Raucously shouting fall is here,
geese fly over
on a cool day
refreshed by rain.
The grass is greener and willows
drip, creeks gurgle,
full but contained.
Crepe myrtles bend.
All the while victims of Harvey
in shock, wonder
how they will find
strength to move on.
Wanting to relax, to let go
of all that held me tightly
in its grip, I turned my attention
to my breath, counting as
I inhaled, then exhaled,
then inhaled again.
Suddenly,
I was surprised to find
my eyes fill with tears,
tears not of sadness or relief,
but simply tears of gratitude
for the mystery of breath itself.
With that sudden flow
of gratitude came an unexpected
letting go.
JDG
Take pleasure in beauty wherever you are.
Queen Anne’s lace in a roadside ditch,
pink petunias at the foot of a wall,
bright yellow dandelions punctuating a field,
or white hydrangeas hanging low.
Appreciate it all while you can,
before they (or you!) fade away.
Self-important leaders posture,
Pond mist rising,
birds chattering.
All shall be well.
Black baseball player taunted while
honeysuckle
perfumes the air.
All shall be well.
President praises dictators.
High hawks soaring
cyclists coasting.
All shall be well.
Isis bombs convoy, friend’s grandson
stands up for right.
Tall grass swaying,
shadows dancing.
ALL SHALL BE WELL.
As daffodils fade and wither,
and pink flock and cherry blossoms pale,
red bud on River Road catches my eye,
and grape hyacinth stops me in my tracks.
Today I stopped.
Sat on the bench
by the pond, told
Luna to sit,
and closed my eyes.
Felt the cold wind
on my face and
listened to it
whisper, then shout
through the pine trees.
Watched a flock of
six geese swim by,
lift their wings, and
swiftly fly off.
Today I stopped.
Dawn is here.
Nip in air,
mist on pond,
wet green grass,
geese honking.
Tears streaming,
heart breaking
for old friends.
Tragedy
has shattered
peaceful lives.
The question
is why? WHY?
Formed by ancient glaciers and seas,
these mountains and
valleys soothe my
tired, troubled soul.
Their strength, their stillness feed me and
I delight in
their secret treasures,
striped wintergreen,
jewel weed, Indian pipe, and
spotted mushroom,
monk’s cap lily,
and spongy moss.
When it seems as if the world is
breaking and a
new horror hits
the headlines each
day, and hate and fear encourage
further madness,
trauma, heartache,
and hopelessness,
we MUST go back to the basics,
model respect
for all beings,
spread love, not hate.
My personal spiritual authority does not come
from creeds written by men of power
hundreds of years ago or from TV preachers
with clay feet pontificating on
shoulds and should nots, from people
who think they know what
I should or should not do,
believe or not believe.
It comes from moments of being totally present
to all beings, all creation, all experiences,
when I say yes to each thought, feeling,
and emotion that crosses my path,
when I open myself to mindful surrender,
let go, and allow loving kindness,
gratitude, and appreciative joy
to permeate my whole being
Those moments when the world stands still,
the heart opens,
the curtain is parted,
and I sense something beyond…
something that I sometimes glimpse,
that sometimes eludes me
but I know is there
in the deepest part of me
where all chatter ceases
and authenticity and compassion reign.
(with gratefulness to the Chrysalis Institute’s leaders for the 2015-2016 Spiritual Paths: Carol, Kay, Philip, Susan, & Vicki)
untangling the web 