Author: MiCo

I have a deep love of writing, especially poetry. I write from my heart and hope others will find some value in what I have to say.

Serendipity

On By MiCoIn changes, god, hope, light, love, nature, peace, poetry, spirit2 Comments

 

Serendipity – an intricate woven web of guidance.

Guidance offered – but unknown by the unconscious.

 

Open your eyes, partake of the details.

Notice the unnoticeable, take in that which is un-takeable.

 

Acknowledge the hidden gifts that surround you.

Be a willing participant in the story.

 

Let the unnoticed notice you.

Let the world share its beauty with you and share yours with it.

 

Let the story become yours as it was meant to and then,

Step out if it and watch!

 

It is waiting, now, now, now…

Are you willing?

Early Morning Silence (Noble Silence Retreat at Aryaloka Buddhist Center in Newmarket, New Hampshire)

On By MiCoIn Buddhism Meditation space, candles, light, love, poetry6 Comments

 

 

As I await the bell, a flood of emotion and

Excitement fills me.

 

The potential for connection is just ahead,

Each moment a possibility for fulfillment.

 

Hours feel like minutes in the predawn darkness and

Black widows look down on me like all knowing eyes.

 

Buddha’s face, illuminated by candle flame,

Comes to life, filling the room with his essence.

 

At 5:30, a procession of sleepy souls makes its way

Up the creaky stairs and each takes its place in rows of blue.

 

There are yawns from the now familiar faces and heads of tussled hair

As we each fade slowly into ourselves and become one in silence.

 

The next few hours are punctuated by a creaking floor, the shuffles of re- positioning bodies, and hungry pre-breakfast tummy growls.

 

We all appear to be different people on the outside but inside

Our humaneness enables us to share a singular mindset and a connected purpose.

 

When the sitting and silence is done, we will move back into our individual lives richer for the people we have met and the silence we have shared.

 

 

 

 

Curtis Field In Summer

On By MiCoIn earth, faith, growing, hope, light, love, love poetry, nature, peace, poetry, seasons, sweetness2 Comments

Birdsong and morning sunlight,

Waves of grass, swaying in unison.

The melody of life and light

Plays across the field.

Heated mist rises in currents of song

And murmurs in harmony.

The field holds its life close,

An entire universe in a blade of grass.

Life teams in layers from dirt to dawn,

Root to crown.

A place of abundance

Well hidden.

Come, sit with me,

Get up close and watch.

Feel the warmth,

Embrace the sweetness.

Hold the magic in your soul and my hands in yours and

Be, just be.

2/15

He Understood

On By MiCoIn darkness, dreams, faith, god, growing, hope, light, love, love poetry, poetry, spirit, thanks10 Comments

 

When I stopped talking to God,

He stopped talking to me.

 

When I stopped listening to him,

He stopped listening to me.

 

He is not spiteful,

Just  honest.

 

When I blamed him for my circumstances,

He shed a single tear in eternity and was sad for my choices.

 

When I was angry with him for a death,

He understood.

 

When I questioned his reason for my being, He sent inaudible words of encouragement into the lonely darkness of my soul, words only I could hear.

 

When I pulled my hand from his grasp, He stood back and quietly waited for my return with infinite patience.

 

And when my errant ways finally did lead me back to him,

He treated me as if I had never left.

The Promise of Eternity

On By MiCoIn earth, faith, god, growing, hope, love, love poetry, nature, peace, poetry, spirit, Uncategorized2 Comments

Peace in a baby’s smile,

Light inside the shell of an egg,

 

Hearts glowing in the blossom of a milkweed, and

The secrets of love revealed in the face of a flower.

 

The world bursts with proof of his love,

Of the strength in the gentleness of his hands on his creation.

 

He holds us lightly,

He holds us in consciousness and in return, how do we repay him?

 

By giving form to his love,

And light to his eyes.

 

It is a mutual dance of intimate feeling and love,

The creator for me and me for him.

 

We are one in the circle of light and grace,

One in the promise of eternity.

His Secrets

On By MiCoIn courage, dreams, earth, faith, hope, light, nature, poetry, Uncategorized10 Comments

 

The fox barks in the night.

He feels safe in the darkness.

 

He circles my house, slowly

Barking his questions at me.

 

He watches as I sit by the campfire in the yard.

I see his eyes at the edge of the wood lit by the flames, waiting, observing.

 

Does he have something to tell me?  Some great wisdom to impart to my so-called intelligent brain?

 

I know he holds all the answers but in his innocence

He assumes that I do.

 

He knows that all there is, is all he is.

It is only the falseness of my thinking that keeps us separate.

 

I envy him and his essence and ability to be completely in tune with all there  is.

But why does he watch me?

 

What could my presence here possibly give to him?

He needs nothing that I have.

 

So he continues barking his secrets at me and I continue to

Wait and long for that time when words and barks lose their separate meanings

 

And I finally understand and feel his secrets too.

The Soulscape of My Heart.

On By MiCoIn Buddhism Meditation space, courage, dreams, earth, faith, god, hope, light, love, love poetry, nature, poetry, spirit3 Comments

 

Outcrops of rock and

Lichen covered pinnacles of grandeur are

 

God’s favorite places,

Places where he lets us see,

 

Lets us in on the secret,

Lets us in on what makes him happy.

 

His eyes sculpted the mountains with a glance,

His hands scooped the valleys with ease giving light and dark a place to play.

 

His breath still powers the winds that sail and howl over the cliffs

And stir the hearts of human kind.

 

The mountains are God’s sacred place and

A place where I go to feel His power,

 

To be closer to heaven

To touch and feel His love.

 

He exists forever in the hard landscape of rock and

In the soft soulscape of my heart.

In or Out of Time

On By MiCoIn darkness, dreams, faith, god, hope, light, love, love lost, love poetry, nature, pain, peace, poetry, sadness, seasons, spirit, sweetness, Uncategorized, Zen1 Comment

 

Transient whispers in the night,

Loves softness is given in kisses.

 

Bodies connected by touch and heat,

Hearts untied in space and now.

 

Time stands still and holds us there with it and

Darkness and light exist together in our hearts and minds.

 

Our souls intermingle in beauty and

Sadness.

 

Sadness for the perceived separateness and beauty at the knowing

That there is no separateness in space or time.

 

I need to find you again, in or out of time.

I want to hold you, but where have you gone?

 

Will you wait for me there?

Do you exist in one other than God?

 

Do any of us?

The Soul of the Storm

On By MiCoIn Buddhism Meditation space, dreams, earth, god, growing, light, love poetry, nature, poetry, seasons, spirit, summer, sweetness, thunder, Uncategorized, Zen1 Comment

 

3:30 am February Thunder

 

What is it that speaks to me through thunder?

Why does it hold such fascination?

 

Why does it bring from and to me such joy?

It is just a sound, a physical reaction to the heat of lightening, a compression and release of air pressure, That is all it is, but is it? What more does it represent to me?

 

It is nature, it is God speaking to me, it awakens in me a sense of personal connection, me to God, me to nature’s voice, me to the divine Mother Earth.

 

Lighten is the spark, the bright flash of Satori,

But thunder is the voice, the depth of feeling, the depth of God’s soul in sound.

 

Thunder emanates from the extremeness and storminess of the soul.  It is the release of charge, not the lamenting of loss but a celebration of depth.

 

The sound echoes between the hills and shakes the ground.  It cracks and air and then rolls in waves of intensity lower and lower until its vibrations shake the very core of the earth and of my being.

 

It touches me in a very primal way, a way before time, a way before and above thought, a way that has no need for thought or time.

 

I feel as a tree must feel in a storm.  I picture how it must be in my head…

 

Standing in the night, warm summer air flowing through my branches, gentle purposful breezes stirring my leaves and off in the distance the brief brilliant flashes of lighting appear.  Their light, reflecting over the towering cloud tops,  announces the storms approach.  I know what this means and I await its arrival with mixed emotions.

 

The breezes start to stiffen, my braches and leaves are tossed and startled.  My trunk is strong but so is the wind and I am fearful.  As the storm approaches, the very darkness and emotion of the air is changed.  It becomes charged with anticipation, with expectations and apprehension.

 

The rain arrives first in wind carried drops, miles ahead of the storm.  My leaves dance to the rhythm of these gentle drops while waiting for the violence of the curtains of water that will accompany the storm.

 

As the storm gains ground and draws closer, I feel it rather than hear it.  It is a deep feeling that travels through the ground and vibrates and shakes my roots.

 

Then it begins to crackle overhead and toss my limbs like whispers of silk.  My leaves are turned upside-down by the wind and my storm facing bark is soaked by streams of rain.

 

The sky lowers and pressed heavily on my crown.  Forest creatures take refuge in the shelter of my branches where I hold them tight against the onslaught of power and turbulence from the storm.

 

The storm roils through my forest, soaking the soil and bringing energy and life to the earth.  Its violence is only its great need to communicate its passion for life, and then it begins to fade…

 

It moves off to the east, dragging its lightening with it.  The thunder fades quickly with distance rolling back into the silence from which it was born and the forest night resumes its rest as if nothing had happened.

 

 

As the storm passes I return to me and to my soft, warm, dry bed and dream of being a tree as the trees watch me though the open window.

 

They understand better than I do our connection, me to them, them to me and all of us to the soul of the storm.