Seeming like a blanket of white
flowers, it is
a field of pale
purple splendor,
seen only when I bend down and
look closely. Each
beauty has six
petals around
a yellow center, threadlike
lines splitting each.
So delicate,
so exquisite.
Perhaps if we took the time to
really see those
we pass, we would
glimpse their beauty.
For this I know, there is a light,
an essence, a
center in each
of us, just as
there is a center in each of
those lavender
beauties waiting
to be noticed.
She sat hunched over in her chair,
seeing nothing,
in her own world.
Was she still there?
Softly touching her shoulder, I
told her Luna
was here. Out of
blankness, boredom,
she straightened up, smiled, and love streamed
from hands and mouth.
A blind woman,
a tender dog.
The archetypal pattern lies
deep in your bulb,
waiting beneath
the earth’s surface.
The primordial force pushes
you up through the
layers of soil
as you spiral
skyward, drawn by the sun, fed by
the gentle rain,
unfolding leaves
and soft petals.
Have you ever eaten
a blackberry mindfully?
Or a blueberry or strawberry?
Close your eyes, take one bite
and your taste buds will
explode with delight.
Savor the sweet, sour taste,
roll the berry with your tongue,
feel its texture, its shape.
Grind the seeds with your teeth.
Let it stay in your mouth
as long as you can,
cherishing each sensation.
You are the tree that draws me
Each time I visit this place of retreat.
I see in your broken limbs
The challenges you have faced.
I see the wounds that have healed
So you can grow.
I see twisted branches formed as
You traveled on your crooked journey
To wholeness.
I see your branches spread out wide
As far as they can go,
Open with wisdom and compassion to
Enfold those who lean against your trunk.
I thank you for being my anchor each time.
While I work,
she softly sleeps
on the tan couch,
head on its arm,
paws touching,
a parcel of
brown and white,
curled in a ball of warmth.
I wonder what she is dreaming.
Is she sniffing her way around the pond,
testing the thin ice on its edge,
pausing to smell a cedar tree,
jumping when a heron takes flight?
Or is she in the dog park
cautiously greeting other dogs,
racing around the perimeter,
stopping occasionally to
make sure I am still there?
What a comfort to know that
when I move,
she will open her hazel eyes
and track my every step,
waiting to see
if it is time to follow.
What more could the world offer
at this moment, this very moment?
Trees,
heavy with ice,
bow down to the earth.
People
bombarded with lies,
bow to the liar.
There is no Other, we are one.
Hatred is a heart disease, it
can be cured and
it must be cured.
We can cure it.
11 innocents shot down and
13 bombs mailed.
Thousands marching
Just to be safe.
One young woman living in a
sanctuary
church, unable to
enjoy Fall’s beauty.
Hatred is a heart disease, it
can be cured and
it must be cured.
We can cure it.
There is no Other, we are one.
Inspired by Ruth King’s keynote address for the Chrysalis Institute
Creeping Kudzu of the mind – fear, worry,
blame – chokes out old
growth, smothers
new, slides
from
mind
to mind,
leaving no
room for the green
of love, acceptance, or wisdom to grow.
JDG
Striding ahead on Pine Trail
in Powhatan State Park,
energized by cooler air,
I almost trip and fall,
and am reminded that
I might be missing that
for which I have come,
so Luna and I
stop, look, and listen.
A canopy of trees overhead
keeps us almost dry
as the gentle rain hits
leaves far above
and plops on those below.
I see wet and glistening
Sassafras, and
shy, striped Wintergreen,
soft green moss,
and a path strewn
with rusty pine needles.
I hear birds chattering
to their neighbors
and squirrels foraging.
Only a distant plane
interrupts the peace
that comes to those
walking in the woods.
Who could ask for more?
Right here, right now,
I have everything I need.
untangling the web 