Category: spirit

A Robin Sings at Dawn

On By MiCoIn changes, courage, dreams, earth, faith, god, hope, Joy, light, love, love poetry, nature, peace, poetry, poetry changes, seasons, spirit, sweetness, thanks3 Comments

 

A robin sings at dawn and

The day breaks on a new world.

 

A world different from the one

The sun set on yesterday.

 

It is the same earth but

A new world.

 

My world is not the same as yours and

Your world can never be the same as mine as I am not you.

 

Our eyes work in the same way, yet

See everything differently.

 

A million souls have been lost since yesterday, but

A million more were born.

 

We are not alone or the same…

 

Watch the progression of the wind through the trees.

Notice how each tree moves to its own song and in its own world.

 

As do we…

 

Do you feel the same breeze that moves the trees?

Do you know and hear their songs?

 

They hear mine…

 

Today, even my heart is different than yesterday’s,

Is yours?

 

In the night my dreams change me and

I wake up in a new world.

 

It happens every morning,

But it’s never the same.

 

The world’s consistency is but an illusion.

 

The ferns leaning against my porch screens are a little taller than they were before.

 

Overnight, more geranium buds have opened and

The garden has drunk up all the water I gave to it yesterday.

 

Everything has changed

Yet appears the same.

The illusion is well practiced and convincing,

 

Or is it?

 

After all, the Robin never fails to sing at dawn.

 

 

Rain

On By MiCoIn earth, faith, hope, Joy, light, love, love lost, love poetry, nature, peace, poetry, sadness, seasons, spirit, sweetness, thanks, Zen4 Comments

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.

Extraordinary

On By MiCoIn changes, faith, family, hope, Joy, light, love, love poetry, nature, peace, poetry, spirit, thanks5 Comments

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

On By MiCoIn faith, hope, Joy, light, love, love poetry, peace, poetry, spirit, sweetnessLeave a comment

 

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

 

 

 

Ever Changing

On By MiCoIn changes, earth, nature, poetry, seasons, spirit3 Comments

December snow still remains,

Its essence uncovered by the spring melt.

A leftover from the beginning of the season,

It holds on, clutching the earth with icy fingers.

What was a soft powdery snow is now compressed with the weight of winter

Into hard, cold, sharp ice crystals.

Wanting to melt, it looks forward to returning to the earth to begin the cycle again.

It won’t be gone long as it will be back as summer rain and autumn frost.

Ever changing yet always remaining the same.

 

Again and Again

On By MiCoIn changes, courage, Death, dreams, earth, faith, fear, god, hope, Joy, light, love, love poetry, Man, nature, peace, poetry, seasons, spirit5 Comments

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…

Silent April Snow

On By MiCoIn changes, courage, earth, faith, hope, light, love, love poetry, nature, peace, poetry, poetry changes, sadness, seasons, spirit, Writing2 Comments

The early spring silent snow

Fits my mood.

It is a white dusting of truth

Accentuating every little branch and twig,

Making every little lie all the more obvious.

The silence into which the April snow is falling

Seeps through my eyes and into my heart

As if to smother and quiet its

Telltale beats.

It comes as blessing and a curse by

Prolonging the inevitable with maybe that one last chance.

But I know the sun will come out and

It will all be just a memory …

Once again.

A Play of Stillness (2/24/17)

On By MiCoIn Buddhism Meditation space, changes, courage, darkness, dreams, hope, light, love, nature, poetry, spirit, thanks2 Comments

I sit on the stage.

Darkness surrounds me.

The audience, if there is one,

Is silent.

There are no props on the stage

Only layers of black curtains.

Although I don’t remember auditioning for a play,

Here I am.

It’s odd that there is no music or

Other players.

So I sit in my darkness for what seems like forever

But there is still no sound, no movement, no life.

Just stillness and a mild sense of confusion.

I feel the space in front of me more than see it.

I sense it is there, curtains in a circular shape

A boundary perhaps but between what and where?

The other side is unknown and unknowable

Until the show begins.

But will it begin?  Still there is no script or other players,

No music or lights.

I run my hand through my hair to prove to myself that

I am still real in this sensory deprived place.

But what is real about an empty stage, a wordless play,

A playerless story?

I begin to realize that

None of those things matter.

All is stillness and non-duality.

The “show” never begins and never ends.

The circular curtain and empty stage contain eternity

And this space is an empty place within me.

There will be no play, no script,

No lights, no audience.

This story is mine, the darkness my stillness,

The only witness, me.

Just me as part of the universal consciousness

Acting out a play of well-rehearsed lines without ever saying a word.

Each player a part of the whole

Never separate from the others.

All joined in the cosmic drama

Of existence.

The curtain rises on one story, one actor, one consciousness

In an act that never ends.