I have no name…

I have no name,
I am as the fresh breeze of the mountains.
I have no shelter;
I am as the wandering waters.
I have no sanctuary, like the dark gods;
Nor am I in the shadow of deep temples.
I have no sacred books;
Nor am I well-seasoned in tradition.
I am not in the incense
Mounting on the high altars,
Nor in the pomp of ceremonies.
I am neither in the graven image,
Nor in the rich chant of a melodious voice.
I am not bound by theories,
Nor corrupted by beliefs.
I am not held in the bondage of religions,
Nor in the pious agony of their priests.
I am not entrapped by philosophies,
Nor held in the power of their sects.
I am neither low nor high,
I am the worshipper and the worshipped.
I am free.
My song is the song of the river
Calling for the open seas,
Wandering, wandering,
I am Life.

~ from “The Song of Life” by Jiddu Krishnamurti

Pink Tinged Petals

How many times…

“How many times have you turned toward yourself with the love, care, and tenderheartedness that you would toward your child, lover, best friend, or brother? The answer could be never or I can hardly recall. Maybe today will be the day you begin.” ~ Susan Piver

Yellow Orange Petals

Sunday Morning: As if this quiet day

Beautiful…

Live & Learn

Only a beige slat of sun above the horizon,
like a shade pulled not quite down.
Otherwise, clouds.
Sea rippled here and there.
Birds reluctant to fly.

The mind wants a shaft of sun
to stir the grey porridge of clouds,
an osprey to stitch sea to sky with its barred wings,
some dramatic music: a symphony,
perhaps a Chinese gong.

But the mind always wants more than it has –
one more bright day of sun,
one more clear night in bed with the moon;
one more hour to get the words right;
one more chance for the heart in hiding
to emerge from its thicket in dried grasses –
as if this quiet day
with its tentative light weren’t enough,
as if joy weren’t strewn all around.

– Holly Hughes, Dancing with Joy: 99 Poems

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Notes:

• Poem Source: Thank you Whiskey River
• Photograph: Hazy Day by stickerbandit via 

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How To Regain Your Soul

Come down Canyon Creek trail on a summer afternoon
that one place where the valley floor opens out. You will see
the white butterflies. Because of the way shadows
come off those vertical rocks in the west, there are
shafts of sunlight hitting the river and a deep
long purple gorge straight ahead. Put down your pack.

Above, air sighs the pines. It was this way
when Rome was clanging, when Troy was being built,
when campfires lighted caves. The white butterflies dance
by the thousands in the still sunshine. Suddenly, anything
could happen to you. Your soul pulls toward the canyon
and then shines back through the white wings to be you again.

~~ William Stafford ~~

Pink Petal Abstract

For A New Beginning

In out-of-the-way places of the heart,
Where your thoughts never think to wander,
This beginning has been quietly forming,
Waiting until you were ready to emerge.

For a long time it has watched your desire,
Feeling the emptiness growing inside you,
Noticing how you willed yourself on,
Still unable to leave what you had outgrown.

It watched you play with the seduction of safety
And the gray promises that sameness whispered,
Heard the waves of turmoil rise and relent,
Wondered would you always live like this.

Then the delight, when your courage kindled,
And out you stepped onto new ground,
Your eyes young again with energy and dream,
A path of plenitude opening before you.

Though your destination is not yet clear
You can trust the promise of this opening;
Unfurl yourself into the grace of beginning
That is at one with your life’s desire.

Awaken your spirit to adventure;
Hold nothing back, learn to find ease in risk;
Soon you will be home in a new rhythm,
For your soul senses the world that awaits you.

~~ John O’Donohue ~~

Rosebud

Speak Easy

Speak easy to my mind in whispers

that level fear and consume regret and

transform judgments into nothingness,

and spaciousness

and room to breathe.

Speak holy words that heal my wounds

and break down walls of separation

and isolation

and carry me to sacred shores

where peace lives.

Speak easy to my ears

a soft symphony of sounds that

moves my heart and softens

bones, my hands, my flesh, my mouth.

Speak of gentleness

for every night I hear stories of war

and affiliation and winning

and payback

and I am so confused.

Speak holy words of love and forgiveness

and strength and bravery

and I will sit with you and listen for as long as it takes

to hear you.

I am so grateful.

Speak easy to my eyes with your eyes

for what you see will meet your expectations.

Goodness prevails and grows

if you are willing to meet me halfway.

I promise I will see you back.

Speak holy words of redemption and reflection

that pierce this long night

of remembering,

and you will see your own reflection in my eyes

as I see mine in yours.

It’s still a mystery…

Please speak easy…

~~ Marylou Falstreau ~~