To witness wonder in action,
watch a puppy
in her first snow.
Nose to the ground,
in yoga’s perfect downward dog,
she sniffs and snorts,
then dances in
circles as she
tosses this mysterious thing.
No thought of the
future, only
this moment, now.
To witness wonder in action,
watch a puppy
in her first snow.
Nose to the ground,
in yoga’s perfect downward dog,
she sniffs and snorts,
then dances in
circles as she
tosses this mysterious thing.
No thought of the
future, only
this moment, now.
by BHW 3 Comments
I want to live on wonder’s edge,
to shut out the
jackhammer of
old stories and
fears and blames and everything
that limits me,
feeds my ego,
to be present,
to cast aside old habits, and
in their place,
silence, stillness
to invite grace.
With gratitude to Kathleen Dowling Singh for her presentation on “The Grace in Aging” at St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, January 24, 2015
Sun low in the Western sky, a
single bird with
cheerful song flies
over our heads.
Through the freeze-fried grass to pond’s edge,
footsteps crunching.
Luna, ever
the explorer,
sniffs and paws at each new smell, sight,
always present,
a reminder
for her mistress.
Early morning. Stacked, blue-grey clouds
drifting above,
backlit by sun,
moving slowly.
12 geese with raucous cries fly in
formation, with
one drifter far
behind, soaring
to his own fluttering music,
apart but close.
Who can’t be filled
with gratitude?
Twas just as a Christmas pageant
should be, baby
Jesus cried and
shepherds yawned. The
first wiseman could not be heard and
the second’s voice
so sweet and clear,
the third off key.
Baby angels wandering while
proud parents and
grandparents swelled
with pride and joy.
Candles in windows, lighted tree,
clear, sweet notes
sung by boys, drift
from radio
spreading their warmth on rainy day.
Luna and I
venture outside
to stretch our legs,
breathe clean, crisp, cold air. Me in my
yellow slicker,
she in bare fur,
bouncing along.
Overhead wild geese raucously
shouting, single
drops of rain on
pond’s surface spread
into concentric circles that
gently touch each
other. We hear
pitter patter.
To experience the peace such
moments bring, all
I have to do
is be open.
Each morning my intention for
the day is to
yield to joy…to
open mind and
heart to sights and sounds that cause me
to hold my breath,
awe-filled moments
and small moments.
Time is running out, what’s past is
past, and who knows
what is to come.
If not now, when?
by BHW 2 Comments
A shoo-in for Harvard she is!
What human can
sniff her way home
in the damp woods,
turn on the right path that leads to
her own back door?
What savvy, what
intelligence!
She solves a puppy puzzle in
record time, knows
when to please and
just when to tease.
by BHW 2 Comments
Who says old dogs can’t learn new tricks? In just one week
a new dog has
taught this old dog
to be patient,
work less, play more, get up early and see the stars,
seek joy in the
smallest things, a
crackly leaf,
sunrise, sunset, tummy rubs, wild geese, juicy worms,
and most of all
the sweet warmth of
absolute love.
Endless curiosity, boundless energy,
all packed into
eight pounds of white
and chocolate brown.
The warmth of a small head against my neck, floppy
ears, hazel eyes,
yoga expert
in downward dog.
An unexpected magnitude of joy and warmth
surprises me,
reminds me to
love completely.