Monthly Archives: March 2014
Some things are just soft. Some things are just playful. Some things are simply precious gifted surprises. Some things don’t need words. They are perfect as they are. Nuff said. INjoy whatever the image gifts….and then… well… you’ll know.
Preparing to sit in morning meditation I watched the gentle dance of the trees and the bowed clouds mimicking the tree’s bend. And then the whisper, “Why do you look to see if there is wind? Why do you look asking to see what the morning is like?…..
Sameness. The wind pushes against the door as I try to go outside. The mountains are shrouded. The eyes blink and even my little dog sneezes with the dust laden wind. Sameness.
Until. Until the whisper drew my eyes up straight into the wind. With eyes squinting,…..
It’s just a plastic cup of ice tea. Not exactly something considered extraordinary. Unless you are driving down a neighborhood street, with wind and dust blowing against a cloudless sun filled sky. And in that “unless” moment you saw in the corner of a yard,…..
A day when the body is weak and the wind dust too strong for a walk. The need to move calls me to the elliptical. The window barely cracked open invites the howling wind. Facing the picture window the pigeons…..
Sometimes my internet’s home page leaves me puzzled. What is deemed headlines and important leaves my little heart and mind so confused and often in despair. This morning I quickly closed down the computer and set off for a quiet walk in nature. There, without…..
Doubt is normal. A video of whispers for when doubt seems overwhelming. Trust your heart and listen for your own whispers of grace. Conversing with Doubt and Nature
The word “Silent” and the word “Listen” both contain the same letters.
Two different words created by rearranging the positions.
And that was the unspoken conversation and whisper.
It is after days of Soaking in these downpours That the land can drink in The bounty, That the bejeweled trees can Accept nature’s offering. While the dewy greens are Very pretty, and the Running streams make the most Gentle trickling sounds There is no healing until…..
Someone’s home. Looked to be newly made. A home. Is that not an innate longing within everyone…to go or be at home, to know home? But which or what home? And somehow the image manages to look somewhat precarious. As I stared at the nest and thought…..
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