Gnarled hand claws
its way down
searching for
the source of
sustenance
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Category Archives: spirituaity
One Solitary Puff
One solitary puff of white
against a pure blue sky
appeared on a day when
nostalgia grabbed me while
driving along the James
River where I used to
stroll. With windows open
so I could hear the water,
I drove past the Z-dam
which used to enthrall
my grandchildren and
by the river rocks which
were so often filled with
the young who joyfully
offered their bodies to
the sun. Memories of
bygone years when I
lived a stone’s throw
away inundated my
thoughts. And yet those
years are barely a
blink in the vastness
of time just as that
small cloud is lost in the
limitlessness of the sky.
Opening to Life
Emerging tightly coiled,
fiddlehead fern gently
responds to the light of
the sun whose warmth
beckons it to unfurl
and release to the world.
(photos taken in woods behind my house)
Surprises
In the dead of winter no one would
suspect that out of an old tree trunk
smothered with vines, a branch
of new beauty would emerge.
Pay attention to those of us now
covered with spots and wrinkles.
Perhaps we too have something
worth noticing, something that
may amaze and delight you!
A Day of Hope and Peace
I look up into the
clear blue sky when
I hear the sharp cry
of the Cooper’s hawk,
stopping to feel the
warmth of the sun
on my face after so
much cold, so much ice
that I almost forgot
how delightful a day
over 30 can be when
the grass is beginning
to peek through the
patches of snow and
the road is clear for
walking and spirits
are lifting and the
monks have finished
their journey through
ice and snow and cold
and have brought
hope and joy to the
entire world. May all
be like them and vow
to make each day
a peaceful one.
(Photo is AI generated)
Aging
Ripples of time
are moving me
closer, closer
to the edge where
mystery abounds.
A Snowy Morning
Up at dawn, ski pants, snow
boots, mittens and warmest
coat found and pulled on
and a vest for Miss Luna.
We are the first to venture
out into the world of white.
And when we stop, the
total stillness, the silence
is there, always there.
Luna off leash prances
ahead, often looking back
to ensure I am still there.
I take baby steps to cross
the wooden bridge over
the creek listening to the
crunch of my boots. I see
bare branches transformed
into works of art. A gaggle
of geese is huddled on the
shore and mirrored on
the pond making two
rows until our presence
causes them to waddle
into the water and swim
away. Our prints in the
pristine snow take me
back to childhood when
my brother and I rushed
to be the first out, laughing
as we lay down in the snow
to make our snow angels.
Today I intentionally halt,
and it’s the silence, the hush,
the utter stillness, the beauty,
the sense of something more
that fills me with gratitude and joy.
Autumn Morning
On a perfect autumn morning
when the air is clean and crisp,
mist slowly moves toward the light,
blurring the mirror image of trees
glimpsed on the surface of the pond.
Ahimsa
Tucked between mother
and father, five little goslings
slid in the pond and paddled
away in one clump of feathers.
Serene on the surface,
frantic underneath at our
approach though we meant
no harm. Even so, the parents,
in this scary world, deduced
precautions were necessary
to ensure their offspring
were safe. Is this not what all
sentient beings want?
Choosing a Path
What path do you choose today?
Will your actions matter?
Will you choose to immerse
yourself in the news or
do some small act of
kindness? Will you choose
to spend time hating
those in power or
feeling the love of family
and friends? Will you
choose to appreciate
the white dogwoods in
the woods, the blackberry
bushes, and the copper
ajuga blooms, or will you
notice the potholes in the road
and the unpainted fences?
Each day, the path we choose
matters, each and every action,
small or large, matters.
Inspired by Carrie Newcomer’s post Clearing a Path.
