Garden soil wakes
Seeds tumble in on their own
Growth waits for no one
Category: earth
A Valuable Part of Two
The heat of a summer day softens and slips silently
Into evening twilight.
The shifting shadows and cooling breezes of evening chill my being and
Bring an acute awareness of sorrow and emptiness to my state of mind.
This subtle, soft twilight is lonely and empty now
But was beautiful at other times and under other circumstances in my life.
Twilight holds tenderness and acceptance of love in times of loving but
When love is missing or withheld, twilight is punishing in its loneliness.
A solitary stroll through the garden is a waste;
There is no joy in relaxing in the rocking hammock alone.
Light sadly leaves the landscape and drains the world of color
Just as this lost love drains my soul and heart of color.
The trees along the edge of the clearing blend into a fortress wall,
Locking me out in my loneliness.
Fireflies blink on and off but evade my eyes behind the fortress of trees
and the stark cold moon light accentuates my solitude by throwing only one shadow behind me.
In better times, when I was not alone, the deepiening twilight was a magical time,
Full of love and acceptance.
We walked the garden paths together, basking in the glow of the moon
And soaking in the softness of star-shine.
Our shadows moved willingly behind us, hand in hand,
And fireflies lit our way home.
I want to go back to that time, back to being a valuable part of two,
Back to the times of softened days that faded into loving nights of passion and acceptance.
I need you take me back there, please…
Always Alone
I’m lying in a hammock,
Sideways,
Staring at the canopy of trees above my head.
Their branches interlaced like the fingers of lovers in an act of passion.
They sway with the gentle breeze,
Each variety with its distinct leaf waiving and dancing to its own tune.
Above and beyond the boughs lies a deep blue sky, dotted with plumes of soft whiteness
Each drifting and changing with every second, never the same from moment to moment.
I watch this scene as the sunlight slowly turns to dusk.
The sun-powered breezes fade and the forest yawns and folds in on itself and sleeps.
I should do the same
But the magic of the transformation of day into night fixes me to this spot.
All form is erased, sky and forest become one, stars twinkle above and fireflies twinkle below as reflections of one another like sky in water.
Buzzing insects sounds are silenced and
A different cast of characters takes over the night shift.
An owl awakens and his hooting echoes between the sleeping trees,
Others answer in kind.
I hear the fox’s footsteps through the dry leaves and
Goosebumps cover my neck at the sound of his bark.
Less vocal creatures slink and stalk through the forest night
Taking their turn at life.
And me, I don’t fit into either cast,
I exist equally in both worlds but am not a participant in either and
Therein lays my sorrow.
I am only a watcher and always alone.
Rain
The sound of rain takes me to a place of inner peace as the
Rain falls in sheets and slides down the roof over its edge in a curtain of water.
Tree leaves dance with the weight of the rain and
Flowers wash their faces in its freshness.
The sky is lower on rainy days and
Holds us close and grounded.
Sounds are muted and muffled and
Light is defused in grayness.
But it is not a sad and depressing grayness,
But a soothing and peaceful shade
Full of the necessity of sorrow.
A rainy day is soft and dark. It begs us to stop, rest and be mindful of our surrounds and loves.
It reminds us to take the time to be lulled by the patter of rain on the windows
Into a place of inner stillness,
And there remain, content to just be and accept what is.
I Must Wait
I have to wait, just wait,
There is nothing left to do.
Tonight is cold and dark,
I must wait for the sun.
My love is intense and passionate,
I must wait for its object.
My mind is confused and alone,
I must wait for a friend.
My heart aches and pines,
I must wait for a song.
My life is a series of waits,
But my soul is tired of waiting.
Time must slow down,
So I can catch up.
And when I do, all of the waiting will have been for nothing,
Because I will find that it is all already here.
The Other
Strings in knots, like garden twine
Link us all together, one to the Other.
The Other what? The Other how?
All are linked, the strings of knots binding us all together,
There is no Other.
After The Rain
The joy of a muddy puddle after a rain and
Spider webs stretched out on the grass waiting to dry.
Rain makes tree trunks darker on west facing sides with
Moss growing toward the north.
Forest fallen leaves flattened by winter’s snows awaken after the spring rain and
Crisp morning air envelopes the crystal blue sky of a new cloudless day.
Dawn brings a new world each and every morning, while
Night’s darkness hides the transformation from yesterday to today.
The world of this moment is a different world from yesterday’s,
From an hour ago, from a moment ago.
It all is in flux, all impermanent but dependable in its trustworthy impermanence and
Therein lays the joy of a muddy puddle after the rain.
The Glory of Love
Don’t stop letting the ordinary
Amaze you.
Savor the taste of an apple.
Drink in the sound and sight of a waterfall.
Marvel at the cycle of the seasons and
Rest in their dependability.
Look for confirmation of the miracle of life in
Each and every second of being.
Become one with all that is sacred and holy and
Be astounded at the face of a flower, a new born baby, a summer thunderstorm.
Feel the positive energy and vibration of the universe
That holds you in its arms.
And sleep in the peace of knowing
That morning will always follow the darkness of night.
Enjoy this life you have been blessed with.
To suffer is your choice and yours alone to make.
Move away from the negative.
Reject the downward pull of the unknowing and let your positive light shine.
Share in the bounty of life and choose your own path.
No one can make these choices for you.
Add your positive energy to the world wide awakening,
bask in the glory of love,
And the ordinary will never cease to amaze you.
Illusion
Light, moving at a speed certain, or at all, is an odd concept. It travels into what and from where?
What is in front of it and what is behind? Does it leave a trail or just disappear as it goes?
When I see a star, I see it as it was light-years ago,
A fact that adds to the illusion of everything.
We, you and me, are so close our light reflection is instant, but what if it wasn’t?
What if it slowed down? What if it took more time for my eyes to see yours?
If sound traveled faster than light, then I would hear you
Before I saw you, before I saw the look in your eyes, and maybe the meaning of your words.
Light moves at a constant speed but can be bent by the pull of gravity.
Is my gravity enough to pull your light off course, to lure you in, to change your path?
If light slowed down would you feel my touch before you saw my hand? And if so, would it matter?
Maybe God travels faster than light, maybe that is why we feel his presence and touch long, long before we can see him, maybe it’s all just a matter of spacetime and not our lack after all.
And at what speed do thoughts travel?
They possess no mass so can they travel faster than light? Can you feel my thoughts before
You see the look in my eyes?
I can feel your touch before I see you. I can smell the scent of your skin before I touch you. Thoughts form my reality of you before you walk in the door.
Your soul-thought and touch travel faster than either light or sound into my heart where they remain even after you have left me behind.
The space we occupy for this human existence is basically an illusion.
A beautiful, magnificent illusion, dependent more on our thoughts and feelings than on the laws of matter and space.
An illusion of God’s making with our permission and participation. I believe that light and love at their very core travel at the same speed, they travel
From my heart to yours and everywhere and everyone in-between – instantly. A concentric circle of waves, emanating from the One, fanning out to the ends of time, through and around us all. A time for all time, a time of love and light for all eternity.
Our place in this physical universe is in a perpetual state of flux and illusion,
But the love and peace, light and grace we feel in the arms of God that underlies all of creation
Are not.
Wind
Stunted trees
Bend and cower from the wind.
Its howling is incessant.
Its winter cold all pervasive.
The mountain side Bearberry brambles
Grip tightly to the glacier scarred rocks for safety as the wind
flows in rivers of current
From the White Mountains to the sea.
It feels its way with outstretched arms
Sold and real, over a
Path that is well worn and familiar into the valleys
And river beds along the way.
The power of the wind pushes the sound of thunder ahead of it
And carries the storm clouds on its back.
It washes over the landscape
In partnership with the trees.
A force that can move them to dance,
Shake them to their roots, and love them with its allover touch.
But mountains and trees diminish the wind.
They sap its strength with their reluctance to let it go.
They want to hold on, to experience its freedom and lightness
They yearn for a chance to throw off their earthly chains and soar above the land.
But in the end, at the last, the sea remains the master.
The wind has no choice but to rush into its arms, to be consumed by the waves,
To become one with the spray, white with its foam
And downed in the crashing of the waves on the shore.
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