On dry days
the driftwood on my beach
is soft and gray,
a sleepy reminder
of trees that once stood
tall and young and strong.
But when the rains come,
the old gray wood awakens;
the colors of a life once lived
spring forth again,
the wounds appear
to throb again,
a call to passers-by:
I am not now
what I once was,
but, oh -- the life I've lived.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Monday, February 13, 2012
Content with Now
How foolish,
and yet, how human,
to watch the rain
pouring down the window
and dream of dry desert hills;
to stand in the valley
and long for the peaks;
to climb all day
and wish in the dark
for the safety below.
Will we ever learn
to be content
with Now?
and yet, how human,
to watch the rain
pouring down the window
and dream of dry desert hills;
to stand in the valley
and long for the peaks;
to climb all day
and wish in the dark
for the safety below.
Will we ever learn
to be content
with Now?
Friday, February 10, 2012
Channel marketing
I don't have a corner
on this market;
no leg up
on the competition --
just a clear sense
of design
of purpose, of worth
that is my own.
It isn't about being better --
it's about being true
to yourself and the divine;
I prefer to think I am a channel,
letting the spirit pour through.
on this market;
no leg up
on the competition --
just a clear sense
of design
of purpose, of worth
that is my own.
It isn't about being better --
it's about being true
to yourself and the divine;
I prefer to think I am a channel,
letting the spirit pour through.
Monday, February 6, 2012
Day's end
Day's end,
and the last stragglers
drift from the hall.
Lives conducted,
laws punctuated
by marble columns
and the ticking of the clock.
While inspiration soars
into the high arc of justice,
golden nymphs
dance circles of
what might have been
suspended in light.
and the last stragglers
drift from the hall.
Lives conducted,
laws punctuated
by marble columns
and the ticking of the clock.
While inspiration soars
into the high arc of justice,
golden nymphs
dance circles of
what might have been
suspended in light.
Sunday, February 5, 2012
New windows
Begin today:
a new window on experience --
instead of the landscape
you created,
a lovely but bounded view
of grass and trees
and carefully tended garden --
now the infinite invitation
of the divine landscape,
waves curl and crash,
mountains rise from the clouds,
and eagles soar,
circling and crying out
their challenge, and their summons:
step out; engage their world!
a new window on experience --
instead of the landscape
you created,
a lovely but bounded view
of grass and trees
and carefully tended garden --
now the infinite invitation
of the divine landscape,
waves curl and crash,
mountains rise from the clouds,
and eagles soar,
circling and crying out
their challenge, and their summons:
step out; engage their world!
Friday, February 3, 2012
Gathering
Through the trees,
the path,
the light,
the Buddha beckons;
an invitation to serenity;
to creativity; to hope.
In the room,
the women gather,
sharing tales of possibility,
dancing arcs of energy
connecting,
each to each,
dreaming together
of a newer world
where now will finally be more real
than then
or any future we could fear.
the path,
the light,
the Buddha beckons;
an invitation to serenity;
to creativity; to hope.
In the room,
the women gather,
sharing tales of possibility,
dancing arcs of energy
connecting,
each to each,
dreaming together
of a newer world
where now will finally be more real
than then
or any future we could fear.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
The thirst for possibility
How can we regainthat wide-eyed innocence;
that openness to all that is,
the curiosity
that allows and encourages us
to explore, to play,
to embrace a world
of color and joy;
to try, and then to change
without fear of wrong or right;
driven always and only
by this overwhelming thirst
for possibility.
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