Kundalini Splendor

(This is Aeneas feeding the birds. His namesake founded a new kingdom. Perhaps he will do the same.)

I will be going on vacation for the next two weeks (Colorado--to see the aspen turn)so I will not be putting up blog entries for awhile. Have a wonderful rest of the month!

A Giant Crystal

Sometimes I think
that many of us
came here
taking
the same vow.

We were from some other
planet, or distant star,
or perhaps that realm
which Plato talks about
where the soul resides
before it comes back again.

Many had been here before
and brought
the hidden gifts those
lifetimes had bestowed--
ritual fires
to call the gods,
images, music from some other plane,
healing potions
from ancient pyramids--
all to stir
the inner streams of light,
to awaken self to source,
and together make a giant crystal
turned to sun.

Dorothy Walters
September 15, 2007

The Stages of Bliss

Once, yogi returned,
I sat on the floor
ankles crossed,
did puja
with bells and clasped hands—
asanas were the key—
heavy bliss flows stirring
like rivers of love,
everything for the god/goddess
who had come at last.

Next I became music—
kirtans, bhajans,
Brahms,
honey in the throat,
the hands.
Sacred sounds
to stroke the hidden
centers awake,
angels
kissing me alive.
Who could refuse
such favor?

Then it was Buddha
beckoning,
thongka on my wall,
image bringing
unbearable joy.
I bowed and rapture
flooded my crown,
my body.
I withstood it to the edge
of feeling
as I rose toward
some other realm.
Was I still there?

Now I stand
in the center of silence
soft wind stirring leaves
moon stilling the waters.
I bow quietly,
move little.
Light flowing.
in gentle pulses,
a subtle sweetness,
the other telling me once more
who I am.

Dorothy Walters
September 8, 2007

Holding god

Man can embody truth
but never know it.
W. B. Yeats

Everyone knows
that you can't hold god
in your arms,
give it a name.

Nonetheless,
some keep on trying
for containment,
with their telescopes
and measuring rods.

Some declare
that if you can't put it
on a scale,
or if it doesn't, like
a snail,
leave a track
of where it goes,
it doesn't exist.

That way,
they are safe.

That way,
they don’t have to know.

Dorothy Walters
September 14, 2007

Patricia's Journal of her vigil continues

12-SEP-2007butterflies of hope

Friends, I have had an extraordinary day here in Washington, DC, a day that has filled me full to bursting with hope for our world, and a day that has left me so sleepy I can barely keep my eyes open even though it is only 8:30 p.m. What I'm going to do is take a shower and go to bed. When I wake up, which is likely to be in the early morning hours, I will prepare and post today's collection of photos and write my blog entry. But first let me get some sleep...

It's now 6 a.m. and I've been up since 1:30 a.m. working on my photos from Day #3 of my peace vigil here in DC. I've just finished uploading 39 new photos to my Iranian Vigil for Peace photo gallery. Click here to see them. And now I'm going back to bed for a few more hours of sleep. I'll write Wednesday's blog entry when I get up. I promise!

It's 9 a.m. on Thursday and I'm back, ready to share Wednesday's many adventures with you...

I call this blog entry "butterflies of hope" because of the people I met, people who are acting in ways to bring peace and justice to our nation and our world, with the emphasis on the word, "act." People like the coalition called A.R.T., Activist Response Team. On my way to Capitol Hill for my daily vigil for a peaceful solution to our concerns about Iran, I happened upon a group of people in a park near the Capitol. I heard them before I saw them because they were speaking through a sound system using phrases like "End the war now!" and "Peace in the Middle East." I could tell they were my kind of people! And when I crossed the street and saw the decorated truck with a "Gold Star Families for Peace" banner on its side, I knew I was right. For the next 45 minutes or so, I talked with Laurie Arbeiter, one of the organizers of this postcard action for peace. Laurie is an artist/activist who was one of the founders of The Critical Voice in NYC (http://www.thecriticalvoice.org, the group that started the "We will not be silent" T-shirt and banner campaign. She showed me one of 9 books with over 4000 copies of postcards written by people across the country who want their elected officials to represent their views and stop the wars and aggression that the U.S. has been engaged in, especially since 9/11. I also heard these messages being read aloud on a stage--that was what I'd first heard--which I learned they'd been doing throughout the night. And I met Barbara Cunningham from San Antonio, Texas, and Ann Shirazi for NYC, who was so grateful when she saw my sign. Ann has been married to an Iranian man for 40 years and calls his family in Iran her own. Like I, Ann is terribly concerned with the current White House PR campaign to demonize Iran in preparation for attacking it. This group's planned action was to take their 9 books of postcard messages to the Speaker of the House, Rep. Nancy Pelosi's office at 11 a.m. and stay there until she met with them. Several were prepared to be arrested if necessary.

So, by 9:30 a.m. I had already seen my first butterfly of hope. But there were many more to come.

Soon after parking my scooter and holding up my sign in front of the Rayburn House Office Building, I was greeted by Col. Ann Wright, a co-founder of Code Pink, and her two companions, Brandy and Miles. Ann and I had gotten to know one another last summer when she was part of the Troops Home Fasters in front of the White House, and I was there mounting my 18-day solitary vigil for Lebanon. Today they were on their way to Rep. Nancy Pelosi's office to join the A.R.T. postcard campaign.

The next butterflies--and there must have been 100 of them!--marched right by me on their way into the Rayburn House Office Building to see their Congresspersons, including, as it turned out, Rep. Nancy Pelosi. Lots of action in her office on this beautiful September day! It was the deported immigrants' rights icon/activist/organizer Elvira Arellano's community from Chicago, and they wanted to talk with their elected officials about the rights they deserve under our Constitution but are not receiving. This group of men, women and children had just arrived from Chicago by bus--at least a 20 hour ride--and would be turning around and going home tonight. But for now they were full of energy and life! Included in their numbers were 8 year-old Saul, Elvira's son, and the Rev. Walter Coleman, pastor of the church where Elvira took sanctuary for many months.

And this gathering of butterflies wasn't over yet. Next I met Meg and Ovidio Pena Wer, parents of Mario, who had walked from Chicago to DC on a March for Peace that had started months ago in San Francisco with two students, Ashley Casale and Michael Israel. Not long after I met Meg and Ovidio, Ashley and Michael appeared, but only long enough for me to snap a quick picture as they were also joining the A.R.T. folks in Rep. Nancy Pelosi's office.

From then on, it was butterfly by butterfly. Jim Goodnow, a 68 year-old Texan, who has not been home in over two years because of his commitment to driving the 40 foot Yellow Rose Peace Bus (http://www.theyellowrosepeacebus.com) around the country, going wherever he is needed. He told me he'd covered 29 states and approximately 35,000 miles in that time! Bill McPherson from Washington state, who was in town for this Saturday's antiwr march and carried a huge handmade sign on which was written, "Defend Our Constitution--2008 Is Too Late--Impeach Now!" Anne and David Bollen from Goulburn, Australia, who stopped to voice their support of the messages on our signs and even posed in a group portrait while holding my sign. Engy Tawfeik, who is on the faculty of economics and political science at Cairo University in Egypt. Jim Goodnow remembered seeing her with her students at General Petraeus's speech before Congress on Monday, the speech in which he said the "troop surge" in Iraq had been successful. Successful??? Camp Casey's Poet Laureate Rick Burnley who recited several of his excellent political poems to Bill McPherson and me on the street corner. And finally, the Monarch butterfly who is pictured above. I met this butterfly in the tiny jewel of a park where I took my breaks and finished my day.

But there were other unnamed butterflies fluttering around me all day long, and these were the countless passersby--many of them staffers for Congresspersons inside these halls of power--who expressed their support for my message in words and gestures. Yes, it was a VERY good day! And now it's time to get out there again...

Here is the latest of Patricia's journal entries describing her Washington vigil. To see earlier entries, go to her photo-a-day gallery and scroll backwards. And for her additional pictures, go to her Photos from My Iranian Vigil for Peace gallery.

I talked with Patricia this morning by phone. She sounds in excellent spirits. This woman is indomitable.

11-SEP-2007

We are not alone

Today was the day I learned that we are not alone in our commitment to finding a nonviolent solution to our country's concerns about Iran. Not only did I find my old activist buddy, Jay, in front of the Capitol mounting his own vigil and entering his second day of a hunger strike, but our signs were worded almost exactly the same! I'd known Jay during my solitary vigil for Lebanon in July and August 2006. At that time he was in the middle of a hunger strike for Darfur. Jay always offered me support and a smiling face during those brutally hot 18 days I spent in front of the White House entering into nonviolent dialogue about the Israel/Lebanon war with persons from around the world. And here we are again, this time vigiling for the very same purpose!

As if meeting Jay weren't enough of a boost, Jan Pendlebury of Peace Action of New Hampshire and the NH chapter of the National Environmental Trust stopped to thank me for mounting this vigil and ended up standing with me and even holding my sign at two different times during the afternoon. It was great to have a sister at my side, especially since today's weather was not too conducive for outdoor vigils. It rained off and on--mostly on--all day. I was grateful for every bit of raingear I had with me, including my plastic poncho, a black plastic bag to cover my scooter's control panel and basket--where my camera was housed--and an umbrella. But I've learned that mounting a vigil under difficult weather conditions can touch people more than if you do it on a lovely day. Your commitment is out there for all to see.

However, I was happy that the rain had stopped by the time I'd taken a wonderfully welcome hot shower back at the hotel and changed into dry clothes. It meant I could eat a yummy veggie burger and delicious hot cheese soup at my favorite outdoor cafe. And then I could scoot around taking photos. During my scoot I met David, Jamie and their little boy, Nathan. They had driven in from West Virginia for a peace march commemorating 9/11, but had had to miss it because they couldn't find parking they could afford! But we did find one another, and it was wonderful to meet two more people who share our hunger for peace. I think there are more of us out there than we realize.

This city, Washington, DC, has deep meaning to me. I was born here and am a fifth generation Washingtonian on my father's side. Thomas Carberry, the first mayor of Washington, DC, is one of my ancestors. Everywhere I look there are memories of my childhood and family. When I scooted by the Willard Hotel today, I remembered my grandfather who had worked there at one time in his life. The National Theater brings back memories of all the plays my parents took us to see, including "Auntie Mame" with Carol Channing, and "West Side Story" on its pre-Broadway run in 1958. So you see, coming to DC is like coming home for me. I'm sure that's why I feel comfortable mounting a vigil here by myself.

I've added today's photos to my Photos from My Iranian Vigil for Peace gallery.

As many of you know, Patricia Lay-Dorsey (the dear friend who set up this site for me) is a gifted artist, writer, singer, and photographer, as well as a profoundly dedicated activist for peace. Last summer, she stood alone in the excruciating heat of Washington, D. C., to display her sign protesting the invasion of Lebanon. She has returned to Washington, this time to protest the threatened bombing of yet another "enemy."

Here are the first entries from her journal of her vigil. To see the pictures which accompany the text, (they add a great deal), go to her site at:
http://www.pbase.com/windchimewalker/photoaday9

(Note: read from the bottom up. The first entry appears at the bottom.)

Monday, September 10, 2007

Day #1 of my Iranian peace vigil was excellent, and I have all of you to thank for that. Well, maybe not ALL, but certainly most! Yes, I sat by myself with my sign in front of the American Enterprise Institute from 8:30 a.m. until 4 p.m. with a half hour off for lunch, but I never felt alone. It was as if I were surrounded by large numbers of my sisters and brothers, all of us wanting the same thing, all of us willing to respond kindly to unkindnesses--only one, really, when a woman called me a moron--all of us ready to dialogue nonviolently with anyone who felt so inclined.

I'd thought I was going into the "belly of the beast" because the American Enterprise Institute (AEI) is considered the #1 neoconservative think tank in the U.S.--Dick Cheney's wife is one of its executives--but instead I found individuals who may not have agreed with my message but who, in almost every case, were courteous and sometimes downright kind. Now some of that may have been because I was totally non-confrontational, smiled a lot, and am a "little old lady in a wheelchair," but it might also have been the fruit of some inner work I did on my long drive to DC. I'd realized that I still had some hatred of the "powers that be" and that if I mounted a solitary vigil with that kind of negativity in me, I would be bringing more harm than good. So I released it. And today I saw that I really had, because when Newt Gingrinch walked right in front of my scooter, my immediate response was a smile and a nod. Yes, I've come a long way!

Let me talk about the kindness of strangers. It was a very hot, muggy day, and folks seemed worried that I might get overheated. One young man came up and gave me a cold bottle of Gatorade. Then Manny, an older Asian-American man who I think manages the copy center in the same building as the AEI headquarters, came outside several times expressing concern that I was in the sun--that spot made me more visible to people walking along the street--and finally put his own hat on my head! He also gave me a cold bottle of water.

And now to tell you about people's reactions to my sign. Yes, there were a few openly negative reactions but only one that was mean-spirited (the moron comment). And I saw quite a few pursed lips and pinched noses as if they were smelling limburger cheese, but what surprised and delighted me were the dozens of postive responses expressed by passersby and even by people who had attended the AEI presentations. I received more "thank-you's" than you could imagine, lots of thumbs-up, and even a round of applause from an older man who was walking by. And lots of people took my leaflets!

Now I am one tired puppy who just wants to lay her head down on the pillow and dream of my PBase sisters and brothers who are here with me in this work for peace. Tomorrow is another day and I want to be nice and rested before I take my message up to Capitol Hill, 'cause that's where I'm off to in the morning. See you out on the streets. . .

I've added 19 more photos to my Iranian Peace Vigil photo gallery. Click here to see them.

Sunday, 09-SEP-2007

Well, I arrived in Washington, DC after ten and a half uneventful hours on the road. After checking in at the hotel and parking my minivan in a garage, I scooted right over the White House to take this picture. The U.S. Park Police didn't miss a beat and asked me the usual questions, ie., ?Do you have identification? Do you have a permit? How long are you going to be here?" I know enough to answer, 'I don't need ID, nor do I need a permit. And today I'm just going to be here long enough to take this picture." After I'd taken four shots, a different police officer came up and said, "You're not allowed to prop your sign up against the fence." So I thanked him and scooted away. A man with an American accent passed me at that point and said, "Why not?" referring to the words on my sign, "Don't bomb Iran." Oh yes, this is going to be a most interesting week.

But later I was encouraged to meet younger people who not only understood my message but agreed with it wholeheartedly. First it was Harrison and Jenae, both seniors at Howard University here in DC, who stopped to talk to me as I was printing out a new message for side #2 of my sign. I was using a table in the outdoor courtyard of the Ronald Reagan Building and International Trade Center--which I thought was very appropriate!!--and ended up spending about three hours at my task. For about twenty minutes of that time, Harrison and I had an indepth discussion about world events and how/where to find the REAL news instead of what passes for news by our American mainstream media.

After I'd finished printing out the words for Side #2, I asked a table of three young men--who it turned out now live in the U.S. but are originally from Peru--for help taping my new sign to the back of the old one. Luis and Alfredo immediately said "Yes" and Luis did a fine job of putting the finishing touches on my sign. They both expressed gratitude and support for my vigil.

I'll be keeping up this photo-a-day blog with daily entries telling of my adventures here in DC, but I've put up another gallery--"Photos from my Iranian peace vigil"- in which I'll post the photos I take every day. It already has ten photos and you can click here to see them.

Friday, September 7


Tomorrow (Saturday) I will get in my wheelchair-accessible van and head southeast towards Washington, DC. This 500 mile/804.6 km trip takes me two days to drive by myself. For the next six days--from Sunday afternoon through Friday evening--I will mount a solitary vigil for peace in front of the White House and the U.S. Senate and House office buildings. All day Monday, September 10th, I will be on the sidewalk in front of the headquarters of the neoconservative think tank, the American Enterprise Institute, where they will be hosting two public presentations, one of which is called "The Iranian Time Bomb." My final day of demonstrating--Saturday, September 15th--will coincide with a massive anti-war march and rally in DC which I plan to attend. On Sunday I hope to get together with family and friends--I was born and raised in the Washington, DC area--and, all going well, I'll be back home in Detroit by Tuesday evening, September 18th.

As you see in the photo, the sign I will be holding all week says 'Don’t bomb Iran." It is illustrated with two photos from Ali Majdfar's beautiful PBase gallery, "Throughout IRAN." Ali and I have been in contact regarding my intention to mount this vigil, and he offered his photos for me to use in any way that might be helpful. As it turned out, he chose one and I chose the other. I am only sorry I had to crop his exquisite photo of the bridge in Isfahan in order to make it fit on my sign. But I know Ali will be OK with that. He and I are in this together. I will feel his presence beside me every minute of every day.

I will be unable to post a photo blog entry tomorrow (Saturday) but intend to post daily entries during my entire vigil. Please hold this small effort for peace in your hearts. May it help my government/s leaders wake up to the disaster they are contemplating. May all who see my sign stop and think before they support any attacks on Iran. But most importantly, may Ali and his countrymen and women be protected from harm.

(Picture from Patricia Lay-Dorsey, who is once again keeping vigil in Washington, D. C., to protest the possible aggression against yet another country. Follow her blog at www.windchimewalker.blogspot.com)

Like perfumed hands

They call it a snake
lifting its head.

Personally,
I prefer a flower.

Let it open slowly,
drifting up your spine
like perfumed hands
awakening
a sleeper.

Each moment
is pure,
like water from a clear well.
Each feeling
part of the blessing,
gift from the unseen.

What it tells you
is how you are loved,
how you must love in return,
how this love making
never ends.

Dorothy Walters
September 10, 2007

Yes, I know how it is
to go with uncertain feet,
a burden which grows
heavier
with each step.

I too have felt the silence
fall through thickening air,
dark currents to carry you
into foreboding channels.

Always, there is the turning,
light descending
into darkness,
the constant reversal
of the poles.

The other face of love.

Dorothy Walters
September 8, 2007

A Language You Once Knew

There will be an invitation.
It will not come tied in ribbons
nor a message streaming down
from the sky.

There will be no Roman candles
sizzling upward
nor brilliant colors
exploding overhead.

Instead there will be a soft
whisper
in your ear,
something in a language
you once knew
and are trying to learn again.

In order to hear it,
you will need to
put down all your packages,
stop everything you are doing
and stand very still
then wait . . . .
until something stirs inside.

Dorothy Walters
September 5, 2007

Breathing Light

This isn't the first time.

Being suffused
by unnameable love,
perfume from
an invisible rose.

I have long since
lost count,
given up trying
for useful definitions.

Description doesn't work
either.
The words are too small.

I am just glad
you came,
showed up again today.


Like Calls Carried

We two are plunging on the waves,
falling from the heights,
fumbling in darkness
in the deep desert caves.

Your call echoes through me
like cries carried
on a desert wind.

My guide
this lantern
burning in my soul.

My compass
the ley lines of spirit
which the birds know so well.

I do not think
I will ever find you.
But I will carry
you inside.


Rich Darkness

You cannot think him
nor capture him into a phrase.

You cannot hold him,
measure electricity
on a scale.

You cannot touch him,
mountain echo escaping.

You cannot see him,
the rich darkness of a deep pit.

Why do you claim his presence?
What is the name
of what you seek?

Dorothy Walters
September 4, 2004