The yearning can so deeply call out I don’t think I can plumb its depths. My kneeling eyes rest upon the sky where buzzards upon the thermals Are painting the sky. The wind made visible in their artistry. The day’s…..
A doe laughing perhaps? I know she was chomping away on an apple as she gazed into my window at work. But you can’t see the apple and apple or not, I still think she was laughing. She laughed her way through quite a few…..
This morning as I opened the curtains with a soft whispered prayer that I might see a glorious dawn. The curtains opened, and yes, the dawn was magic. It occurred to me that the magic, beauty, and splendor of the dawn was the gift of…..
I may feel like I am meeting myself coming and going. Sometimes to feel I never meet. It is in the pause of stillness that the portals and sculptures of beauty are created. There, I meet myself. I am home.
From this morning’s reading of Joyce Sequichie Hifler’s Cherokee Feast of Days: Daily Meditations I read the quote, “The Great Spirit smiled upon us and made us glad…but we had to agree” ~ Keokuk. The phrase struck me…..
As the sun gifts the moon’s rest, I give thanks for this day. May the mind and body nestle in quite safety within Your sweet hands of Love. May my spirit, which dances between the thinness of the cradled flesh,…..
The morning’s sliver moon, somewhat like my day. The sweet sliver moon readying for Friday’s New Moon. The New Moon ushers in a new cycle and absolute fullness. It is also a fullness we cannot see. The moon’s illumination is completely hidden……
I sat amazed at the most incredible giant, white, textured poofy cloud. Gorgeous. Without warning some mischievous little dark clouds, like a magic marker, drew a face on the cloud. Two eyes and either two lips or a mouth and…..
From non-judgement and non-trophies the Sweet Hands of Life held the yearnings with tenderness. A simple Sunday morning. Pelicans and ravens chatting. A prairie dog and fawn showing their dance moves. A “marmot” my eyes thought they saw only to…..
A raucous few weeks of news and daily experiences. I cannot say I have clearly heard the whisper. Somehow, though, a lion most of us did not know about, seems to hold the whisper’s voice. I think of trophies.
I have written…..
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