June’s warm daylight comes
My thoughts of him linger on
June’s nights are lonely
Category: seasons
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.
Haiku
Sweet springtime sunshine
Forest erupts with new life
Winter’s sorrow done
Other Things Die Harder
I like to think that it is settling down now, fading away, but maybe not.
It is done and yet…
Some things die hard, and
Other things die harder.
The light has gone out so
There is nothing more to see,
Nothing to look forward to, nothing and no one to hold and
Although the disconnect is intentional,
The physical reality has not changed, it has
Not gone away because, after all, I still remain.
My perception of the circumstances has shifted, slightly.
It is based more on the truth now but the intentional disconnect remains the reality.
Is it the same for the other? I think not.
He has no reason and no meaning to his thinking as it is all based on deception.
He deceived me
And himself and
A life based on lies can hold
No meaning.
Some things die hard, and
Other things die harder.
Winter Loneliness
Stars swirl in a midnight sky and
The forest tiptoes through darkness,
Aware only of itself.
The owls have come back.
Owl voices in chorus give life to the darkness and
A fox barks back in welcome,
His winter loneliness forgotten.
A Glimpse of Joy
Wednesday morning musings,
A kaleidoscope of emotions and thoughts.
They flood in like sunlight
Through the clouds,
A glimpse of the crystal blue beyond the gray,
Fleeting but beautiful.
My desire to hold onto that spark, that glimpse of joy,
Is my downfall.
It is not meant to be held,
Not meant to be captured.
To hold it close would be to smother it and
Deplete its joy.
Instead I need to learn to move with it, become part of it
Not as an observer but as a participant,
Only then will I feel the joy inside
Where it was meant to reside.
Hallelujah
Curtis Field In Summer
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
In or Out of Time
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
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.
A Part of His Plan
It is warm here now.
Just yesterday I could still feel the cold.
It retreated upward,
The sun melting the frost.
Mother Earth sending her warmth
To meet the sun’s, with me in the middle!
I hear the rain striking
The earth above me now,
Its sound no longer muffled
By the snow.
The water puddles around me in the spaces between the rocks and
Softens my shell with its spring freshness.
My soul is awakened and has been waiting for this moment,
Waiting for the conditions to be just right.
My softened shall cracks and
A single, tiny root pokes its little head out into the soil.
It stretches its very being into the darkness and
Finds water and nutrients to power my growth.
Slowly my stem emerges from this shell and pushes me ever so gently up and up
Around the rocks and worms,
Bending to avoid the obstacle’s, always holding me in love
While searching for the sun.
I have never seen the sun, but I know it is there.
It has spoken to me in my dark winter of dreams.
Its promise is finely fulfilled when, only by gargantuan efforts, my
Tiny stem has transported me to the surface of the soil.
My head breaks free and I feel the fresh spring breeze for the first time as
My stem lifts me up as an offering to the sun.
Through my soil bound journey, a miracle has taken place within me.
The work of God, done in darkness, is now revealed.
My seed splits open and my two magically made seed leaves open
Their fresh green faces to the sun.
Its brilliance is over whelming and
Its warmth and love unsurpassed.
I feel its strength soaking into even fiber of my being.
The sensation is incredible and I am full of life.
But the end of my journey is still a mystery to me.
What will I become? Only God knows …
He has built the blueprint into my soul
But he hasn’t given me the instructions.
I will grow in the awareness that I am aware.
My being will take in the sun and wind, the soil and water, and I will become that which God intended.
Whether his intentions be a sunflower or a string bean,
I will be happy and joyful at being a part of His plan and
I will rejoice in His goodness.
Hari Om
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