My Honey Is Dancing

by RZ Balchowsky

Our kitchen is filled

with the scent of gardenias;

my honey is dancing and eating his pie..

Our senses are filled

and I know how he feels yes,

my honey is dancing;

he knows I know why...

The scent of sweet honey

flows up from the cup wells,

the scents of sweet honey and coffee and pie..

This day is beginning

with hummingbirds floating;

my honey is dancing;

he's hugging the sky...

Human Nature

There is a path, a beauty way;

to walk this path awakens our stay..

This is a way to live with Light,

with stars by day, the Sun at night..

A threshold shows the way within,

and crossing this our lives begin..

The archetypes live in all our deeds;

where kindness reigns sprout fertile seeds..

Amid the simple seeking sight,

the prayer to rise to do the right..

There is a sweet scent here of flowers,

a feeling of time, though not of hours..

And moving on, as Love's Light grows,

in human hearts Divine breath flows.. 

Are We?

Are we are we

are we where we

are we where

we want to be?

Are we are we

are we who we

are we who

we wish to be?

Do we know

we seek we sow?

Do we know

we love we grow?

We need to know

we seek we sow.

We need to know

we love we grow.

Will we still be

still be will we

will we when

we still be old?

Are we are we

are we where we

are we where

we need to be?

Are we are we

are we who we

are we who

we choose to be?

Toward The Relief Of Suffering

May you gracefully find an air pocket..

enter into a deep

relationship with it and

in becoming all that you are

may you be cushioned...

While learning all

you must learn

may you be cushioned...

May you be cushioned

by warm Light also

by a breeze rolling round you

carrying angel dust drifting

through your aura 

while being gently fanned

by the wings

which brought this radiance...

May you soon see

all this to be true and

may you

be cushioned... 

Shall We Go To The Moon On Vacation?

Shall we go to the Moon

on vacation?

We can stop off at Mars on the way..

We could help melting weapons,

pour the liquid out sparkling,

into stars and reflections

we'd say...

Shall we go to the Moon

on vacation?

We'd light fires on Venus each day..

We could help warming hearts up,

feel our own Souls uplifted;

we might dance

on the bright Milky Way...


Shall we go to the Moon on vacation?

What a view of the Sun on our way!

Shall we go to the Moon on vacation or,

to Demeter's place by the bay? 

Terracotta Madonna In Late July

...terracotta Madonna standing 

on Earth

amid black snake, sundial, cast iron tools..

enormous rocks, shells, crystals,


dried purple hydrangea, lively green ivy,

ferns, peacock feathers, orange nasturtium strands..

flower pots in so many colors full

of red begonia, of violet lobelia,

of nothing...

ten foot long green garden table

arched over, enfolded by,

huge juniper bush dripping 

wildly adventurous blue

blue morning glory vines..

warm, metaphor drenched visions

clouds drifting by


in late July...

About The Angle Of The Sun In Late September

there is always something

about the angle of the Sun

in late September moving

through plaited vines

through wildly loose bobbing seedheads

cosmos in their nearly tattered

elegantly orange grandeur

through curling zinnias in symbiotic profusion 

archways curving toward perfect harmony

tilted umbrellas meeting and leaning

with creative imaginations on

sturdy bush branches floating so easily

chiaroscuro mystery sun motion songs

of light, 

of life,

of warmth


about light and shadow

so balanced 

for days and days

such simultaneity

brightly illumined yet

daringly dim and darkened


together together

and I

I am called to pause

to pause at the wonder

called to pause

blindingly smitten

lovingly lured

something about the angle

of the Sun in late September always

tells me something

I always know

I need to know and so

I do pay attention

for that is what I have

I listen

I listen as I can  

to melodies of light

tonal shadows sounding

harmoniously brilliant

their blending always 


always beckoning 

toward lessons 

I must learn...

This Moment

..this moment

the wind has moved the leaves

two sparrows float forever

on motionless wings

over the flower bed

the rain-washed grass

stretches it's delicate silence

to the thunderous wall

and the song

which comes to me

from the eternal embryo of Infinity

is strong... 

A Personal Prayer

May we all soon know more

of our one common source

so that no more

will we be blind..

May our angles of vision become

as varied and clear

as the crystals which grow

in the caves:




confronting the darkness... 

Is Not In Time

The star-lit sea,

the sand, the hill,

the rock,the bee,

they linger still...

To linger thus

is not in time;

prey to no fuss,

and you are mine..

O, you are mine,

we've made our choice;

O, I am thine,

we do rejoice! 

         * * *

Since age 12, I (RZ Balchowsky), have willingly, intermittently, written poetry; Currently I am 68, and a grateful great-grandmother…

My unrelenting search in this incarnation, I now know, has been for Beauty, Truth, Goodness, and Love…

Countless roadside challenges have required, countless voluntary radical Soul transformations in service of my persistent pursuit of such goals… I have had profound help along the way..

Real life is truly big and absolutely, never boring…

My father was the great artist, poet, philosopher, and one-handed pianist, Eddie Balchowsky…He did not "raise" me, but he certainly raised me when he finally got the chance…

We strive on, yes?