There are always distractions
among the clover
Another fine place to stop and smell the roses
each day a discovery of new words
adventures in new worlds right outside our front doors
I stand beside this ocean listening to eternity flow
blending with the beauty of all these brilliant,
intelligent arguments inside my own head
reasoned scientific analysis within my own practical mind
dead-set against against the passionate classically romantic poet of some other-mystical dimensional me
I smile at each of these internal game-players
Intrigued by their genius
at their knowledge of how to win me over
How each have the ability to become the champion of this moment
How either can defeat me so completely and instantly
How each of them know how to hold the golden title belt
aloft over my unconscious
Today I wink at them,
I praise them for their wisdom –
then I tell them in no uncertain terms…
the competition is over…
we are now all on the same side
as a new elite team of super heroes
Avenger-like, in some respects,
tho all our hiding of ourself,
our sparkly masks,
and colorful costumes,
we stand here
in the sand of this moment
barefoot and nearly naked
soaking up each others sin
breaking bread as friends
sharing our abundance with our seagull handlers
who tell us our new names
and give us the secret mission directives
Our Main Mission Top 10 are actually deceptively simple –
1. heal our own wounds.
2. smile from our eyes.
3. pay attention to the beauty.
4. share love with everyone.
5. enjoy the journey.
6. keep listening.
7. tell people everything we know.
8. work easy. play easy.
9. say ‘thank you’ for every little thing.
10. never stop the music.
Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you.
If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You musts let it find you.
by David Wagoner
There are those who pride themselves on being ‘activists,’ some believing that their actions are more significant than what other people do. But who can judge the value of an act?
The old Bulgarian cobbler – some say he is one of only seven Tzaddiks left on earth – sews a new sole to a grizzled boot. He is so present, and so deep in merry silence, he doesn’t realize that he stitches heaven to earth, allowing us to survive another day.
The pole star seems to rest in stillness all night. Yet it streaks at inconceivable speed through the heavens.
A tiny emerald moth alights on the lupine in a mountain meadow, folding its wings in repose. It’s faint pulse sends out a thread of causation that will finally bring a tempest to the other side of the planet.
The child falls and scrapes her knee. The mother who treats her wound, not only with ointment but with immeasurable tenderness, lightens the burden of all who suffer, though we never know quite why we sigh and sense such nameless elevation.
If you take – no, receive – a breath with infinite gratitude – for we are not capable of doing infinite works, but we are capable of being infinitely grateful – this breath may feel like the faintest caress on your breastbone. But can you be sure it isn’t a mighty wind from the Creator, sweeping the world, renewing mountains, forests, and rivers, restoring the Spirit to every heart that beats?
In the words of Thich Nhat Hanh, “Drink your tea slowly, as if it is the axis on which the earth revolves.”
⁃ Fred LaMotte