How you choose to remember — determines how the broken dismembered things in your life will be remade and re-membered.
You have to choose to intentionally remember God’s goodness, if you want your brokenness to be re-membered into wholeness.
– Ann Voskamp
The real things haven’t changed. It is still best to be honest and truthful; to make the most of what we have; to be happy with simple pleasures; and have courage when things go wrong.
– Laura Ingalls Wilder
lost
the line
of development and decency
I will wake you up
just when you get to sleep
good and proper
to tell you a bedtime story
to remind you joy is everywhere
there’s a bit of scandal
among the bohemian wildflowers
whispers concerning my impending number
advanced imperfections looming ahead
speaking of cool, calm and collected
I laugh with delicious delight
at wondrous traditions
such as chocolate cake
and making wishes
I love life with all its messy, gory glory
Love is our name.
We are the soul of the soul of the world around us
Yet let none of us believe we have power to change another
only the responsibility to inspire each other
to be our very best selves
to recognize beauty as beauty
Share your favorite toast with me:
to friends and foes
and each one I’ll never know –
I honor your courage to live out loud
may we all find ourselves more than we ever expected
hear! hear!
❤️
Amy Lloyd
I decline all offers to live in a house of reasons and proofs
I refuse to live a moment without the faith of doubt
I reject staying in a box of absolute truths
I deny my own dogged-dogma of black and white knowledge
I challenge myself continually to keep letting go of what I know for sure
I intentionally say no to my own sense of pride and privilege
I humbly confess my own lack of humble speech
I gratefully open myself to the vast newness of each day
I necessarily choose to rely on God rather than myself
I stand on the foundational stone of believing life is always for me even when I can’t see it
I embrace change, understanding its value, even when it’s a struggle and feels difficult for me
I bow on the shores of the ocean of goodness and pain as find my place among all the grains of sand
I sit in the most comfy seat of miraculous realization:
I am a drop of the ocean – I am the ocean in a drop
I stand on the circle of the earth and speak to the wind and the fire, the stars and the dirt
I am water – I flow
I am earth – I grow
I am that I am that I am that I am
abundance in every breath
ashes to ashes
dust to dust
I rise
I fall
I live
I die
I love
I love
I follow the light
I follow the light
❤️
Amy Lloyd
VOCATION
When I discovered
the emerald in my chest
I gave up every profession,
all wealth, adventure, fame,
just to follow the humblest
vocation: I became
a Jewel Polisher.
Keep moving the soft
old cloth of breathing
over the precious gemstone
lodged deeper inside you
than your name, your hope,
your story, until
you know beyond thought
and confusion
that the meadow, the forest,
the mountain in its
wreathe of clouds,
even the Beloved’s face,
are simply one
edgeless brilliant
reflection
of your heart.
❤️
– Fred LaMotte
Be with me, Beauty, for the fire is dying;
My dog and I are old, too old for roving.
Man, whose young passion sets the spindrift flying,
Is soon too lame to march, too cold for loving.
I take the book and gather to the fire,
Turning old yellow leaves; minute by minute
The clock ticks to my heart. A withered wire,
Moves a thiun ghost of music in the spinet.
I cannot sail your seas, I cannot wander
Your cornland, nor your hill-land, nor your valleys
Ever again, nore share the battle yonder
Where the young knight the broken squadron rallies.
Only stay quiet while my mind remembers
The beauty of fire from the beauty of embers.
Beauty, have pity! for the strong have power,
The rich their wealth, the beautiful their grace,
Summer of man its sunlight and its flower.
Spring-time of man, all April in a face.
Only, as in the jostling in the Strand,
Where the mob thrusts, or loiters, or is loud,
The beggar with the saucer in his hand
Asks only a penny from the passing crowd,
So, from this glittering world with all its fashion,
Its fire, and play of men, its stir, its march,
Let me have wisdom, Beauty, wisdom and passion,
Bread to the soul, rain when the summers parch.
Give me but these, and though the darkness close
Even the night will blossom as the rose.
🌹
On Growing Old by John Masefield
Magic is all around you, even within you, don’t be afraid to let it show.
Watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places.
– Roald Dahl
Believe in magic and you will find it. Discover the magic within yourself and share it with the world. It will celebrate with you 🌈
⁃ Calvin Chou
It is more onerous
than the rites of beauty
or housework, harder than love.
But you expect it of me casually,
the way you expect the sun
to come up, not in spite of rain
or clouds but because of them.
And so I smile, as if my own fidelity
to sadness were a hidden vice—
that downward tug on my mouth,
my old suspicion that health
and love are brief irrelevancies,
no more than laughter in the warm dark
strangled at dawn.
Happiness. I try to hoist it
on my narrow shoulders again—
a knapsack heavy with gold coins.
I stumble around the house,
bump into things.
Only Midas himself
would understand.
Linda Pastan, “The Obligation to be Happy
There are monks who sing
for the laity—May you be happy,
and today I sing it, too,
though I have not been
anointed and have no special
sway, but I stitch my song
into the morning’s ferocious wind
and send it everywhere,
May you be well.
The wind rips the words
from my lips. I sing them
again. This is all
we have in this world,
the way we choose
to meet it.
~ Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
I only began to relax into wholeness when I learned to embrace the impure along with the pure, seeing that they are both made of exactly the same energy, just as the petal and thorn are pervaded by the same sap. This was the hardest lesson, and the easiest.
– Fred LaMotte
One of the lies would make it out that nothing
Ever presents itself before us twice.
Where would we be at last if that were so?
Our very life depends on everything’s
Recurring till we answer from within.
The thousandth time may prove the charm.
– Robert Frost, “Snow”
Little birds
fly into clear windows
Stunned
Panting
They rest
Until they can fly
again
We, too, are
little birds
Fragile and, sometimes,
Stunned by life,
By the sheer pain
Of the brutal hits we take
Never expecting
Love to be so cruel
Can we stop?
Rest a while
Until we’re able to fly again?
It may be that the only way
To survive
Is to rest in the shade
While our angels
Protect us from predators
from Morning to night
Until we are strong enough
To, once again,
Spread our wings
To the sky
And fly
💞
Amy Lloyd
‘Fragile’
We are fragile. You and me.
Though we act strong,
our lives are
held together with
thoughts of where
we might be tomorrow.
And of disappointed
yesterdays.
At any moment we might shatter.
We might fall to our knees
weighed down by the terror
of being so far from
our own control.
Dare we look up, we’d not know
where to go or what to do.
We are fragile. You and me.
If we were to turn to each other,
we might see the whole world
on their knees.
Hurting, and seemingly
alone.
But none of us are.
We are fragile together.
+
Nic Askew
more here http://nicaskew.com
This world doesn’t improve by demanding perfection. It improves when we reach through our armor and touch another with tenderness. It improves when we bust through the walls of our conditioning, and try a new way of being on for size. It improves when we work through our unresolved shadow and share what little light we can find. It is the small, positive steps that we take when we are at war with ourselves that change the world.
– Jeff Brown
awe…
examination…
it keeps appearing
again…
I delete…
again…
I delete…
again…the same…
haven’t I already written this poem?
haven’t I already done that particular prompt?
What is left that I haven’t taken out…
haven’t examined properly?
There are always layers
As Shrek reminded me,
‘We are onion’…
layers…
illusions
shadows
truth left to excavate
even after we think we’re done
we’ll get walloped again
more healing to be won
new motivations to uncover
ever expanding mystery to be discovered
always more
and more
God keeps getting bigger
the more I examine myself
I reduce
as I open.
I hope to stay in this mode of self realization…
growth…
I keep singing, ‘humble me…’
reminders before me
my best self emerges within this process
send it again…
remind me again…
💞
Amy Lloyd
The clouds keep finding their way into the shape of hearts
Oh, those beauteous clouds, in that soul aching cinema-sky
I feast, like the country girl I am
morning and evening I offer my prayers as easy breath
I walk as gift in gift
I cleanse
I clear
I gather
I call
I calm
I glow
I glitter
I shine
I commemorate
I celebrate
I light fires
I hallelujah all over my day
I let go of the old
as I enter full into new territory
I sing it over and over,
It’s good to be alive
right about now (uh huh)
💞
Amy Lloyd
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
working together
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,
are gone
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.
💞
Amy Lloyd
Lost
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
Blessed Beltane- a celebration of the fire that cleanses, the spark that ignites our passion and purpose and ecstatic longing. I wrote this on Beltane many years ago:
The Moment Before
I want to touch the sharp taste of the moment in between, the second just before, the place where the breath catches in anticipation.
It’s the scent of heat held in the air between two mouths reaching for each other, hungry. The shine of moisture on slightly parted lips just before it melts into the wetness of the other.
It is the skin that tingles waiting, fine hairs at attention, reaching aching. It is the places that have not yet been touched but know they will be. It is the smooth, quivering paleness of the inner thigh as the outer is stroked and kneaded. The muscles of the abdomen tightening the back arching slightly, begging: come here, quickly, slowly.
There, in that moment, do not take your eyes from mine. I am here, awake, reaching to be met. Do not touch me and keep your soul out of your fingertips. Die into me or do not come into me at all. Ever after is in this moment happily or not.
Sacrifice the daydream. Dare to hold the desire for a great love. Be with me.
~Oriah “Mountain Dreamer” House
I hope that in the future they invent a small golden light that follows you everywhere and when something is about to end, it shines brightly so you know it’s about to end.
And if you’re never going to see someone again, it’ll shine brightly and both of you can be polite and say, “It was nice to have you in my life while I did, good luck with everything that happens after now.”
And maybe if you’re never going to eat at the same restaurant again, it’ll shine and you can order everything off the menu you’ve never tried. Maybe, if someone’s about to buy your car, the light will shine and you can take it for one last spin. Maybe, if you’re with a group of friends who’ll never be together again, all your lights will shine at the same time and you’ll know, and then you can hold each other and whisper, “This was so good. Oh my God, this was so good.”
~ I Wrote This For You by Iain S. Thomas
life: acoustic & amplified 