Isn’t life ceremony?
Breath it’s prayer,
pain and suffering the sacrifice
to grow souls;
love it’s healing,
hope it’s saving grace,
gratitude the great amplifier of joy.
Every heart a doorway
to the lodge or church or
temple that lives there.
Find your way to a seat; any seat will do.
Sit quietly and listen for a voice.
Even if nothing is heard, something is felt
that makes you better.
All around us medicine; you are medicine.
Not all medicine tastes good,
but it all does some good.
Partake in the communion with nature,
worship the ground you walk on,
have reverence for all life, everywhere.
A beautiful ceremony lives in you.
Bring it to life.
Don’t hold on to the gift.
Give it to the world.
You will make missteps along the way,
but the ceremony goes on forever.
It is still happening.
I’ve returned home from a long walk
in Winter’s night
along the woodland’s dark edge
a place where shadows play with one’s imagination
Peaceful scents of pine escape from emerald green needles
enclosed in the wind’s frosty breath
drifting past my rosy running nose
Every last whiff I sniff
Covered by a moonbeam cloak of sequins,
the mesmerizing landscape twinkles in
the mind’s wide open eye
Wakened from a whisper on the wind
forgotten promises remembered
surely Winter, with its pure white heart,
would not be unforgiving.
Clear and cold, attention starved thoughts
a constant companion
no turning back now
I follow where they go
down and deep
up and away
Winter nights walk stillness inward
where I hear silence speak
in a soft slow voice
of wonderful things
Feeling warm, cozy and comfortable
I turn towards home
I’ve returned to my heart
As I walked toward the frosty field the crisp freshness of a mid-November morning burst open inside me. The moist air’s sweetness so thick I could taste it on the way in and out. I momentarily felt suspended in the energetic exchange. I felt the breath give me life.
Every breath we take has that sacred feeling within it. We simply aren’t aware of it. Isn’t it ironic that we were created to not give a thought about breathing but that we can’t go without a thought until we think about it?
With the next breath the feeling of aliveness was gone. I tried to get it back but my mind got in the way of my mindfulness. What to do but walk on and as Mary Oliver wrote, “Breathe it all in and love it all out.”
My thoughts wondered, perhaps this breath of air once crossed the sea or through the needle of a White Pine tree and now me. The wind on its timeless travel through the eons carries with it the gift of sacred motion and change. Each breath an invitation to the Spirits of the elements to re-establish a relationship with our soul center. To remember the earth and the stars lives in us. To remember life can change in an instant.
Created within our breath is the sacred space between being and becoming. Honor this place of wisdom by following the feeling of breathing. Breath your Spirit into the world. Let the wind of the soul travel through the Universe. Be inhaled by the cosmic lungs and exhaled into the Great Mystery. You are the breath of life
Thick drop of honey—
What flower do you taste of?
All of them at once.
Like a river of sun, the honey pours from the extruder’s spigot. I’m preoccupied licking sticky places on my hands and forearms but I pause to be fully present during this glorious moment overflowing with gratitude.
From a summer of frequent rain came unrelenting blooms. From unrelenting blooms came an abundance of life’s sweetness. I taste it in friendship, in a sunrise, in a soft-spoken word of encouragement, in a door held open, in a smile… kindness sticks sweet to everything it touches. Bee kind.
* If you look closely at the featured image you will see the honey bee on the sunflower 🙂
On a recent day trip to Door County with my family I found a heart stone along the path we hiked. My daughter Sophie found one a little further down the trail. Seeing a heart shape in anything sends an immediate surge of love through me. Love is a universal language all of creation speaks.
Caressing those two heart shaped stones in my pocket made me stop and think about all the experiences, people and beliefs that have shaped my life. Some were wild scribbles. Others intrigue beautiful designs. None of which can be erased. The shape of my life effects everything around me. Whether that’s positive or negative is up to me.
As Sophie heads off to college I know the shape her life takes is in her heart. She just needs to follow it.
I see past your words
I feel what you are saying
Shape words into love
It has been an unusually soggy summer here in Northeast Wisconsin. Both in rain and humidity. Instead of making 2nd or 3rd crop this time of year, most farmers are just getting off 1st crop. The worry that comes with the struggle to harvest hay was getting real. That was until a four day break in the weather was forecast two weeks ago. How quickly lack can turn into abundance if we are willing to cease the opportunity….even if it means a whole lot of hard work. The inspiration for this piece.
Bronze skin leather tough
Drenched in salty drops
I drink in the sky
Prayers pour out of my heart
Machinery and God be merciful
Long windrows lay ready to make perfect hay
Keep breakdowns and tears of dark clouds away
Bound tight with twine square bales bulge
Full wagons waddle over the bald field
Winter’s hunger aches for your green
As stars usher in night’s moist breath
I walk up to the house feeling spiritually quenched
Exhausted muscles and mind rest peacefully in gratitude’s joy
Hard work fears me
Night bleeds from day’s break
Brilliant color stains the sky
Darkness keeps secrets
Winter weans the weak.
Life’s circle goes unbroken.
Breath a living prayer.
through the night’s darkness
an icy mist fell
fog floats over the earth
like a grey phantom
nothing left untouched
dampness drips from the landscape’s heavy bones
a mystical mist
mother earth’s breath
trapped in the fallen sky
silently heaven’s soft kiss moves in
sunrise sweet lips
a gentle warmth reached
chill crumbles in the face of light
numbed emotions thaw
mysterious meanings revealed
I walk with my feelings
towards light’s waiting kiss
lost in the shadows
“Don’t judge each day by the harvest you reap but by the seeds that you plant.”~ Robert Louis Stevenson
The woods are slow to fill up with snow and cold this winter. I have yet to wear more than one layer of wool when walking Wally. Old man winter’s unpredictable emotions keep me wary. The snow shovel and extra woollies will be kept within reach. Unable to enjoy the usual playful snow activities has left a void in this winter. Then with impeccable timing they came! Slow at first. Soon opening the mailbox needed to be done with great care. Or an avalanche of shiny slippery catalogs would land on the ground.
One staple of the dark white season I can always count on is currently piling up on my kitchen counter. I save them for those especially long dreary days—seed catalogs! They come at a time when forgiveness for last year’s garden disappointments is easy to offer up. I’m ready for another go at the garden’s blank canvas.
I have my favorites, the tried and true. Oh, but on the next catalog page I’m tempted to believe the “too good to be true”. The colorful photos and persuasively written descriptions fill me with anticipation. Small seeds of optimism take hold with a promise to grow.
Life is like a mailbox full of seed catalogs. You never know what opportunities optimism will grow.
Wishing you and yours the best from life in 2019.
Spring seed catalogs
loyal as my old dog
piled up on the table
a late winter mailbox staple.
Slippery glossy pages for some
no frills no fancy for others
black ink on plain paper
for this one.
New and improved promises to create
bountiful blooms on the garden’s clean slate
last year’s disappointments easily forgiven
with one glance to the next page
I escape from winter’s white prison.
Favorite varieties come first
the tried and true-blue
but then there are the new
that make you utter, “Oooo”!
Could they be too good to be true?
Colorful descriptions shout
no pest no drought will kill you out
this one will grow anywhere
without a doubt!
In deep winter optimism can be hard to muster
these light moments keep their luster
dog-eared pages mark the best
scorn the limits on the sum to invest!