make room for the sacred
Mark Nepo tells us to,
‘put down what doesn’t work –
so that we can find what is sacred’.
🎈
What worked so well yesterday,
may not work today.
We wear out our structures of known truth,
the frameworks of what we use for living,
for healing.
Let them go,
trust in the new architecture –
modern,
with our personal, classic twist.
We are always becoming.
The seasons gracefully change every year
the same
yet not.
Watch for the signs of structural failure,
for the daffodils blooming bright
against the dreary brown world
build a new bridge,
delight in this magnificent design,
in the dots of brilliant color
those amazing cranes hanging in and over the water
strong, foundational columns
green stalks alive with promise
rising from deep within the waters,
creating the new skyline of your dreamscape
the new landscape of your best-to-come life
welcome this new place of crossing
the early soft fuzz of new growth on the earth beneath your feet
It can handle rush hour
or the heaviest foot-traffic
the ground will always hold our weight
Continue
the bold build
the celebration of every sign of spring
always awake to the possibilities of this very moment
remember to trust your intuition
remove what is not working
water things well and often
before the old fully implodes
before the grass turns an ugly shade of brown
right underneath our feet
❤️
Amy Lloyd
I am struck by the otherness of things rather than their same-
ness. The way a tiny pile of snow perches in the crook of a
branch in the tall pine, away by itself, high enough not to be
noticed by people, out of reach of stray dogs. It leans against
the scaly pine bark, busy at some existence that does not
need me.
It is the differences of objects that I love, that lift me toward
the rest of the universe, that amaze me. That each thing on
earth has its own soul, its own life, that each tree, each clod is
filled with the mud of its own star. I watch where I step and see
that the fallen leaf, old broken grass, an icy stone are placed in
exactly the right spot on the earth, carefully, royalty in their
own country.
❤️
Looking for the Differences by Tom Hennen
February on another coast is April
here. Astrology is months:
you are February, or are you
June, and who is
December? Who is books
read in spring, wingspan
between midnight
and mourning
Another starry tree, coastal
counterpoint where magnolia is
a brighter season
peach and pear
are grafted onto the same tree
fear and fat stick
to the same sprained bone
For this adolescent reprise
recycle everything trivial
but this time bring
the eye into sight:
make sight superior
to what is seen
A decade is to look at June
and see April
to look at April
and see February
Relief of repetition
seasons mean again,
one flowering branch suspended
in the half-light of spring
We sat on steps
beneath a tree
No: I walked by
The tree bloomed
and I looked up
❤️
Virginia Street by Jennifer Hayashida
life: acoustic & amplified 