life: acoustic & amplified

poetry, quotes & thoughts about life

Archive for the month “April, 2018”

perhaps

the darkness has no answers

silence is just silence

fall, and the world laughs at you

cry cause you’re all alone

stand at this broken crossroad

step out to cross that road

break all the rules,

you’re golden

charm all those silver moons

chorus

fly

wont you fly

your wings will hold you

the sky’s your home

fly

oh wont you fly

your wings will take you

where you want to go

just fly

the morning holds the questions!

there in its tender light

rise, and the world claps for you

bow cause you made it home

stand at this broken moment

step out to claim your time

break all those ties,

you’re free now

lick all those silver spoons

Chorus

fly

wont you fly

your wings will hold you

the sky’s your home

fly

oh wont you fly

your wings will take you

where you want to go

just fly

💞

Amy Lloyd Lyrics

 

Shepherd me, Love.

Lead me out from my attachments.

Lead me to the green meadow of your heart,

your deep well of peace and nourishment.

Fill me with your breath again,
breath of your Spirit.

Lead me in your way,
not mine,

even through darkest canyons
shadowed by death,

for your presence is my safety,
your will my comfort.

You invite me to your table with my enemies
to share with them your grace:

gift that overflows,
blessing that makes life beautiful.

Lead me where goodness and mercy go;
then on every road
I will still be at home in you.

__________________

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

www.unfoldinglight.net

possibles

I think about you sometimes

You in the sunlight

You with the administrative qualities

You with the soft hair

With the skull that felt so right to my palm

All the crazy love

and the blue eyes crying in the rain

I think about you sometimes

I always seem to get an ache in my heart

Yet I always smile a little smile as well

I think about you sometimes

How it could have been everything…

How it could never be anything…

Then I sigh…

I send you a kiss and a wish for love

and I gently move forward into my own beautiful

and at moment, solitary path

❤️

Amy Lloyd

I get by

HELP is strangely, something we want to do without, as if the very idea disturbs and blurs the boundaries of our individual endeavors, as if we cannot face how much we need in order to go on. We are born with an absolute necessity for help, grow well only with a continuous succession of extended hands, and as adults depend upon others for our further successes and possibilities in life even as competent individuals. Even the most solitary writer needs a reader, the most Machiavellian mobster a trusted lieutenant, the most independent candidate, a voter.

Not only does the need for help never leave us alone; we must apprentice ourselves to its different necessary forms, at each particular threshold of our lives. At every stage we are dependent on our ability to ask for specific forms of help at very specific times and in very specific ways. Even at the end, the dignity of our going depends on others’ willingness to help us die well; the sincerity of their help often commensurate to the help we extended to them in our own life. Every transformation has at its heart the need to ask for the right kind of generosity.

There are two kinds of generosity or help for which we must ask: visible help and invisible help. Visible help is practical or transactional help, asking for visible help we ask for help with what we can see is troubling us or we pay for a bed and a meal on our onward way or we pay someone to work for us. But it may be that it is the second less easily recognizable and invisible help which is most crucial at stepping into the unknown. Though we can think of invisible help in the old sense of an intervention from angelic or parallel worlds, we can also think of it in a an every day practical way: invisible help is the help that we do not as yet know we need. Invisble help is the help we are not quite ready for and all we can do is shape our identity toward revelation, toward being surprised, toward paying attention to what is just about to appear over the horizon of our understanding.

This overwhelming need for visible and invisible help never really changes in a human life from the first day we are brought from the womb calling lustily for those commodities. We need extraordinary physical help to get through our first years, continued help through our childhood and extraordinary emotional help and good luck to get through our adolescence. After that the need for continual help becomes more subtle, hidden as it is by the illusion that we are suddenly free agents able to survive on our own, the one corner of the universe able to supply its own answers.

It may be that the ability to know the necessity for help; to know how to look for that help and then most importantly, how to ask for it, is one of the primary transformative dynamics that allows us to emancipate ourselves into each new epoch of our lives. Without the understanding that we need a particular form of aide at every crucial threshold in our lives and without the robust vulnerability in asking for that help we cannot pass through the door that bars us from the next dispensation of our lives: we cannot birth ourselves.

To ask for visible and invisible help and to ask for the right kind of help and to ask in a way in which we feel that it is no less than our due, that, in effect, we deserve a visible and invisible helping hand, may be an engine of transformation itself. Our greatest vulnerability is the very door through which we must pass in order to open the next horizon of our lives. In the very end comes also another beginning, the ancient sense of a door opening to some final unknown, some invisible voice attempting to help us come to terms with our own disappearance, the hand extended to help us over a horizon equally as mysterious as the one we crossed at our birth.

‘HELP’

in “CONSOLATIONS:

The Solace, Nourishment and Underlying Meaning of Everyday Words.”

© David Whyte and Many Rivers Press 2015

a bit of cheer

      

This morning we’ll be out in the rain cheering our niece Andrea, running the Boston Marathon. Thirty thousand runners, for almost that many reasons, sploshing through the wind and rain for 26.2 miles. Elite athletes will run it in a couple of hours. Some people will take 6 or 8 hours. It takes a lot of commitment, perseverance and spirit.

Second only to the commitment, perseverance and spirit of the runners is the commitment, perseverance and spirit of the spectators. They’ll stand out there for hours and hours even in the rain cheering all along, cheering every runner, cheering indiscriminately, selflessly, cheering with admiration, hope and encouragement.

I cheer today for everyone who is on a long, hard journey—physical, mental, legal, relational, medical, professional, marital, artistic, spiritual—whatever their marathon is. And I cheer for everyone who is out there cheering them on. This is what God means for life to be like: all of us cheering all of us, everyone wanting everyone to do their best, hoping for victory for each of us, encouraging, believing in each other, sharing hope and amazement. Maybe even a little inspired by each other.

Cheer somebody on today. Cheer indiscriminately. You don’t know what long, hard journey they may be on. And trust this: when you’re in the thick of it, struggling to keep going, slogging against wind and rain and exhaustion, you may not hear it, but God is there, cheering you on, believing in you—maybe even a little inspired. Keep your head up.

__________________

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

www.unfoldinglight.net

Blessed are those who keep watch

through the day and night

Blessed are those who hold them up and those who stand in with them

Blessed be the good shepherds who watch over the watchers

Blessed are those who do not count the cost, yet know this spending is the greatest treasure life can afford

Blessed are those who remember how little it takes to encourage and lift another

Blessed are those who retain the ability to give and keep giving in feast or in famine

Blessed are those who pour generously for another from the rarest vintage

Blessed are those who never, ever, ever quit

Blessed are those who understand and respond with open invitations

Blessed are those who visit and bathe and wipe and watch and hold and kneel and pray and cook and shop and weep and love and clean and share and laugh and crawl into bed with and sing and dance and do all sorts of other wonderful and miraculous works

Blessed be them all – each and everyone

Blessed be the path of the caregivers, may they be given the greatest gifts of all – Love, grace respect and the most tender care in return

❤️

Amy Lloyd

The beginning is such a good place to be, my darling. There is much in store. But there is acknowledgment of what came before the beginning to mark this moment as a beginning. And in that place I was there, too. But let’s start where beginning is—the union of Me and you, the awakening of your heart, bit by bit, to Me.

I awaken you further, now.

These first starts are for you to appreciate the moments that came before them—to see where I was, what I was doing, before you recognized my presence. Let Me take you back to where I was when you couldn’t see Me there. Perhaps the definitions of beginning will need to be rewritten.

I always begin again in you, child.

I am the discovery of the beginning—all hope and life in you. I will give you a fresh start this day. I give you new breath, new eyes, new adventures to set out on with Me. But I want to start this beginning by going back to where I’ve always been with you.

I have always been with you, child, even when you couldn’t see it. I want to show you now.

– Loop

even a small love cannot be concealed

HOW I BECAME A WARRIOR

Once, I ran from fear

so fear controlled me.

Until I learned to hold fear like a newborn.

Listen to it, but not give in.

Honour it, but not worship it.

Fear could not stop me anymore.

I walked with courage into the storm.

I still have fear,

but it does not have me.

Once, I was ashamed of who I was.

I invited shame into my heart.

I let it burn.

It told me, “I am only trying

to protect your vulnerability”.

I thanked shame dearly,

and stepped into life anyway,

unashamed, with shame as a lover.

Once, I had great sadness

buried deep inside.

I invited it to come out and play.

I wept oceans. My tear ducts ran dry.

And I found joy right there.

Right at the core of my sorrow.

It was heartbreak that taught me how to love.

Once, I had anxiety.

A mind that wouldn’t stop.

Thoughts that wouldn’t be silent.

So I stopped trying to silence them.

And I dropped out of the mind,

and into the Earth.

Into the mud.

Where I was held strong

like a tree, unshakeable, safe.

Once, anger burned in the depths.

I called anger into the light of myself.

I felt its shocking power.

I let my heart pound and my blood boil.

Listened to it, finally.

And it screamed, “Respect yourself fiercely now!”.

“Speak your truth with passion!”.

“Say no when you mean no!”.

“Walk your path with courage!”.

“Let no one speak for you!”

Anger became an honest friend.

A truthful guide.

A beautiful wild child.

Once, loneliness cut deep.

I tried to distract and numb myself.

Ran to people and places and things.

Even pretended I was “happy”.

But soon I could not run anymore.

And I tumbled into the heart of loneliness.

And I died and was reborn

into an exquisite solitude and stillness.

That connected me to all things.

So I was not lonely, but alone with All Life.

My heart One with all other hearts.

Once, I ran from difficult feelings.

Now, they are my advisors, confidants, friends,

and they all have a home in me,

and they all belong and have dignity.

I am sensitive, soft, fragile,

my arms wrapped around all my inner children.

And in my sensitivity, power.

In my fragility, an unshakeable Presence.

In the depths of my wounds,

in what I had named “darkness”,

I found a blazing Light

that guides me now in battle.

I became a warrior

when I turned towards myself.

And started listening.

– Jeff Foster

love warriors walk through this world

love dripping from open hands

falling onto shattered pieces of the broken

staining bits of the kaleidoscope of hearts

stepping carefully

slowing down

as the ones who have forgotten to know

appear to do battle

not knowing what they have forgotten…

we are all the light

we are each the beloved..

please let me hold you

touch those wounded places

rub love on the sore spots

until you remember

what you already know

stay here with me

for a long long while

let’s walk together

connecting

hands

hearts

love

as we go

allowing the drip to become

a pour

a fountain

a river

an ocean

as we sail our sea green ship

into this mystic world beyond the stars

beyond the moon

and once again

find ourselves home in the sun

❤️

Amy Lloyd

What is needed, rather than running away or controlling or suppressing or any other resistance, is understanding fear; that means, watch it, learn about it, come directly into contact with it. We are to learn about fear, not how to escape from it.

– Jiddu Krishnamurti

wildfire

A rose is a rose

Beauty is beauty

this tabernacle houses the golden chalice

which continually runs over

into the ocean of dreams

creation evolves moment to moment

wells being dug in hard dry ground

can burst into geysers at any time

just like Old Faithful

predicable magic

inside of our own hearts

rivers of inked blood and sweat

traveling from soul to hand

free flowing love songs

spilled onto pure white pages

could never be ignored

for the rest of eternity

our legacy continues

within each other

eyes never the same

for having shared that look

and so it goes

ever onward

beings of light

spreading our light

until the whole of everything

of everywhere

catches wild with fire

and flames alive with holy glory

🔥

Amy Lloyd

As Plato wrote: “The power of the good has taken refuge in the Beautiful.”

I see your faces within the sacred mist

women of the seven mountains

emerging through your veiled masks

your lovely smiling photographs

White clouds descended into treed tops

forests of beauty hung with shadow

Ghostly opaque beauty

Black fury assembled

the voice of heaven demanding silence

our stories tumble into this place

Honest and life changing

I am listening

I am Letting go of all illusory beliefs

that you and I are not enough

This magic moment holds us fully

Light breaking through in patches of holy wonder

all these doors into unlimited possibility

the darkness holds all these shades and shapes of mystery

I drive a thousand miles feeling the magnitude of what these days are

where we will all go from here is a matter of personal choosing

all I know is the world will never be the same for me

because you invited me into your circle

because you held me with so much love and grace

as I worked through the startling reality

of my unexpected resurrection

🎄

Amy Lloyd

life & terms

every bridge invites someone to cross it.

– Deepak Chopra

on the shores of my soul

I invite you to come

cross the bridge of love

and sit with me a while

under the old banyon tree

and wonder the possibilities of where our love can lead

the river is wide

from shore to shore

yet, there’s always a bridge of love

we must cross once more

always once more

to reach our home on the distant shore

where we’ll both be safe

where fear and war and pain will be no more

and joy resides with us

side by side

❤️

Amy Lloyd

The moment when, after many years

of hard work and a long voyage

you stand in the centre of your room,

house, half-acre, square mile, island, country,

knowing at last how you got there,

and say, I own this,

is the same moment when the trees unloose

their soft arms from around you,

the birds take back their language,

the cliffs fissure and collapse,

the air moves back from you like a wave

and you can’t breathe.

No, they whisper. You own nothing.

You were a visitor, time after time

climbing the hill, planting the flag, proclaiming.

We never belonged to you.

You never found us.

It was always the other way round.

Margaret Atwood: “The Moment”

purpose

Why am I still here?

What am I adding to this world?

the questions are a bit wandering

I think through what I keep answering,

You’re here to spend as much time with your family as possible

You’re here to enjoy these moments

You’re here because you and I needed to meet and help each other

You’re here because the cats job isn’t done and she still needs to protect you

You’re here because there’s still meaning and purpose for you to be here

I know it’s difficult to be confused

I know it’s difficult to be dependent

I know it’s difficult to forget so many things

Life can definitely be difficult

You’re here because you’re loved

You’re here because you are adding love and joy to people’s lives

You’re here for more reasons than I can ever understand or name

Just as we all are

There are so many things we will never understand

as we let go into the breath that keeps us here

as we surrender into the soul of the soul of the universe

whose name is Love

💞

Amy Lloyd

    

Those mornings when you wake up burdened,

already thinking Oh why bother,

start here:

thank God for one thing.

One person whom you love will do,

though even a remarkable coincidence is acceptable.

You don’t even need to go into peaches,

the color blue, or migratory birds,

or a child’s laugh you heard the other day,

let alone the angelic speech of nerve synapses

or the inscrutable ballet of spiral galaxies,

or God’s outlandish love for you.

Just one thing to give thanks for.

Then resolve to live the day

in adequate gratitude for that one thing,

and begin.

__________________

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

www.unfoldinglight.net

A thing is ordinary. But its Being is miraculous. Even though Being is no-thing and no-mind, nothing is more substantial. When your mind is empty of all concepts, you perceives the diamond radiance of your own pure Being, the Self who is free from subject or object. This is perfect contentment.

Possession of things without the fragrance of their Being, is poverty. But the Being of things is boundless wealth. Now the richness of Being overflows from every point in the vacuum of space.

If people tasted the Being in things, they would be forever satisfied without clinging to the things themselves, and no more wars would arise. How could anyone practice exploitation or greed when the mind is saturated with the fullness of Being?

Everything that you encounter is impermanent, like a wisp of dissolving mist. But when you encounter the Being of a thing, you touch eternity with all the cells of your flesh.

If your heart merges with the Being of a gnat or a pebble, you know the Being of God. For the Being of a gnat is the Being of God. And knowing the ecstasy of God’s Being will expand your body to the rim of the cosmos.

How much greater, then, is your bewilderment when you gaze into the Being of a human face? I am not talking about the sorrow or the joy, the youth or the age, the pain or the beauty of the form, but its Being.

Even the Being of a melting dewdrop radiates eternity. This is why Jesus communicated his infinite existence in a morsel of bread, and Buddha transmitted the whole Dharma by holding up a little wild flower.

🌻

Fred LaMotte

Brave night…

bold world;

you can find God around every corner,

blinking lights…

hugs from a tree…

the way color and a rising sun can make you weak in your knees;

Green, yellow, red

like a subtle survey of those on the ground…

angels doing more than we will ever understand…

mantras heard so high in the atmosphere,

prayer flags wave like hero’s in the breeze..

and mountain goats raise their heads, then bow so low…

God is close

so very close

one could be afraid to pray and be heard…

or one could whisper ” help” while changing their clothes…

calming their heart with a cup of hot tea…

walking so far and yet, there is always farther to go…

and God hears

so very clearly

what it means to live as heart with bones;

soul with a song…

Mary with a Jesus…

mom with a job ,

Ruth and Naomi…Rumi and the book of Job;

a couple dozen wisdom quotes and a pocketful of stones

to throw in the pond as you walk by…

praying for children, for parents and friends;

praying for the impossible, the vulnerable,

praying for the courage to say, ” Faith is like a charm.”

Beauty,

Rev. Donna Knutson

inside / outside

When you regain a sense of your life as a journey of discovery, you return to rhythm with yourself. When you take the time to travel with reverence, a richer life unfolds before you. Moments of beauty begin to braid your days. When your mind becomes more acquainted with reverence, the light, grace and elegance of beauty find you more frequently. When the destination becomes gracious, the journey becomes an adventure of beauty.

John O’Donohue

Nature, my teacher my school my temple my she-shed my friend my lover my wonder my wander my passion my peace my darkness my shining my opening my knowledge my quests my mystery my luminosity my path my return my budding my harvest my seasons my eternal my connection my uniqueness my blush my beauty my ravaging my savaging my circle my arrow my path my journey my longing my desire my tryst my trust my hope my haven my safety my risk my skip-itty-doo-dah the hair on my chinny-chin-chin my space my intimacy my solitude my family my found my faith my dancing my lame my music my words my rhythm my song my vision my sight my lost my found my sin my soul my tears my laughter my being my belonging my life my love my looking in my letting go my begging my abundance my start my stop my end my beginning my rising from the ashes my heart my skin my senses my fences my flash my fire my living my death my creator my Spirit my wound my healer my receiver my giver my adventure my wild my silence my sound my doo-be-doobie-do my fa-la-la-la my going my coming my heaven my home my place my resurrection my grounding my wings my births my deaths my everything

🌳

Amy Lloyd

By the stream I dream in calm delight, and watch as in a glass,

How the clouds like crowds of snowy-hued and white-robed maidens

pass,

And the water into ripples breaks and sparkles as it spreads,

Like a host of armored knights with silver helmets on their heads.

And I deem the stream an emblem fit of human life may go,

For I find a mind may sparkle much and yet but shallows show,

And a soul may glow with myriad lights and wondrous mysteries,

When it only lies a dormant thing and mirrors what it sees

❤️

By the Stream by Paul Laurence Dunbar

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