Tag: Poetry

Sweet Wonder!

Greetings,

It’s been awhile and much has happened since my last post. I took some time to step back and gain my foothold in life. A big part of that was taking a course to be certified as a Forest Therapy Guide, also known as Forest Bathing. It’s a relational practice that brings people into deeper intimacy with nature places. My certification through the Association of Forest Therapy Guides and Programs (ANTF), will be complete in May after attending a 4-day immersion in Colorado. The experience has opened my relationship with nature wide and deep. Delightful discoveries continue to reveal themselves to me as I embrace the way of the guide as a lifelong journey.

Simultaneously with the certification program I had my second book, Sweet Wonder, accepted for publication through Shanti Arts Publishing! It’s available now on Shanti Arts which I highly recommend checking out. The link is located upper right hand side of this page. So many amazing authors! I love her new “Quotes” page and the most recent, Still Point Quarterly, is out and it’s free.

You can order a copy through Amazon in both book/kindle form, and many other online book stores soon. Including bookshop.org which a lot of people like. Sweet Wonder would make a sweet Mother’s Day gift, in my humble opinion šŸ˜

I have several local in-person events coming up to sign and sell copies. These are my favorite! Sharing our stories reminds us that we have far more that connects us then separates us. I am grateful for all of you that have supported and encouraged me to keep writing over the years. Especially, those of you that follow this blog. With all my heart, I thank you.

Nature creates wonder * Wonder opens hearts* Open hearts illuminate the world.

In deepest gratitude,

Angie

Piece of Love

“Love is the whole thing. We are only pieces.”~Rumi

We are all made of and from love.

We are one.

We are loved to pieces.

You and me make things whole

when love comes between us.

Take Joy

Joy can seep into a heart,
steady and slow; seeking a way in,
making soft all that was hard.

Joy can pierce a soul
like a beautiful painted arrow
hitting its mark.

Joy can do nothing but wait;
in the sunā€™s warm touch,
a Pine forestā€™s fresh scent,
the song of winged-one greeting the new day.

In every moment,
within your reach,
joy is waiting.
Take it.

Wallow in the shadow of the world’s gloom
or dance with the light of joy and waltz over it.
I hope you dance.

Birth of Beginnings

Winterā€™s seeds are sown.
Beneath me I feel the pregnant earth.
She is swollen; soft and opening.
Preparing for what comes next.

Aliveness passes through vulnerability.
Havenā€™t we all felt that push?
Been in that tight place?
Forced to bring change into the world.

I watched suffering bear down on the skinny fox and wounded deer.
One fed the other and for both, the anguish ended.
That knowing gave me solace.
Within the circle of life,
the womb of creation is held.

Light comes sooner and stays longer these days.
It burns through Winterā€™s heavy cloak of cold;
vanishing with it, misery and madness.

Oh, to see the land kissed by green again!
To hold all its babies, close to my heart!

Restless with anticipation,
giddy with excitement,
I wait for Spring to take its first breath;
the birth of beginnings.

Between Skins

Garter Snake left something behind,

a lacy sleeve

of his diamond design.

Soft and fragile,

thin as a whisper.

He breached restriction,

peeled it away.

hooked by the log

inside out and in one piece

the tissue print laid.

Trusting each twist, every turn

Surrendered to the struggle.

I wonder how that feels

to wholly leave behind

all that will not grow with you.

Wet flesh of newborn knowledge

understandingā€™s tender spiral.

Shedding is both

quiet and beautiful,

skin and tears alike.

Garter Snake and I

both have reached this place

where we can be

stretched no furtherā€”

stretched no further.

I looked for him

among dead leaves

and smooth grass.

Perhaps he sought refuge

under dark undergrowth.

Restless as the forces of creativity

Garter Snake canā€™t be held still

or tight for long.

When stirred hidden passion glows

like embers buried in ash.

In this placeā€”between skins

all of me

wiggled free

by creative energy.

All of me free.

Here grow the light,

live in the sunfields

when you can be stretched no further

leave something behindā€” leave something behind.

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