Muse in the Morning

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Muse in the Morning

One who experiences the unity of life

sees one’s own Self in all beings,

and all beings in one’s own Self,

and looks on everything with an impartial eye.

–Bhagavad Gita, Chapter VI, verse 29

Phenomena XXXII:  adapting


Cellular Diversity


we form and transform

the words and thoughts

building an understanding

a commonality

cells aligning

and recombining

Not by becoming


but through sampling

our differences

does this creature

avoid being stillborn

–Robyn Elaine Serven

–June 20, 2008

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Good morning.  Be excellent to one another.


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    • Robyn on August 29, 2008 at 15:49

    …I seize upon school having started…and the only thing of note is a meeting from 2-4 yesterday, wherein those on my committee learned that we had been handpicked to be censors.

  1. And a long weekend ahead.

    Here’s a somewhat long and convoluted poem from Labor Day of 2003:

    Labor Day Reflections

    September 2003, mama nature is right on time,

    Oh she decided not to mess around this season!

    Cool enough to wear a jacket, well I don’t know

    If it’ll last the month, but what a preview!

    School time has arrived, kids weighed down like

    Mountain climbing mules with book stuffed backpacks.

    I remember autumn anticipation,

    What would happen this year,

    Who would be in my class?

    The orange and brown construction paper

    We’d use to make Fall decorations for Halloween,

    Thanksgiving, those weird Puritan tableaux

    Of buckled hats and shoes to show

    We knew American beginnings.

    Only later discovering those mad Puritans

    Had taken that crazy Mayflower voyage,

    Over the rough seas, with little provision,

    Hard times ahead, they fled Europe,

    Not welcome there with

    Their strict spiritual independence,

    No king or powerful bishop felt safe

    With these lunatics who denied the heavenly mandate

    Of rulership being given by God, said anyone could

    Lead religious services, didn’t need spiritual royalty

    Of the established church!

    Oh they had to leave, somehow got the fare to sail

    A ship to the New World, this small group of people

    With their stubborn and austere view of life.

    Somehow, even through their own humorless history,

    Hysterical witch hunting, beauty starved,

    Fanatical and terrible severity,

    They made their mark on us to this day,

    In the way we work, the goofy split personality

    Of our goody goody nationally espoused morality

    Bouncing endlessly on the trampoline

    Of the sexual revolution,

    Clashing With natural rhythm and beat

    Of imported African tribes

    Who survived worse persecutions,

    Terrible calamities, found their voice

    In music and dance,

    They also made their mark even to this day,

    The mixed up American psyche is stern and straight

    But who else can rock and roll like us?

    And just the other day I was at Macy’s and

    Saw the hottest new item on the shelves

    Were pilgrim shirts,

    black with white collars and cuffs.

    Oh autumn is here, and school will soon begin,

    We’ll mix it up for another generation,

    Add them to the pot and see what the new day brings.

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