Rain

The sound of rain takes me to a place of inner peace as it

Falls in sheets, slides down the roof and 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 me close to the ground.

Forest sounds are muted and muffled and

Light is  defused into grayness.

It is not a sad and depressing grayness,

But a soothing and peaceful shade,

Full of the necessity of remembered sorrows and joys.

I love a  rainy day that is soft and dark.  It begs me to stop, rest, and be mindful of my surroundings and loves.

It reminds me 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.

Curtis Field in Summer

Between the birdsong and morning sunlight,

Waves of grass sway in unison, while

The melody of life and light

Plays across Curtis field.

Heated mist rises from the grasses in currents of song

And murmurs in harmony with the breath of the encircling trees.

This field holds its life close,

An entire universe existing in the space of a blade of grass.

Life here teams in layers from dirt to dawn and

Root to crown.

This is a place of abundance, an abundance

Kept well hidden beneath layers of grass.

A place for contemplation and peace; one rich with the essence of life.

So please come and sit here with me again.

Get up close and watch,

Feel the warmth of life surrounding us.

Embrace its sweetness and

Hold the magic of this place in your soul forever.

And when your soul remembers, and the time is right, take my hands in yours and

Be with me once more.

Just you and me between the birdsong and morning sunlight.

 

 

3/18/16

 

Extraordinary

Be extraordinary in your ordinariness and

Marvel in the beauty of everyday blessings.

Notice how snow piles up in leeward corners of windows during a storm

And the rings raindrops make in puddles.

Admire the spirit of sunflower seeds sprouting in

October under the bird feeders.

Let the sparkling morning spider webs on

Summer grass fill your eyes with the freshness of love.

Feel the sweetness of warm, wet, baby kisses and

Hear the snap of clean linens on a spring morning clothesline.

Watch and listen for the ordinary ways God speaks to us

A million times a day and see …

Bees dancing on pebbles in the bird bath and

Crisp autumn leaves ringed with October morning frost.

Hear a Wood Thrush’s echoing, haunting song at dusk and

Watch clear glass jars and white porcelain bowls dry on the kitchen counter.

Notice frost fingers splayed across winter windows and

Soak in steaming soup on a cold December day.

Marvel how sun sparkles on freshly fallen snow and

Baby sighs in the night.

Drink in the light in your lover’s eyes and

Savor his sweet kisses at midnight.

Smile at the tea balls ringing like temple bells in the silverware drawer and

A ring of stainless steal measuring spoons in a baby’s fist.

All just ordinary things but extraordinary in their beauty and simplicity,

Just like you and me.

 

2/5/17

 

All Are One in Him

 

He exists in the space between
The particles of my being.
The internal space in my heart that holds his love
Is infinite.
I hear him in the silence and
Stillness of the Now.
I feel him in the pause between
My in and out breath.
His smile lights my dreams
As his hands take mine and lead me to a place of love and peace.
His life force powers every cell in my body. I know it is so as
I feel it traveling in waves through me with each breath I take.
He speaks to me and holds my heart in the stillness of the night
And brings hope for the new day with each morning’s light.
He has absorbed my fears, anger and sorrow into
His very being and holds them dear for me and from me.
I no longer have to dwell in the past or
Speculate about the future as all are one in Him.
My gratitude is all encompassing
And my love for him limitless.
He is my Lord.
Hari Krishna

 

 

 

Always Broken

There comes a time for change,

A leave it all behind kind of change,

A back-lit stage leaving of sorts.

An abandoning of soul, but

With a reservation in eternity.

Only the collective experience of two remains in

A lost place, a place hidden in time.

Where The ticking has stopped, daylight has faded to black,

Pictures have come and gone and

All is left behind, but never forgotten.

So the story continues.  The players change but in the background, heart and hurt remain the same.

Same feelings in different colors, awash with love,

But always broken.

 

The Right Choice

The well is dry,

My heart is empty,

The cycle is complete.

Nothing left to do but begin again and fill the well,

Stoke the fires of my soul, and

Let its smoke rise and season my heart.

My heart is well seasoned as this is not its first round.

Time and time again it has been smoked with sorrow.

So, it will either become soft and sweet from the fragrant wood chips

Or hard and tough from the endless heat.

The choice is mine, but am I strong enough to make the right choice?

Only time will tell…

Beautiful Now

 

I am getting older; the days seem shorter,

But more beautiful with each passing year.

 

I am filled with gratitude as my time here draws nearer to the end

and I am able to take the time I need to look around and really see and appreciate this life.

 

Who knew it would all go by so quickly…

 

I want to spend the rest of my time loving and living every moment to the fullest

In truth and joy.

 

And with truth comes power.  Power to see things as they really are.

Power to be who I really am, finally.

 

My growing love and appreciation of life accentuates the beauty in the ordinary

Making everything extraordinary in its own way.

 

I now see clearly the beauty and magic in the color of sweet potatoes, a robin’s spring song at dawn, spring peepers serenading each other,

 

The smell of freshly mown hay, the light in a baby’s eyes, and

The sound of my lover’s heart beat in my soul.

 

There is a smoothness and subtle grace in every action I take, not because I bring it, but because it already exists everywhere if you just take the time to see it.

 

I have no more room for lies and no time to waste.

There is only now and now,

 

Beautiful now.

Again and Again

My life is contained in a shoe-box beneath my bed,

 

At the bottom of a green glass vase of pennies, or maybe

 

In the prayer flags hung over my mirror holding the cut-out owl Karen made for me.

 

My soul is contained and content in a mildewed pod growing in the land of wind and chi.

 

My future and hopes lie waiting in my pendant box, waiting for my questions with answers I may not want to hear and

 

My love, where is that?  In my heart or his? Love and lust are confused and linger in the scent of him on my heart.

 

My future is no more concrete then a speck of dust illuminated by the sun’s rays peaking through my lace curtains.

 

And death, what of that?

 

When it comes I will seal it and I in an empty bottle and set us adrift on an ocean of eternal possibilities and

 

Where the tide will take us is where we will stay and begin again, and again, and again…

A Beautiful but Bumpy Ride

Wisdom leeches out of melting snow banks and

Star light travels from the ground up as

moonlight seeps though the pores of the earth and floods the sky with peace.

Come, sit by my side in the forest at midnight and

Feel the earth’s truth in her being.

Be still and let your soul be free.

Then hold me tightly as it is a beautiful but bumpy ride!