Saturday, May 30, 2015
The Moment
Only when your consciousness is totally focused on the moment you are in can you receive whatever gift, lesson, or delight that moment has to offer.
~ Barbara De Angelis
~ Barbara De Angelis
~ Image by Muhammad Ridha
Friday, May 29, 2015
LOST
Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside
you Are not lost.
you Are not lost.
Wherever you are
is called Here,
is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you.
If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest know
Where you are. You must let it find you.
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you.
If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest know
Where you are. You must let it find you.
by David Wagoner
Wednesday, May 27, 2015
My Voice
my voice screamed,
but I wanted to pause-
to take a deep breath,
hold the unearthing space-
for a moment,
before it exploded-
I held my broken self,
within my outer voice-
shouts for healing,
in its aching-
but it is a feeling,
of groundless falling-
feeling unheard-
I came to this place,
repeatedly-
but oh dear one,
what screams and quakes-
what spills from you is not yours,
when at the end-
of that tattered thread dangling,
reach for peace to come-
take the tears that fall upon you,
in the dark and the light-
of who you are,
come as you are into tenderness,
what can be paused in a second-
as I try again and again,
to rise to the sky-
from the heaviness of,
what brings fear-
to its shouting,
I allow myself to embrace me-
quiet and quivering,
in my unsettling-
of life leaving me often helpless,
stepping onto new ground now-
I breathe and say,
you are the one-
who can bring it back,
to the holding of your soul-
in soothing silence,
so I come now-
holding compassion,
as my compass-
grace as my candle,
in my storm.
but I wanted to pause-
to take a deep breath,
hold the unearthing space-
for a moment,
before it exploded-
I held my broken self,
within my outer voice-
shouts for healing,
in its aching-
but it is a feeling,
of groundless falling-
feeling unheard-
I came to this place,
repeatedly-
but oh dear one,
what screams and quakes-
what spills from you is not yours,
when at the end-
of that tattered thread dangling,
reach for peace to come-
take the tears that fall upon you,
in the dark and the light-
of who you are,
come as you are into tenderness,
what can be paused in a second-
as I try again and again,
to rise to the sky-
from the heaviness of,
what brings fear-
to its shouting,
I allow myself to embrace me-
quiet and quivering,
in my unsettling-
of life leaving me often helpless,
stepping onto new ground now-
I breathe and say,
you are the one-
who can bring it back,
to the holding of your soul-
in soothing silence,
so I come now-
holding compassion,
as my compass-
grace as my candle,
in my storm.
Author Maureen Kwiat Meshenberg ©
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