Small Things

“The Great arises out of small things that are honored and cared for” Eckhart Tolle, A New Earth

 

Such wisdom in so few words.

But what is the Great if not a compilation of the small.

 

Nothing is too small to be part of the One.

The Great unmainfested, is manifest in everything, including the small, especially the small.

 

It is through the ordinary manifestation of the One that it’s true

Heart and meaning is able to shine through.

 

Honor all “things” as part of the Creator

Made touchable, reachable, and real.

 

Ceremonies and traditions, ways of honoring the small things, act

As symbols and representations of caring for the One all-pervasive energy, the Creator.

 

Everywhere I look I see evidence of this truth.

When I open my eyes each morning, I acknowledge and honor the new day’s creation.

 

A new beginning with each sunrise, with each chime of the cuckoo clock,

As the new born light angles across my bed and bedroom walls.

 

My breakfast food of sweet potatoes and spinach

Lies in splendor on the golden yellow dish.

 

The lightly colored beautiful orange sweet potatoes shine

In stark contrast to the dark green warmth of the spinach.

 

They are contrasts in wholeness, beautiful small things to be honored and appreciated.

As is the tea steaming in my tea mug which shares the mug’s space and honors its useful emptiness, tea honoring mug honoring tea.

 

The shower water’s warmth and the soap’s scent of softness and peace

Honor my body and I honor their usefulness and dedication to service without selfishness.

 

And with each step and in each and every place I go throughout the day,

I try to take the time, maybe only a second or two, to notice and honor the small things.

 

After all, I am a small thing too.

 

Early Morning Silence

This piece is a reflection of my time spent at many silent meditation retreats at the Aryaloka Buddhist Center in New Market, New Hampshire.

 

As I await the morning meditation bell,

A flood of emotion and excitement fills my heart and soul.

The potential for connection is just ahead,

In each moment the possibility for fulfillment.

Hours feel like minutes in the predawn darkness and

Dark 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 shrine room stairs as each takes their place on rows of blue cushions.

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 only by a creaking floor and the shuffles of re- positioning bodies.

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

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

And when the days of sitting in silence come to an end, we will each move back into Our individual lives richer for the people we have met and

The fullness of the silence we have shared.

 

Star Soul

Star shine drips from the night sky and runs along the naked winter tree branches like syrup

Leaving iridescent trails of silver to wrap around the rough barked trunks.

The sliver shine lights my way

As it spills star souls on the forest floor and

While I follow the star trails, eons pass in an instant and eternity sleeps

In the soft warm glow of acceptance and starlight.

The cold surrounds my soul and heart in these winter depths but the

Dense air adds clarity to my vision as I walk the trails of stars.

They take me to a different place, a place at once new and ancient,

A place to observe all in silence while cloaked in the winter wood.

I see mosses hold their breath in the glow of the star-flow and hear them whispering their secrets to a silent waiting cosmos while holding tightly to the trunks of the trees.

Late geese fly across the moon, their cries urgent in the night sky

Confused by the uncommon shimmering silver ground below.

I am not alone in this realm of silver winter as

The forest is full of the souls and spirits of summer’s love.

I feel them all around me, darting in and out of tree shadows,

Stopping to watch me from behind drifts of truth and light.

The discarded autumn leaves warm the soil beneath the drifts

And life waits in patient stillness.

My mind becomes as still as the waiting life as I travel the empty space between the stars reflected in the snow’s white depth.

There is no urgency in me or in this place

Only the beauty and silence of peace and star light.

The winter forest is a secret,

A complete world in and of itself hiding in plain sight.

Its silence a decoy to protect its love lying safe and secure underground.

Go to the forest; breathe in the silent dripping starshine,

Follow the starlight as it traces the outline your soul.

Blend with the magic of the forest as

It is only there under the canopy of eternity that you can become as silent and still

As the dense crisp air surrounding you and once again, as in the beginning,

Go home to that place within that holds you in the soft silver glow of now and

Within that silent place returns you to wholeness.

The soul of the winter forest knows and understands you.

She is waiting for your return.

Unnoticed

There is magic in this night.

Brilliance in its darkness and darkness in its light.

Tonight, my soul is deep in the arms of midnight,

Too deep to see,

Too blind to know,

Its cries too silent to be heard.

I am astounded by the simplicity of this midnight,

But also shocked by its truth.

Too much time has passed with too little thought and

Now… what of now? 

It is gone.

Forever to remain,

Unnoticed.

Darkness

The stillness of the night air

Hangs heavy outside my window.

Its darkness threatens to come in,

But my reading light keeps it at bay, and

Although the light is bright, drips of silent night

Sneak in around the edges of my window sill

And puddle on the floor by the curtain hem

To remind me of the darkness that lurks just outside

My window

And my heart.

Tea Mugs and Wine Glasses

Come, sit and sip with me again.

The tea will warm our hands, the wine our hearts.

Hold my hands across the table once more and

Watch and feel my eyes melt into yours.

I know your heart hears mine but you pull

Your sweater tight and muffle its cries for me.

Let it out, it only wants to share.

Don’t be afraid,

Your heart won’t leave you for me and mine

Won’t leave me for you, but

They will meet when

Our chests touch.

Their harmonic beauty will speak to us in peace and love and

Lull us into the sweetness of sleep

Among the tea mugs

And wine glasses.

10/24/15

Of Love and Light

Nostalgia weighs heavy on my heart tonight, 

And I long for what could have been.

 

But then I remember why it wasn’t but what makes me the most sad is that I also remember 

That it almost was.

 

So wanting and loving, I sit alone in this night of late winter cold as the music of piano and cello drifts through my head.

  The sound of the cello speaks to my soul and caresses my heart.

 

In the melody, I hear two hands playing together in perfect union and feel that

I am as one of those hands, looking for the familiar accompaniment of the other.

 

And so in the depths of this late winter evening I am lost in

Remembering what never was, feeling what didn’t exist,

 

Loving what could have been  

In this time of warm darkness, candle light and winter solitude.

 

Now there exists only a memory of he and I, together yet alone,

Forever wrapped in the spirit of love and light.

 

Just Look

I saw the stars last night,

Didn’t even have to get out of bed.

They were so bright in the cold, dense,winter air

That they shown right through my lacy bedroom curtains.

I saw it as a reminder of what is still there and always will be,

And to find it yet again,

We just have to look through the holes one more time.

February Morning

Monday morning winter sunshine warms my room and

James Taylor serenades me and my oatmeal.

There are frost etchings on the old warped glass windows that surround my space.

In the harsh light of day, my mind and heart step back to echos of last evenings secret loving,

Soft as the candle flames flickering on my night stand.

A lingering warmth traces his outline in my bed as his Cheshire cat smile is the last to leave, 

Only fading with the daylight.