Good Enough

I can’t get to it all,

But its good enough.

I can accept that now.

The urgency for more is gone.

My time is well spent, and it is enough.

Less means more.

More time for each one,

Each bean, each tomato, each seed.

The rows welcome me to the garden

Each day filled with goodness and grace.

Jars, 6 at a time with more tomorrow, gleam on the kitchen counter.

I savor the moments of steaming pots and boiling beets.

Summer heart shared with fogged windows and pinging jar seals.

It is more than good enough.

Summer Sweet

Mist clings to the clover

And rolls as breath among the gardens.

On sultry summer mornings,

The air is perfumed with the essence of savory herbs and

Delights the senses of the trees.

Heavy air holds the flavor of flowers and

Slips in silence over webs woven between blades of grass in midnight’s darkness.

Hay fields stir, awakened by the morning’s sun warmed breezes and

Another summer day begins.

A Robin Sings at Dawn

 

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

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.

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.

The trees sway with agentle 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 am watching 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 as

A different cast of characters takes on the night shift.

An owl awakens and his hoots ec between the sleeping trees.

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.

I exist equally in both worlds but am not a participant in either and

Therein lies my sorrow.

I am only the watcher,

Always alone.

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

 

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

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

 

 

 

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.