th, 2020


Missing live concerts. 
Wondering where they go when they close their eyes. 












The Dark Side of the Rainbow by Caren Powell
November 27th, 2020


“His feeling of loss welled into physical pain in his chest, and his throat aches from unshed tears.”






The Other Side
November 27th, 2020


I dip my toes on the other side
As I walk the fine line
Where the weed catches in the sand
And the fleas jump for life






When I go
November 23rd, 2020


There will be no anxiety
No overthinking
Doubts
Anger
Tears
Just one large pool
One body of water
Infinite droplets
Ebbing and flowing
Arms locked 
In a unifying dance
Swaying  
Merged into one unbreakable
Powerful
Energy
With just the cusp of it reaching the surface
Forming in momentary peeks and valleys
Reminders for those teetering on the surface









Embers
November 20th, 2020


Falling from the barbecue 
Twinkling on the cold ground
Like stars
Slowly dying
One by one






In the Horizon
November 7th, 2020


It rained this day. I don't remember the last time it had, so it was already an unusual day, a special one. I started my day by running. It hadn't quite started to rain yet, but the clouds were heavy and I figured it might be a pretty day to run up into the mountains, where sometimes I'm able to escape above the clouds. They were particularly dark on this day, but when I turned back to look at the view through some trees shaking in the wind I noticed beams of light hitting the ocean on the horizon. As if hope lived out there.

As the ascent up the neighborhood street steepened a light drizzle began. It was refreshing and I tilted my head up to feel the drops hit my face. As I looked up I noticed some birds sitting on the power line. They had orange chests and what looked like blue-ish wings, kind of like the one that my medium pointed to on her mug during our last session. She said, "he's pointing to my mug," "look out for this one". The hill felt tougher this time, so I began to walk. It was my dad's birthday, so I called my mom on FaceTime to check in with her. I often like to call her when I'm out on runs or walking through nature. I love to share my surroundings with her, as if we're walking together in real life. We weren't far into our call when a notification popped up on my phone - "Joe Biden will become the 46th US president." We both took huge sighs of relief, not so much screams of joy, but a moment of relief in what has felt like a constant string of bad news. Because this year we've been tuned to expect the worst and who knows what Trump will try to pull next... My mom recalled the moment dad woke her up at 2am 4 years ago to say "he won," marking the beginning of our uphill battle. And here I was, now at the peek of the literal mountain, past the dead owl on the side of the road. Looking out now to a 180 degree view of the land and ocean below, starting my descent, with mom on the phone, talking about our day ahead.









Meditation
October 29th, 2020


I walk through the Amazon forest in my natural being. Bare feet touch the wet leafy ground.

On my way I pass those who have hurt me to my left. I recall the lessons they taught me. I thank them. On my right I pass those I have hurt. I recall my actions, my words. I apologize. 

I approach the clawfoot tub, placed in a small clearing, hot water steaming. 

As I submerge my body, the sound of birds and rain hitting the trees intensifies. I greet those who have passed. 

I let thoughts come and pass as I begin to focus my attention on the river flowing in the distance. Sunbeams crack through the rain clouds, forming blinding twinkles that dance on the moving water, bouncing off and into my eyes. 

I close my eyes, feeling the warmth of the dancing beams hit my forehead. I breathe in. And out. As I breathe in I pull the light into my lungs. As I breathe out I push it down into the tips of my toes. Slowly, with each deep breath, I fill my body up with light. Until it is bursting with light. The source of light.