Full moon rises behind
bare limbs soon to be
full of new buds, spreads
some light in a dark night.
Category Archives: spirituaity
Surviving Chaos
On this February day when
chaos seems to be the norm,
I stepped out onto my deck
and was caught unaware by
yellow and purple crocuses
blooming in the raised wooden
box. And then, another gift.
Daffodil shoots by the mailbox.
“To expect the unexpected
shows a thoroughly modern
intellect,” so said Oscar Wilde.
I say “Look for and embrace
surprise if you want to keep
your sanity in this crazy world.
Such Abundance
The grass crunches on
this cold winter morning
and frost twinkles on
every blade. The sun
reflects off a thin layer
of ice on the pond and
two crows in cacophony
at the top of a tree
discuss the morning news.
Shell-like white fungi
decorates a fallen branch,
soft moss covers the roots
of a tree, and fiddlehead fern
pokes through brown leaves.
Suddenly there is a flash
of red as a pileated
woodpecker darts from
one tree to another.
Tell me, how can one’s
heart not lift with this
lushness? Tell me, what
will you do to save this
for those not yet born?
Everything is Welcome
A tiny pink purse
and a pink hairbrush
in her hands, the
petite girl looked
up at me, the
greeter, who must
have looked official
with my nametag,
and very seriously
asked “Are
hairbrushes
allowed?” My
answer was yes
although her
mother may have
wished I said no!
But we know everyone
is welcome, whoever
they are and wherever
they are in their faith
journey, so why not a little
girl’s favorite hairbrush?
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.
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
