I am a wanderer. I would say that I am a seeker, but sometimes I have no idea what I might be seeking, so I will stick with wanderer. This blog is more a public journal than anything. I don't claim to have life figured out. I simply stumble from mystery to mystery, and share my reflections along the way. Sometimes I feel burdened, and trudge. Sometimes? Well sometimes grace breaks through, and its time to dance.
Saturday, May 31, 2014
What do I Seek
“If it is bread that you seek, you will have bread.
If it is the soul you seek, you will find the
soul.
If you understand this secret, you know you are
that which you seek.”
― Rumi
_________________________
In the muted light of morning
they scurry
staccato feet dancing quickly
as if lets too short
cannot get them to their destination
quickly enough
desperately pushing
through grass and brush
top knots dancing
round bellies swing
as they lock in on
the scattered sunflower seeds
dropped carelessly and generously
by Cross Beaks and Siskins
lurking in the Irises
Tess the might hunter lies
tail twitching
body tense
focused death
ah
a lesson to be learned
for this vague human
who blunders aimlessly
this way and that
what is it I want?
ah
yes
may I be at peace
Namaste!Friday, May 30, 2014
God's infinite "yes"
“I thank you God for this most amazing day, for the
leaping greenly spirits of trees, and for the blue dream of sky and for
everything which is natural, which is infinite, which is yes.”
― E.E. Cummings
______________________________
my body
gracefully and not so gracefully
says no
and yet the sacred says yes
pundits lie
politicians mislead
haters hate
and yet
yes
a friend misunderstands
and as I plod my way through yet another day
purpose grows dim
and still
yes
it is hard to stay with no
when the Sacred
stares you in the face
with infinite
yesThursday, May 29, 2014
Our Calling
We are all just walking each other home
Ram Dass
____________________________
the strong and the weak
the rich and the poor
poets and presidents
righteous and sinners
the wanderers,
those who trod this earth
and leave faint footprints
in the fabric of time
the plodders
those who plow through life unheading
pushing apart, pushing through
leaving an unmistakable imprint upon
the earth
we are those who in this moment
this wrinkle in time
love and hate
grasp and give
those who wound
those who heal
but ultimately
for all who plod, trod
run, walk
limp, or crawl along the way
the destination is the same
union or, perhaps
re-union
with the one from which we came
for all the road
while intensely different
is ultimately the same
it is the road home
and for all our most profound calling
is to walk each other home
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