Tag Archives: grace
Atlas shrugged. Conniving Sisyphus was condemned to pushing a boulder uphill only to watch it roll back. Icarus, full of pride, flew too close to the sun and was destroyed. Sometimes there is a fine line between boldness and complacency. Finding the middle path can be treacherous.
A…..
I journeyed to nature’s sanctuary seeking beauty. As I walked in silence my eyes were drawn to the mountain’s reflection upon the unfrozen part of the lake. I went seeking beauty. I went seeking to receive. Quietly and ever so gently, John O’Donohue’s words…..
If a picture is worth a thousand words, how does one measure or give a value to a heart sigh?
Knowing so much paperwork was waiting before the day begun, I opted to leave my quiet morning early. With the computer finally booted, coffee next to the monitor, I glanced at the clock. Not possible! How could so much time have zipped by and the…..
Two images. Two bookmarks. I wish I could show you how my struggling eyes have trained me to yet see. Then, should you ever need to know what grace is, you would know.
Some would see blurred leaves. My eyes had to…..
As I drove to work I was singing happy birthday to Rumi. When I arrived two ravens were hopping all around the building. When I stopped to chat they flew up and sat on the phone wires and continued their chattering. As I…..
Not much larger than my fingers, they lay scattered upon the wooded area behind my building. As I sat and held the small gifts, I thought of the morning reading I highlighted in my Kindle. No matter what the world may suggest or…..
Maxwell Wildlife Sanctuary called. The antelope on the mesa leapt and danced. The ravens tumbled and swirled in the wind. The white pelicans looked like a mass of cotton balls had fallen upon the lake. The hawks stood vigilant in the trees……
I went to the wildlife sanctuary to seek the grace of white pelicans, migrating geese, regal vigilant hawks, dancing bunnies and deer. I needed so to breathe. Instead my heart became a surf board and breathless I rode the curls of wave clouds foaming in…..
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…..
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