Waves of white,
Dunes of snow.
A magical expanse
Of openness and light.
Wind swirls the
Snow in columns,
Leaving patterns of circles
In their wake.
The wind howls in eerie
Cries of loneliness and desperation.
All life is kept covered
Awaiting the sun,
Resting in the silence
And stillness of cold.
A ring of trees keeps watch
And defines the space.
I sit in the snow and sing.
My song resonates in the emptiness changing forever the space within.
This place fills me
And I am empty no more.
I sit, candlelight flickering
Through my eyelids.
The skylight reflects the candlelight back to me,
And the new moon back to the moon.
The night landscape is dark,
Cold and endless.
I am cold and endless as I rise above the candle.
The wind blows my hair and chills my bones.
My eyes scan the dark earth.
Fields lie in wait, trees sleep.
Hills role on to hills,
And night sky meets night wood.
My body and gaze rise above
The wood to the sky.
Dark joining dark,
Points of light joining points of light.
In the darkness there is no separation of earth and sky.
In my darkness there is no separation.
The flicker of candlelight
Through the skylight fades with distance.
The quiet and dark become who I am,
All encompassing, all inclusive, comforting
All dissolving into one.
Winter mornings,
Cold, gray skies
Weep snowflakes in
Drifts of white.
Tree branches are outlined with
Each twig and bud coated in white.
The evergreen’s frosted tips are decorations done by
The Creator’s loving hands.
Isn’t it wonderful how rain drops turn white when they freeze, nice touch God!
The Creator has a flair for external decorating!
Cardinals come to my birdfeeders in January
And perch in the nearby evergreens to eat their breakfast.
A perfect Christmas card picture
Naturally created in red, white and green.
Chickadees wear their little black caps all winter, eat their fill at the birdfeeders,
And gather in groups at the bottom of winter’s abandoned bird houses to keep warm.
Squirrels sit in my window boxes eating stolen bird seeds
And watch me through the window watching them.
Their little ears and eyes ever alert and twitching.
Danger could be lurking behind every snow back and tree trunk.
And while I sit, warm and safe inside by the woodstove, I think of how hard it must be to
Live as the wild creatures do, where your survival depends on your alertness.
But really, is that so difference from our lives? We would do well to take a lesson from the
Winter creatures, our survival as a species ultimately depends on our alertness as well.
So while the snowy silence fills our days, pay attention to the winter wilds, be alert to the
now and the lurking dangers behind the snow banks and tree trunks will disappear on their own.
Watch the squirrels, appreciate the beauty of the Cardinals and evergreens, embrace the cold,
Treasure the winter sky and white rain drops and be grateful for what there is and
Be, just Be.
“The Great arises out of small things that are honored and cared for” Eckhart Tolle A New Earth
Such wisdom in so few words.
But what is the Great if not a compilation of the small.
Nothing is too small to be part of the one,
The Great unmainfested, is manifested in everything, including the small, especially the small.
It is through the ordinary manifestation of the One that it’s true
Heart and meaning is able to shine through.
Honor all “things” as part of the creator
Made touchable, reachable, real.
Ceremonies and traditions, ways of honoring the small things, act
As symbols and representations of caring for the One, the One all pervasive energy, the Creator.
Everywhere I look I see evidence of that truth.
When I open my eyes each morning, I acknowledge and honor the new day.
A new beginning with each sunrise, with each chime of the cuckoo clock
As the fresh born light angles across my bed and bedroom walls.
My breakfast food of sweet potatoes and spinach
Lies in splendor on the golden yellow dish,
The lightly colored beautiful orange sweet potatoes shine
In stark contrast to the dark green warmth of the spinach.
They are contrasts in wholeness, beautiful small things to be honored and appreciated.
As is the tea steaming in my tea mug which shares the mug’s space and honors its useful emptiness, tea honoring mug honoring tea.
The shower water’s warmth and the soap’s scent of softness and peace
Honor my body and I honor their usefulness and dedication to service without selfishness.
And with each step and in each and every place I go throughout the day
I try to take the time, maybe only a second or two, to notice and honor the small things.
After all, I am a small thing too.
Star shine drips from the night sky and runs along the naked winter tree branches like syrup
Leaving iridescent trails of silver to wrap around the rough barked trunks.
The sliver shine lights my way
As it spills star souls on the forest floor and
While I follow the star trails, eons pass in an instant and eternity sleeps
In the soft warm glow of acceptance and starlight.
The cold surrounds my soul and heart in these winter depths and
Dense air adds clarity to my vision as I walk the trials of the stars.
These star trails take me to a different place, a place at once new and ancient,
A place to observe all in silence while cloaked in the winter wood.
I see mosses hold their breath in the glow of the star-flow and hear them whispering their secrets to a silent waiting cosmos while holding tightly to the trunks of the trees.
Late geese fly across the moon, their cries urgent in the night sky
Confused by the uncommon shimmering silver ground below.
I am not alone in this realm of silver winter as
The forest is full of the souls and spirits of summer’s love.
I feel them all around me, darting in and out of tree shadows,
Stopping to watch me from behind drifts of truth and light.
The discarded autumn leaves warm the soil beneath the drifts
And life waits in patient stillness.
My mind becomes as still as the waiting life as I travel the empty space between the stars reflected in snow’s white depth.
There is no urgency in me or in this place
Only the beauty and silence of peace and star light.
The winter forest is a secret,
A complete world in and of itself hiding in plain sight.
Its silence a decoy to protect its love lying safe and secure underground.
Go to the forest; breathe in the silent dripping starshine,
Follow the starlight as it traces the outline your soul.
Blend with the magic of the forest as
It is only there under the canopy of eternity that you can become as silent and still
As the dense crisp air surrounding you and once again, as in the beginning,
Go home to that place within that holds you in the soft silver glow of now and
Within that silent place returns you to wholeness.
The soul of the winter forest knows and understands you.
She waits for your return.
The essence of the winter forest
Is human and divine.
Its emptiness is overwhelming
In its fullness.
Its love is sweetened by sorrow
And its sorrow is purified by love.
Its silence is deafening
With voices muted by cold but
The trees are full of love and patience and can
Heal our hearts from hurt and loss if only we will ask.
Yet, most perceive only what they want to see and miss the beauty of the winter forest,
Lift the veil and see the truth,
Can’t you hear it calling?
Sad loneliness surrounds me, who will fill my heart
My soul, my body and how will I find him?
I am at home today, spending quite time alone
Watching the winter white fill the forest.
There is a pot of beef and barely soup
Simmering on the stove,
Skies waiting outside the door
And wine chilling in the snow.
This could be a wonderfully sensuous and
Loving day but instead it is tainted by loneliness.
I have no one to share it with,
The man I love and want isn’t who I thought he was,
He is not interested and so I sit at my desk alone
Thinking…
How will I find him again?
Will it be real this time?
I need him to hold me, come ski with me
Share a bowl of fabulous soup and
Sip my wine,
The sweet wine of love for two.
So the afternoon rolls on
The soup perfuming the air and Bach filling my soul with beautiful notes.
If only he would come to fill my heart,
Whoever he is…
The joy of simple solitude where
There is no risk to my heart, and no chance for destruction of my soul.
I can trust myself here,
I’d never do those things to me.
I love the solitude of evenings spent in front of the
Wood stove, reading and writing where there is
No one to answer to and
No one to betray me.
I am safe with just the beauty and silence of winter’s cold
And darkness for company.
I feel a silent peace from the holiday lights sparkling
In my windows and the feeling of
Love’s glow coming from
Within.
My peace is what I will make it to be,
Warm, safe, beautiful and right.
It is all I need for now,
This joy of simple solitude, however,
I am not fooled —
There is nothing simple about it.
Notes of soul,
Words of flesh,
The sound of time is
Love expressed.
Chants whisper to me
As their cords of light infuse my spirit.
The names of God swirl in silent eddies
And drain through the fibers of my heart
Where traces of love are
Caught and linger.
The universal love holds no space or time
It is all and nothing.
Come my love, hold my hand and
Sing with me the names of God in love and watch
Watch and be amazed as the magic unfolds again.
Swift summer snuck in,
Greening up from the edges, shading the forest floor.
It came complete with lovely summer evenings
Where warm breezes filled the night,
And a blanket of starts twinkled in the
Dark humid haze.
The August thunder filled my soul
With its power and its wildness renewed me.
My garden produced produce from the earth
Feeding my soul as richly as it fed my body.
This summer was a season of energy and rapid growth.
There was no time to waste, “bloom now, don’t be afraid” was its message.
But now, without warning, the days begin to shorten,
The afternoon shadows grow longer.
Late night mists form as the heart of summer
Makes its escape back to the sky from where it came.
The golden sunglow fades from my skin as it
Has from the fields.
A summer season of riotous beginnings looses its energy and
Fades into the arms of autumn.
As the seasons change, so must I.
I need to return to the safety and warmth of my home and
Gather my growings to feed my body as I gather my loves
To sustain my soul through the cold, dark time to come.
Autumn is the time to return to what was, to what came before
Summer’s brief and beautiful interruption.
Fearlessly and with a final burst of thanks in colors of red and gold,
The earth has gently shed its past with its leaves.
If only I could shed mine with such courage and beauty.
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