And I, who collects, treasures, gasps, and gives thanks for every feather found, prayed that not a single feather would go amiss.
The fingers of the heart were gifted.
Whisper for the Eyes
“Yes, the baby bunny is washing his or her face. And that, little one, is the whole point. It is the whisper.”
Yes, that these eyes and heart will always be attuned to and aware of little things. To pause. To see. To simply notice.
But…..
I remember my last piano recital. Octaves are challenging with small hands. It was a marvelous classical piece that ended with both hands flying down the keyboard in octaves. A brief pause and then simultaneously both hands come crashing down on the keyboard in a resounding…..
It seems several times, over the last couple of weeks, conversations have turned to bucket lists. I listened attentively and pondered more intensely. Are there things I would like to do before I die? Oh yes. But, it seems my bucket list strays from all…..
Spring reminds us of the impermanence of winter. Summer will remind us of the impermanence of spring. A full moon rises in a cloudless sky. Clouds remind us of the impermanence of a cloudless night.
The musical term da capo sends the score back to the beginning. When…..
The bird caught my attention. Seeing the photo, my eyes locked on the thorns. The focus of the bird’s body bridged the two. All three created the beauty. I continued to ponder and noticed how my eyes moved around the picture without resting…..
A day where you can easily trip into overwhelmed. Then the Whisper, “Little one, what does ‘overwhelmed’ truly feel like?” I closed my eyes and viscerally remembered the beautiful ancient tree.
Eyes opened. The alchemy gifted a day of awe.
No work. Too cold and dreary for a picturing outing. Vacuumed. Mopped. Cleaned counters and bathrooms. Listened to gentle music. Meditated. Worked on a jig saw puzzle. Petted my four legged children. Watched squirrels and birds feed on fresh seed. Slow hot…..
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