Connective Tissue
Tag: creation
Tread Lightly
be kind creation
smile on your birding friend
glimpse the miracle
Snowy Owl. Plum Island MA 1/25/2020. Atlantic Ocean.
I hesitated to post my photos of my snowy owl trip since the owl photos are a bit blurry. But hell people, it is a Snowy Owl! And my first encounter. But certainly not the last.
This bird is down right stunning, majestic, gorgeous, and oh so patient. I watched the wind ruffling her feathers, her ever alert, keen sense of hearing, and her head turning to see the four corners of the tundrous field for close to an hour. She flew but never far away. She glided as a seaplane hovering the waters.
My heart skipped beats as I encountered this regal bird. I will talk of this for years to come. I thank you for being part of this monumental day. I left the island with a skip in my step. And hope.
Field notes to those wanting to take part in life’s sacred dance. Please remember to tread lightly. Earth’s preciousness is a gift we should treasure and never take for granted.
Land Scape
I sat with hunger and fed the ache. I sat with tears and wiped the face. I sat with fear and found a voice. I sat with you and smiled.
I sat with doubt and made a plan. I sat with joy and raised my hands. I sat with dread and found a tree. I sat with you upon my knees.
Subside
Church is poetry. Poetry is life. A life well lived.
gathering lost years
among the boughs of sorrow
unequal in space
Manger Straw
Some days
mom sang me lullabies
and i held my breathe
along with her
join the symphony
of dazzling lights
and ephiphany
“I seen Jesus”.
Her head would slump
and her mouth frown
in exclamation marks
“child i have no idea what you talking about.”
I would
stroke mom’s downy feathers
under her belly
where all such pain lands
bandage the broken wing
and hold my arms up high
“fly Jesus! fly!”
Explain to myself
there is no pillow to lay
my momma’s head
“child she has no idea what you talk about.”
Wintriness in Season of Love
I needed to feel the cold air arrest me. So I took a walk. Filled my lungs with sounds of you and dreamt what you might say to keep me near.
A hungry soul
satisfied
legs could carry such need.
Natural Warmth
Another Wordless Wednesday… and to think I thought it was Sunday. Man, my head needs a rest.
Scalloped Edges
Souls long to leave
in a bind
empty words
tying time there.
Soon seek and find
lonely smiles
between the colors
falling to the ground.
Confession
Church is poetry. Poetry is life. A life well lived.
I haven’t given up gathering resolutions. I have relinquished a resounding voice; moving on to disturb the mystery, in hopes the Spirit rises to meet us half way.
Silence is a remedy. A modern day deserted course that digs deep to uproot bitter taste and indulge in honeyed foreplay. Patience chooses to swim in the sweet aroma of (inner) peace, contentment and fortitude than muck around the endless anger of politics.
Rumi says my thoughts eloquently.
If you could get rid of yourself just once, the secret of secrets would open to you. The face of the unknown, hidden beyond the universe would appear on the mirror of your perception.
Make peace with the universe. Take joy in it. It will turn to gold. Resurrection will be now. Every moment, a new beauty.
This post probably belongs on my new blog Soul Signs. But in my inner mixings and until the picture becomes clearer, there will most likely be double postings or a runaway thought posted here on occasion.
I am not new to spiritual things. As a child I was highly in tune with the unknown and invisible world. I am a spirit being, as we all are or can become. I am slowly working my way back into hearing the quiet cricket hour. Knowing I am practicing these universal truths, to not rush to and fro like a disobedient wind is a step. To be a calming breeze on a stormy day, a leap of faith.
Day in the Woods
Stopping by -hello dear friend
the whipping wind flies
dropping petals from the sky
planting beauty at our feet
such marvelous days to celebrate.
