When I Die
When I die,
I want to let go
and float away
as serenely
and gracefully
as the falling
leaves in autumn,
uncomplaining
yet curious,
surrendering
to the eternal
circle of life.
Category Archives: spirituaity
August Mornings
Mist covers the pond
like a giant’s breath
on a cool August morning,
a morning that is a gift
after hot humid days.
And then it effortlessly lifts
to allow the sun its show.
On a hot humid morning,
dragon flies dart around
plants by the lake,
blue wings flashing, and
tree frogs chatter away while
water nibbles at pond’s edge.
New sweet gum leaves
poke up from the roots of an
old tree and bees hum in
a hollow trunk; pine needles
are strewn across the path,
washed in piles by the recent rain.
White button weed hides in the
grass and I almost miss it.
I try to be present, but it’s a challenge.
Glimpses
As I drove along on
this cold, grey morning,
a flash of red caught
my eye, then three more,
as four cardinals flew from
the middle of the road and
disappeared into the white woods.
Later this morning through
the window during yoga I gazed
at a big tree that has captured
my heart, its snow-kissed branches
stretching protectively over the
courtyard of an old stone church,
filling the space with its gracefulness.
Powhatan State Park
Rustling of dry
leaves underfoot,
sun slanting
through pines,
clickety clack
of a train
far, far away,
Luna sniffing
here and there,
horse droppings
on the side,
pine needles
cushioning feet,
shell-shaped fungi
on downed trees.
Listen and look.
It’s all there
waiting for you.
Synchronicity
As Luna and I ambled around
the pond on this clear, new
morning with grass kissed by
frost, I began reciting out loud
as I often do Wendell Berry’s
The Peace of Wild Things.
At the very moment I
reached “and the great heron
feeds,” a great blue heron
flew the length of the pond.
Was this a coincidence,
synchronicity, or divine plan?
Beginner’s Mind
What would it be like
to start each day with
beginner’s mind? To marvel
at a body that functions
without our control,
that feels and sees
and smells and thinks,
that communicates in a
language developed
centuries before our
births. What would it be
like to see each sunrise
and sunset as a miracle,
each wildflower with
new delight, each
redbud as a wonder, each
bird as a new marvel?
What would it be like
to wipe the mind clean
of all thoughts and opinions,
to see the spark of the
divine in everyone and
everything we meet,
and act from a place
of love? Just imagine
what it would be like
to start each day
with beginner’s mind.
Inspired by the daily meditations of Richard Rohr
A Snowy Morning
The earth was hushed
that morning and a light
snow was falling, uniting
ground and sky, the still
and the moving, brown and
white. Pine needles on the
path were covered by snow
highlighting an intricate
design like a fisherman’s net
or spider’s web, an encounter
between life and death.
The cosmos was showing off
its artistry in twisted bare
branches, in an ethereal
light on a skim of ice, in
things seldom observed.
Nature was sparking the
imagination with the
magnificence of creation
with no intention other
than to simply enchant.
The Great Mystery
What makes mist gently
move across the pond or
the pond reflect the clouds?
What makes the sound
of the wind, and why do
pine needles fall to
the ground? What makes
the lavender flowers…these
lavender flowers at my feet
or the white ones beside them?
What makes the blue heron’s
neck so long and why does he
stand so still at our approach?
And what about the algae
on the fallen branch or
the orange mushrooms?
You might say that it
is all explained by science.
But what explains science?
Does anyone really know?
Do we work too hard
to make sense of it all
when perhaps we are
just meant to be amazed?
untangling the web 