life: acoustic & amplified

poetry, quotes & thoughts about life

Archive for the category “beauty”

pieces & parts 

 

The teacher asks a question.

You know the answer, 

you suspect

you are the only one in the classroom

who knows the answer, 

because the person

in question is yourself, 

and on that

you are the greatest living authority,

but you don’t raise your hand.

You raise the top of your desk

and take out an apple.

You look out the window.

You don’t raise your hand and there is

some essential beauty in your fingers,

which aren’t even drumming,

 but lie

flat and peaceful.

🙏🏻

The Hand by Mary Ruefle

 

 I try to clean up
pick up pieces of myself

from all over the frozen ground

Who knew hearts can turn into

Slivers of glass

dangerous to handle

Slice my fingers

I rub tears from my eyes

and find toxic rivers

Red flows 

Staining all of life

Small killing shards everywhere

Thousands

Maybe millions

They stick to the inside of my chest

My throat

Puncture my lungs

Settle in my stomach 

as I try to eat breakfast 

It’s getting harder and harder to speak

To breathe

To stand

I fall face first into a pool 

Of freezing water

The glass becomes ice 

Eventually I crawl out of the water

but the ice remains 

a solid block I live with

for 9 years 

Containment my highest priority

Walking dead 

until that box breaks open

I begin to grieve

and begin slowly melting 

Fusing shattered pieces

absorbing them into 

the fabric of my living

Im still working on it

Still looking for the fire of love

to refine the gold

Scars show the hearts broken places

for glimmers of light to shine through

As grieving does it’s healing work

And I become human 

Once again

❤️

AL

   

   
  
  

 

sometimes on a greyhound  

 

 A life without love is a waste. “Should I look for spiritual love, or material, or physical love?”, don’t ask yourself this question. Discrimination leads to discrimination. Love doesn’t need any name, category or definition. Love is a world itself. Either you are in, at the center…either you are out, yearning.
❤️

~ Shams

  
to learn to trust

we must be trustworthy. 

trust is a choice. 

not an easy choice. 

but the best choice. 

trust is not naive 

trust is 

brutal 

reckless

ruthless

courageous 

strong

brave

trust takes the teeth out of insanity 

trust allows us to make good choices 

trust gives us the ability to know wisdom

trust opens the door to love

trust brings healing to our lives

trust is a gift

that must start with yourself 

just trust yourself a little bit

learn to be trustworthy to your soul

soon you will be able to give some to others

then, maybe, even the world

💞

AL

  
Your vision will become clear only when you can look into your own heart. The one who looks outside, dreams; the one who looks inside, awakens.  

❤️

    -Carl Jung

  
I want to both awaken and dream, to see all that is in my heart (and yes, that means the dark gunky stuff as well as the wonderful shiny stuff) and see the world in a way that helps me contribute to dreams of sustainable peace and justice. And here it is- the gift of another day to begin again. 

❤️

  – Oriah Mountain Dreamer

  

The surface is always blank.

The real, submerged. 
Look down into that sky,

where beneath a vague cloud flashes,
—is it above or below?—

created, given, waiting.
There is another way,

another side of your little boat.
Beneath your dreary, fruitless nights

something graced awaits,
abundance exceeding your capacity, blessing

at which you laugh in wonder and fright,
a gift that bears you to the breaking point,

a net swelled with light and glory,
and not by luck, but given in love: a presence, 

a companionship you hadn’t recognized.
Heaven is offered, hearts are restored

in something as simple as a broiled fish, shared.
But first you learn a new way,

another side, the unrecognized friend.
And then, after the gift, the revelation,

you learn a new way, another side.
The Mystery doesn’t leave you.

It leads.

__________________ 
Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net

  
find photo sources at http://www.pinterest.com

sweetness: honey, tangerines and black-faced sheep

 

On this bitter-sweet morning

I spot the jar, 

and slowly, 

deliberately,

lick the white-golden sticky. 

Spun honey directly from the spoon. 

Remembering…

my Grandma Duvall 

always had spun honey, 

and so many other beautiful treats,

at her house.

As a little girl,

I loved it…

I love it still –

tho it goes right to my head,

and makes me a bit dizzy. 

Buzzz…..Buzzzzz 
Mature tastebuds know…

there must be balance. 

Wisdom is learning to choose balance.

I think of how kind words are compared to honey. 

How important it is to choose the sweet,

right in the middle of the bitter,

the choice is all mine. 

I suck the last bit off the spoon,

and move along into my day,

carrying the smile,

the sticky, sweet, stolen glow,

of that moment with me. 
A bit of healing sweetness

right there in the kitchen. 

A bit of amazing grace 

right in the mess of my moments. 

A bit of heaven, 

right here and now, 

on a mixed – up Monday. 

🐝

AL

  
To love everything, not just parts … 

To love all of yourself, not just certain traits … 

To rest in not knowing … 
To carry the cross 

and to lay your burden down … 
To savor the medicine blue of moon, 

the fierce sugar of tangerine … 
To be a Christ unto others, 

a Christ unto one’s self … 
To laugh … 
To be shameless, wild, and silly … 
To know—fully, headlong, 

without compunction—the ordinary magic 

of our beautiful human bodies … 

these seem worthwhile pursuits, life-long tasks.   

All is grace. 

selected from/ A Poem for My Daughter by Teddy Macker

  
It is the work of feeling,

to undo expectation.

A black-faced sheep

looks back at you as you pass

and your heart is startled

as if by the shadow

of someone once loved.
Neither comforted by this

nor made lonely.

Only remembering

that a self in exile 

is still a self,

as a bell unstruck for years

is still a bell. 

🔔

Sheep by Jane Hirshfield

 

photo sources found at http://www.pinterest.com 

reborned

 

The days are cold and brown,

Brown fields,  no sign of green,
Brown twigs,  not even swelling,
And dirty snow in the woods.
But as the dark flows in

The tree frogs begin

Their shrill sweet singing,

And we lie on our beds

Through the ecstatic night,

Wide awake,  cracked open. 

There will be no going back.

April in Maine by May Sarton

 

 Though I know better
the trees look dead.

Here and there a little prison 

of ice is forgiven.

Little green hands reach up through leafmold

and I can’t let go.

A door opens inside me
I didn’t know was there.

________________________

Weather Report
Possibility,

which only recently 

seems to have become possible

though it has been riding upper currents

from the other side of the world.

A clear front develops

as everything emerges from within.

Expect variable conditions,

and completely predictable

intermittent surprises.
__________________  

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net

  
 It seems we have made pain 

some kind of mistake, 

like having it 

is somehow wrong. 
Don’t let them fool you— 

pain is a part of things. 
But remember, dear Ellie, 

the compost down in the field: 

if the rank and dank and dark 

are handled well, not merely discarded, 

but turned and known and honored, 

they one day come to beds of rich earth 

home even to the most delicate rose. 

🌹

selected from A Poem for My Daughter by Teddy Macker

 

 I am ready
when a voice has spoken,

a path opened its arms,

ready to resolve and to follow.

And if not I am ready to be still,

and more still yet, 

to wait,

to shed my wants and fears,

my wishes and words, and even 

the words I have for the silence

and for you, 

until not I but you speak

and I follow.

And when I have resolved,

and I am sure of myself, 

and my wishes reappear 

in the costume of devotion,

help me to return 

to be still and listen again.

Another Eve. Another Day. 

I yield to you fully,

and ask you only 

to help me to return

and to return

and to return,

to be still and ready

each day. 

__________________ 

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net

today’s study’s 


Some people move through your life

like the perfume of peonies, heavy

and sensual and lingering.

Some people move through your life

like the sweet musky scent of cosmos

so delicate if you sniff twice, it’s gone.

Some people occupy your life

like moving men who cart off

couches, pianos and break dishes.

Some people touch you so lightly you

are not sure it happened. Others leave

you flat with footprints on your chest.

Some are like those fall warblers

you can’t tell from each other even

though you search Petersen’s.

Some come down hard on you like

a striking falcon and the scars remain

and you are forever wary of the sky.

We all are waiting rooms at bus

stations where hundreds have passed

through unnoticed and others

have almost burned us down

and others have left us clean and new

and others have just moved in.

👫👬👫👭👫

The visible and the in- by Marge Piercy


my fellow exalted, beautiful beings,

full of grace,

as we touch and pass,

respectfully remember to forget:
surrender struggles to catch it’s breath,

then falls soft

as evening prayers at twilight,

gathering into the corners of our hearts

before falling full onto the center of our living circle,

free and happy as ‪Friday night‬.

next morning’s sun fills us,

each day, each season.

nurture moves with grace,

evolving slowly thru

our caring hands,

our grieving hearts,

our shared experience,

our acts of courage,

the healing salt of our tears.

with pieces of our true love,

we fly flags,

of prayer,

of peace,

of poems,

of our own making

to heal the worlds –

within us/

without us.

we allow –

simply complex.

we understand –

clearly unclear.

we stand and fill our world with the beauty

of sound,

of hum,

of voice,

of music,

protecting us

from lesser gods,

the terror all around.

love is the shield,

love is the answer,

love is the choice,

love is our glory,

our salvation,

crowning us

sons and daughters

of stars and starships.

at times,

in spite of our broken pieces,

shattered places,

our refusal to believe,

even our own darkened hearts.

astonishing,

isn’t it?

ok, now forget it all –

and practice tenderness.

💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻

AL

 

meanwhile, back at the reservation…

  


 

 

 The World Is in Pencil
—not pen. 

It’s got

that same silken
dust about it, 

doesn’t it,

that same sense 

of
having been roughed

onto paper 

even as it was planned.

It had to be a labor
of love. 

It must’ve taken its author

some time, some shove.

I’ll bet it felt good
in the hand—

the o

of the ocean, 

and
the and 

of the land.

✏️

The World Is in Pencil by Todd Boss

  
Easter God,

roll away the stone 

from the tomb of my heart.
Let the morning light 

of your love

shine in.
As light forgives darkness,

fills it, 

transforms it,
your love forgives me,

fills me, 

transforms me.
I am not among the dead—

my guilt, my shame, my fear.

You have brought me to life. 
The light of your love raises me,

sets me free,

leads me out into this new day,
beloved,

living, 

new.
__________________  

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net

  
   
 This is why we survive the winter

The world shows off

Flowers are bursting color

Flaming forsythia frames the river

Fuzzy trees and bushes make me squirmy happy 

The sky beams blue

The water waves joyfully

The sand gladly greets, 

us with our winter legs

(except for the hardcore tanning bed crowd – already too brown for the rest of us)

little girls and their tattooed fathers pick up shells and rocks

to fill purple buckets of heartwarming, serious cuteness

coconut oil floats deliciously on the warm breeze 

I can’t stop smiling

Spring has sprung

Let love begin

🐰

AL

  

2…the space between  

 

 “For us women the spiritual life, in one way, is easier than for men. Only a certain temperament of man can surrender like we can surrender. And spiritual life is surrender. Bhai Sahib said, ‘Women are taken up through the path of love, for love is a feminine mystery.’ He said we women do not need many spiritual practices. We need only to renounce. Renounce what? Renounce the world. Complete renunciation, which is the most difficult thing for the woman, is necessary. I had to do it—to give everything away. Bhai Sahib said to me, “You cannot say to the Beloved, ‘Oh I love you, but this is mine, and so far and no further.'” You have to give everything away, including yourself, in complete surrender.”
💞

~ Irina Tweedie (20th century Russian Sufi mystic)

 

  

 

 

Yesterday, this poem (below) resurfaced. I wrote it a while ago, after a disappointment. It immediately spoke up and wanted to appear on the blog…I said, hmmmm, do I really want to go there in public? It kept saying, yes (and refusing to be ignored). OK. Surrender brings humility. Rejection beings a chance to learn new layers. Love, and life, require courage. 

 So, I am posting this poem for whoever it is for…
 

 have you ever given,
or received,

a gift –

unwanted,

or misunderstood?
We’ve built a whole retail myth of love 

from giving, 

mostly, 

unwanted gifts. 

‘Re-gifting’ is a popular side effect 

of things taken,

out of obligation,

by others who don’t want, 

or think they need,

the present presented. 
It’s a thing in relationships as well,

it takes two to tango. 

If one person is wanting something,

the other is not able to understand,

or accept, 

it just doesn’t work. 
This week I experienced a return. 

My greatest gift,

the gift of me, 

held out to another. 

My gift was not wanted,

so, eventually, I withdrew

this large, tall gift of 

myself, 

complete with all I have to bring to a relationship. 

I wanted to share this with someone,

who I love,

but that person doesn’t want the same thing I want. 

This gift of sharing all of the various shades, shapes and colors of our souls 

in this amazing thing called life. 
One of my lessons,

hardest learned –

you can’t give someone something, 

if they don’t want it. 
I have become mindfully committed to 

not allowing a glimpse of possibility,

or potential,

to derail me from what I really want.
Never. never. never….

settle,

Never. never. never….

quit!
You can make lemonade from lemons, 

but

you can’t make a silk purse

out of a sow’s ear. 
This week I received blessed closure. 

The final collapse of space held for another to enter

The invitation explored, 

expired, 

I moved into new, beautiful space. 

No more allowing,

or trying to give myself

to someone who didn’t really want what I have to give. 

It’s not wrong,

it’s just painful. 
Unconditional love is free,

living and giving it 

requires responsibility to living my highest and best 

and requiring that in return. 

I believe in it,

completely, 

however, 

it will cost you,

change you,

require much more than cheaper versions of love. 

Not everyone can accept the responsibility of this gift,

which always requires the best of us,

the same in gift in return,

knowing its value,

tenderest of care,

thinking of the other, 

stepping out of our ego, 

into its vast ocean of mystery,

life changing grace. 

This week I followed the gift full circle. 
I woke up a bit sad, 

truthfully, for both of us,

but new,

released from the wish of what was not to be. 
I hope to be able to re-gift it soon,

to someone 

who truly knows how to value it,

nurture it,

return it to me,

equally,

with the dream,

the vision,

of what could be,

if we build an ark of this love,

sail into the mystic

and invite the world 

to the best party ever…

Water into wine,

has always been,

just the beginning of miracles!!!!!

❤️💔❤️

AL

  

Good Friday 

 

 Copperleaf Lane is dancing in white,
like a row of brides,

as ready, 

as they possibly could be 

to say, I do. 

I drive through the flower strewn pathway

feeling special,

like life is unfolding,

just for the love of me.  

I am beloved, 

a daughter of graces,

twirling within this beauty,

this bounty,

the world’s abundance falling freely around me. 

I sing,

la dee da dee da

You keep filling my senses,

you keep walking towards me,

smiling,

that beautiful heart of yours,

held gently, 

tenderly,

within your hands –

the perfect gift

for a girl like me. 

Heaven is holding its breath…

counting intensely…

1…

2..
❤️

AL

  
  
TURNING TOWARD HOME 
The moment you have spoken the exact words that describe your distance from where you want to be, the moment you have uttered the exact aching dimensionality of your own exile, you have already turned around, faced the other way and taken the first steps on the long awaited journey home… 

🌳

David Whyte

THE THREE MARRIAGES

Re-imagining Work, Self and Relationship

   yesterday I was born a leaf

a small fragile tender wisp

trembling as I hung on the vine

yesterday I was a gust of air

short lived, but not insignificant 

full of bone rattling cold and hat disturbing bravado

yesterday I was a large, slow, snow flake

plopping down like a wet goose feather

making the world a magical place

yesterday I was a world made of glass

lying shattered on the floor

hoping to be recycled into a new and useful object

yesterday I was various people

a student, a host, a friend, a lover

feeling my way into the next moment hoping to find a way home

yesterday I stood tall as a tree

proud yet with humble confidence 

accepting what winter brought, gently weeping, 

embracing this brand new life bringing

spring

🌿

AL
 

here’s the thing…

what’s a girl to do with all this happiness?

what sort of containers can hold this amount of wild joy?

will howling at the moon help disperse it into the world?

or dancing in a beautiful fountain, with you, bring sanity?

what if I shout it proud to everyone I pass on street? 

will they clap to hear my good news? 

will you wish me happy for every morning and evening? 

will you take a train, plane or automobile to see me? 

will you hold me & tell me that I’m the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen?

will you love me with all you are for everything I am right now,

and ever will be becoming?

living well is my best revenge

won’t it would be nice to share this happiness? 

do wild and crazy things?

come on, everybody,

let’s let joy flow in big puddles all around us,

till we jump like children,

till we swim in the ocean of all this blessed grace

🌫

AL

black n white

 

find more amazement from Tyler Spangler @  http://tylerspangler.com
🌗
I reason, Earth is short —
And Anguish — absolute —
And many hurt,
But, what of that? 

I reason, we could die —
The best Vitality
Cannot excel Decay,
But, what of that? 

I reason that in Heaven —
Somehow, it will be even —
Some new Equation, given —
But, what of that?

🌗

I reason, Earth is short… (301) by Emily Dickinson

 

 
I sink back upon the ground, expecting to die. A voice speaks out of my ear, You are not going to die, you are being changed into a zebra. You will have black and white stripes up and down your back and you will love people as you do not now. That is why you will be changed into a zebra that people will tame and exhibit in a zoo. You will be a favorite among children and you will love the children in return whom you do not love now. Zoo keepers will make a pet of you because of your round, sad eyes and musical bray, and you will love your keeper as you do not now. All is well, then, I tell myself silently, listening to the voice in my ear speak to me of my future. And what will happen to you, voice in my ear, I ask silently, and the answer comes at once: I will be your gentle, musical bray that will help you as a zebra all your days. I will mediate between the world and you, and I will learn to love you as a zebra whom I did not love as a human being.

🌗

I sink back upon the ground… by David Ignatow

🌗

 
In “Farewell to Arms” Ernest Hemingway wrote, “The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry.”

       – Ocean Palmer quotes EH   
   
photos found at http://www.pinterest.com

 

Little bird why you singin’ that sad song?

Makin’ me cry as I sing along

Did you know that your cage doors open wide?

All ya gotta do is just step outside. 
Can’t nobody stop you
Cause you were born to fly

Til you touch the sky

Friends with every tree

You were born to be free

And I’ll dance along 

To your freedom song
Little girl why you singin’ that sad song?

Cause he robbed you, now you’ve got no home

Think you’re stuck, locked inside of this damn cage

broken heart, broken dreams upon this page 
Little boy I know that song you sing

She’s not right, you can do anything. 

Cause your so much stronger than these chains. 

you are free and your freedom bells just rang
Can’t nobody stop you
Cause you were born to fly

Til you touch the sky

Friends with every tree

You were born to be free

And I’ll dance along 

To your freedom song
If we don’t use it

We ain’t free

It’s our choice 

It’s up to each

If we don’t choose it

We won’t ever be

Everything we were born to be
Can’t nobody stop us
Cause we were born to fly

Til we touch the sky

Friends with every tree

We were born to be free

Won’t you dance along 

To our freedom song

🌗

AL

open sesame

  
Yes
I stretch out

my arms
and bear 

your cross
Your fear

that wells up and overflows
your sorrow 

that haunts
the most awful pain

you endure
and you cause

I embrace
I gather into myself

with open arms
to swallow it

in love
I drown your No in my Yes

to a deeper Yes
The grave itself I smother 

in love
until there is

nothing left
but Yes

and still
even later and always

my open arms

__________________ 

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net

 
Hearts out searching our for home
that one place where we belong
it’s a cold dark night my baby
but I have seen the light
home is your arms 
holding me tight

deeper and deeper into the beautiful 
waking my heart to sing this song
fly with me as flames grow higher
passion flaming deep desire
touching us on this dark night

there is hope in this moment 
there is hope in the sky
when days go dark and lonely baby
as long as stars are burning bright
there is hope
there is hope 
they burn for you
oh baby 
I burn for you

There are times when life goes hazy
that place we all fall down
life can be so hard my baby
will you hold the line tonight?
open up your heart and fight 

there is hope in this moment 
there is hope in the sky
when days go dark and lonely baby
as long as stars are burning bright
there is hope
there is hope 
they burn for you
oh baby 
I burn for you

we can do it together
love’s the place where dreams come true
we can do it together 
I believe we can make it
through 

❤️

AL

  

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