Strings in knots, like garden twine
Link us all together, one to the Other.
The Other what? The Other how?
All are linked, the strings of knots binding us all together,
There is no Other.
Freedom?
In 4.5 months I will retire, it is a time to keep and mark.
The days numbered waiting for freedom but really, will it be such a change?
Now has its own freedom and always has and
I have the freedom to be here now.
The now holds nothing but is everything.
This space, this elegant space is here with me now. Always is and always has been.
But in 4.5 months I will breathe a sigh of relief anyway as my perceived waiting for time will have ended and time will fill my time and I its.
It is telling me to put away the other stuff and come and be part of it with my whole self. It is not something I will do for the I of the surface but for the I of my true being.
I need to be able to participate fully in the now, in the glory of being, with all of my being.
Will it be easier in 4.5 months? I don’t know.
Probably not, unless I chose it to be. Waiting for things never makes them so.
For everything happens in the now, there is no past to look back on, no future to look ahead to
It is always only now… So I guess I should stop waiting for the time to pass, it doesn’t,
There is but One moment fading into now, into now, into now…
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.
The Glory of Love
Don’t stop letting the ordinary
Amaze you.
Savor the taste of an apple.
Drink in the sound and sight of a waterfall.
Marvel at the cycle of the seasons and
Rest in their dependability.
Look for confirmation of the miracle of life in
Each and every second of being.
Become one with all that is sacred and holy and
Be astounded at the face of a flower, a new born baby, a summer thunderstorm.
Feel the positive energy and vibration of the universe
That holds you in its arms.
And sleep in the peace of knowing
That morning will always follow the darkness of night.
Enjoy this life you have been blessed with.
To suffer is your choice and yours alone to make.
Move away from the negative.
Reject the downward pull of the unknowing and let your positive light shine.
Share in the bounty of life and choose your own path.
No one can make these choices for you.
Add your positive energy to the world wide awakening,
bask in the glory of love,
And the ordinary will never cease to amaze you.
Illusion
Light, moving at a speed certain, or at all, is an odd concept. It travels into what and from where?
What is in front of it and what is behind? Does it leave a trail or just disappear as it goes?
When I see a star, I see it as it was light-years ago,
A fact that adds to the illusion of everything.
We, you and me, are so close our light reflection is instant, but what if it wasn’t?
What if it slowed down? What if it took more time for my eyes to see yours?
If sound traveled faster than light, then I would hear you
Before I saw you, before I saw the look in your eyes, and maybe the meaning of your words.
Light moves at a constant speed but can be bent by the pull of gravity.
Is my gravity enough to pull your light off course, to lure you in, to change your path?
If light slowed down would you feel my touch before you saw my hand? And if so, would it matter?
Maybe God travels faster than light, maybe that is why we feel his presence and touch long, long before we can see him, maybe it’s all just a matter of spacetime and not our lack after all.
And at what speed do thoughts travel?
They possess no mass so can they travel faster than light? Can you feel my thoughts before
You see the look in my eyes?
I can feel your touch before I see you. I can smell the scent of your skin before I touch you. Thoughts form my reality of you before you walk in the door.
Your soul-thought and touch travel faster than either light or sound into my heart where they remain even after you have left me behind.
The space we occupy for this human existence is basically an illusion.
A beautiful, magnificent illusion, dependent more on our thoughts and feelings than on the laws of matter and space.
An illusion of God’s making with our permission and participation. I believe that light and love at their very core travel at the same speed, they travel
From my heart to yours and everywhere and everyone in-between – instantly. A concentric circle of waves, emanating from the One, fanning out to the ends of time, through and around us all. A time for all time, a time of love and light for all eternity.
Our place in this physical universe is in a perpetual state of flux and illusion,
But the love and peace, light and grace we feel in the arms of God that underlies all of creation
Are not.
Wind
Stunted trees
Bend and cower from the wind.
Its howling is incessant.
Its winter cold all pervasive.
The mountain side Bearberry brambles
Grip tightly to the glacier scarred rocks for safety as the wind
flows in rivers of current
From the White Mountains to the sea.
It feels its way with outstretched arms
Sold and real, over a
Path that is well worn and familiar into the valleys
And river beds along the way.
The power of the wind pushes the sound of thunder ahead of it
And carries the storm clouds on its back.
It washes over the landscape
In partnership with the trees.
A force that can move them to dance,
Shake them to their roots, and love them with its allover touch.
But mountains and trees diminish the wind.
They sap its strength with their reluctance to let it go.
They want to hold on, to experience its freedom and lightness
They yearn for a chance to throw off their earthly chains and soar above the land.
But in the end, at the last, the sea remains the master.
The wind has no choice but to rush into its arms, to be consumed by the waves,
To become one with the spray, white with its foam
And downed in the crashing of the waves on the shore.
It Is All I Have
I need to write.
I need to say what I feel.
But I’m afraid,
Afraid of my pen, of my words.
Afraid I will not be able to stop.
Afraid that they will take over my being and
Bring out all my hidden truths and fears,
Even the ones I’m not aware of and I will have nowhere left to hide.
It will be a flood of words,
A torrent of emotions.
Some familiar in their pain, and
Others new in their hope.
Can I be brave and strong enough to hold onto my belief in love
In spite of all those truths and fears?
The wind-chimes on my porch say yes,
The trees, in their silent way, nod in agreement
And in hope the earth turns ever towards the sun
Always believing in and following its light and love.
So I must be brave and follow the earth’s example and
Turn to the Son too with faith and hope and
Never stop believing in love for in this moment, this now,
It is all I have and nothing else matters.
Watching and Waiting
The sky hovers over us,
Watching…
The trees stand where they grow,
Waiting…
And birds fly by wondering
Why…
But we pay no attention to them; we don’t even see them anymore.
Mindlessly, our roadways creep farther and farther into the wilderness,
Our houses spring up like mushrooms in the fall… seemingly overnight, as
Again and again we push all that is not of our making out of our way until,
The trees fall where they grow,
The sky hangs its head in sorrow and
The birds stop wondering
And just say goodbye.
Sunrise Lover
Sunrise lover from
Soft, warm darkness.
Light filters in at sunrise and
Rises from the floor and spreads to the ceiling.
As the room brightens, his form slowing comes into being,
Emerging from the rumpled pile of bedclothes.
Smooth, soft, dark and lovely.
I lie with him, my face resting against his.
In the half light I can just make out
His eyelashes, resting on his smooth cheek.
His noble nose is outlined by the
Light creeping in through the window.
His lips are beautiful and full,
Soft and sweet.
As the room continues to lighten,
His breathing quickens and his body stretches.
I move back just a bit
To take in his whole being.
He is strong, lean and beautiful
All I could ever want or need.
His eyes flutter open and his smile,
At seeing my face so close to his,
Is so beautiful and welcoming
As if to say he missed me while he slept.
4/3/15
Believe
My willingness to believe, when all logic says not to
Comes from within.
It is not dependent on facts or figures,
Or other peoples’ opinions.
It comes from a place deep inside me,
A knowing in my soul.
To believe is a conscious choice. Sometimes the wrong choice but
Life holds no guarantees, and therein lies the risk.
It is a risk requiring a leap of faith and not for the weak of heart,
But well worth taking as the rewards of a lifetime of faith and belief, in spite of the odds,
Is a lifetime of loving for love’s sake,
Without judgments, boundaries, or resentments.
So take the chance, make the leap
Believe with all your heart, love with all your soul
And leave the doubts behind.
Love is always worth the risk.
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