PatCat Elton spent the last twenty years as a working mother of four children, active in community and statewide land use politics in California, particularly as an outspoken leader on behalf of private property rights. Throughout the years, she applied her spirituality, wisdom and leadership in her family, church and community. Her world was shattered, however, when her three-year-old son was sexually assaulted. She founded and served as Chairman of Californians For Tougher Child Molestation Laws creating the first Molester I.D. hotline in the state. After her marriage ended, PatCat decided to return to school, and while there, she found her passion for writing was for more than just public policy. Her words became chocolate powder, so to speak, which, when mixed with the cold drink of experience and being stirred with her pen, became the sweet taste of wisdom and reflection. She still works in her community and enjoys her time as a mother, but now savors the moments of poetry writing as her wellspring, drawing upon wisdom and beauty of the life around her.
IRISH STRINGS
How effortlessly
you hold me by
the back of my
scrolled hand
So gently
your chin
rests upon
my shoulder
So tenderly
each ribbon
of your bow
smoothes the bend
in my arm, plucking
and lancing my veins,
so ingeniously, incisively,
so invisibly, you intermingle
my blood with your Irish lament
heard in the lands of Ulster.
Each caressing stroke,
draws within me compassion
Each sorrowful strand bridges
your homeland to my heart. My heart
surrenders to the cries of your people,
amplifying their power, their character
their strength, their laughter
their music still resonating
within me, Sinn Fein!
OF SAND AND BALANCE
With sparks of hope hidden
in azure blindness,
with memories that redden
saddened eyes surmising
broken mirrors and cloudy lenses ruminate horizon
As a wave topples Achille's
gnawing at understanding
As value of false beliefs
erode in the fluidity of remorse
uncertainty discovers an uncharted course
Of a rhythm of deep arms and bays
in pendulant swells
Of the weighing of reason one sways
measuring one's madness with tidal Eterne,
vacillation is vital and embraced by the learner
Between moments of splendor
and heartache fermenting
Between tearful surrender
and arm-crossed denial,
past and present converse, sand and sea reconcile
To grit of the coarse grain
unconquered though fallen
To taste not in vain
the cordial in tearful brine
The soul is humbled and wisdom refined
How the sea with such power
leaves the shore near deserted
How that same sea with treasure
buried truth deep in the sands
Balance restores at the shore where one lands.
LOVE AMONG THE TOXICS
Hand in hand we
stroll down an asphalt path
with airplanes buzzing overhead
and distant trains screeching halt,
trying to observe what little there is in silence,
trying to muffle the ramblings-
This bird type, That industrial use,
This rail line now That park trail. . .
Listening to the silent weeping of the
wildflower wasted in aggregate base.
Marching along in lockstep we
parade past dog strollers with plastic wrap,
hearing their canine chatter
of injuries, accidents and diseases,
while restraining freedom with a tightly held leash
with no space to skip, or run, or dance
Measuring the distance between us,
glancing at the distant concrete horizon
Take of the air we
breathe in the cool salt air,
respiring the only refuge,
tasting the anise, the chamomile
and honey-drenched flowers,
Even inhaling becomes laborious
by the sudden consuming kiss
Breaking free to find the peaceful shore
what rest can be found there?
Step by cautious step we
tip-toe on gravel paths to debris strewn shore
careful to avoid discarded cylinders of destruction
or rusted-open, once-sealed chemical drums,
careful not to be contaminated by love
among this toxic shore
Seeking only to catch a glimpse
at what the lone fisherman reels in. . .
Vision is blocked by wall of companion,
who kisses not in the rhythm of the waves,
nor allows the sea breeze to dance with lips,
But clings to the hope of being taught
by one whom clings to the hope of what is not--
Not a kiss without sea breezes
Not a hug without freedom
Not a taste without savor
Not a soul without contamination
CATHEDRAL
sunset squintessence
gold eyelashes glisten
effervescent waters shimmer
teardrops to puddles
to ponds to waterfalls
to rivers to oceans
to horizons
Moist cool mountain mist on my skin
facing my shadow warmed back to the sun
I am the in the from the beside the embraced by the
fountain around me within me through me
I am absorbed in sensation Soaking it all in
knowledge, wisdom wonder
Spirit-chasing for inspiration
grace, purpose, and prayers answered
I am by the well like the woman, like Moses
still,
serene, silent,
surrounded
surrendered
Each incessant,
sanctified whisper
of water, breeze-dancing
wherefore I confess
am cleansed, comforted, and caressed
by Creation's absolving kisses,
Renewing,
refreshing,
reviving,
revering,
releasing the Spirit.
(Inspired by Woodminster Cathedral, Oakland Hills, CA)
IMPERMEABLE
There among the solemn ancient towers,
rests the Redwood Virgin, just like Lot's wife-
a sallowed monument in craggy stone.
So lovely she once stood in her courtyard-
Majestic Queen once crowned by the heavens.
The seething earth erupted around her;
Her once comfortable woods languishing.
No way to leave, her life deeply rooted,
She held on to false hope, a fatal mistake.
Paralyzed by her own entrenchment she
looked back in regret, a moment too long;
no escape; indecision; her molten demise.
With Wisdom's eyes, I touched the cold truth,
I have wept tears for her wasted years,
and followed each drop of rain falling down,
tracing each trail of pain with my fingers-
along hardened ridges, each fractured scar,
each ring of regret repeats the lament.
Wisdom pervades the impermeable.
each trickle cleansing the essence of pain,
meticulously sowing seed and soil-
Youth sprouting inside the marbelized rock-
delicate fern and sweet, fragrant laurel,
the sculptured manzanita, the wise oak.
Through tears and truthful sorrow hope reborn
in clearer and crystallized perfection;
in the glorious dawn--Wisdom blesses.
Revealing to those who seek Her lesson,
Wisdom's invisible, transforming tears
permeate even the petrified stone.