life: acoustic & amplified

poetry, quotes & thoughts about life

Archive for the category “beauty”

suit up


We drift through this gray, increasing nowhere

 Until we stand before a threshold we know

 We have to cross to come alive once more.
 May we have the courage to take the step

 Into the unknown that beckons us;

 Trust that a richer life awaits us there,

 That we will lose nothing

 But what has already died;

 Feel the deeper knowing in us sure

 Of all that is about to be born beyond

 The pale frames where we stayed confined,

 Not realizing how such vacant endurance

 Was bleaching our soul’s desire. 

❤️

    – John O’Donohue 


What are waves to rocks 

before they become 

the softness of sand…

Is that not love?

Whoever said ferocity 

cannot be kind

never saw the way a seed 

is destroyed as it 

comes alive.

     ~Joshua Israelievitch


If you want to succeed in your life, remember this phrase: The past does not equal the future. Because you failed yesterday; or all day today; or a moment ago; or for the last six months; the last sixteen years; or the last fifty years of life, doesn’t mean anything… All that matters is: 

What are you going to do, right now?  

     – Tony Robbins 


I am so tired of waiting,

Aren’t you,

For the world to become good

And beautiful and kind?

-Langston Hughes

(slowly) happy birthday to Me… 


Midnight poem

The clock has crossed the finish line 

of yesterday

and begun this beautiful new day

This very minute everything begins new

I start this day soft,

in the darkness,

adjusting to the new date,

this particular date, 

the date of my birth –

51 years ago now –

this year is passing quickly

I am living in this now,

in this wow! 

It’s all happening! 

No more filling time 

No more empty spaces 

No more waiting for…

I breathe my gratitude, 

float away on a smiling cloud

as I drift back to sleep 

🎂

AL


 I am a recovering addict- addicted to artifice, disguise, misidentification, distraction, substitute gratifications, materialism, being right, winning every silly battle. Now I want to be a re-uncovering addict- addicted to baring my naked soul for all to see, particularly me. I want to see straight through my armor to the essential being quivering below. Nothing to hide, no place to hide it.

💞

   – Jeff Brown


I hereby break all contracts I made unconsciously & consciously before I knew the depth of my own Spirit; the silent ones, the ones I inherited, passed down & accepted as my own from generation to generation.
I hereby severe all ties with that which holds me down & back, unable to see the glimmer of what I know to be true, whether by my own creation or by expectations tied like weights around my ankles by others lost in the sea of their own confused hearts.
I hereby reclaim my right to choose how my story unfolds, armed with creativity, a heart made of gold & reverent humility.
I hereby fully accept all of this living & what-is-yet-to-come with brash integrity & loving determination.
I hereby swear to use my superpowers for the love of all beings & I return anything that no longer serves my Higher & Lower Self (& the ones Caught-in-Between) with gratitude & consciousness.
I do this all with love, from the great source of it found in my very own beating heart.

❤️

      – Bryonie Wise



going on  



You have burned your bridges.

You have passed through the gate

marked “no return”

And for you there is no going back

No going back to the security of

the known, familiar house,

To the well-worn dispensations

and the threadbare coverings.

Now you are out there in uncharted

territory

heavy with threat and shadows not

yet entered.

The risks are high, and yet you

strike out boldly,

Guided only by unwavering conviction

And the longing for the true centre

of the land.

This is what it means to do a new

thing.

So, you travel lightly.

You are abandoned, given up in all

things

To the task that lies ahead.

Therefore, you may be exactly who

you are.

You have inhabited yourself,

You are at home,

And home is where you are,

Even if it is the desert.

No one can dispossess you of your own in-dwelling.

This is what it means to be free.

We stand, one foot upon the bridge,

Wondering if we too have the courage to go over

And strike the match behind us.

🔥

The Dream of Learning our True Name by Kathy Galloway 


Trees not yet leafed out,

the woods aren’t green,

just tiny flakes of green
in their childish little hands,

soft and small.

Something larger than them
from deep down stirs,

exceeds itself in them.

Among those who dare
a new thing

God grant me

such ancient courage.
__________________ 
Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net




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

needing a dull moment


There are times when I need to rest,

a sabbath of dullness,
because the rest of the time

I am walking around behind God,
even the stirred dust sparkling,

even the shadows gleaming,
God every instant saying

“Let there be light.
Let there be stone. This stone,

and this light laying on the stone.
Let there be this tree, this branch,

and each of these birds singing in it.
Let there be this bee, let there be its labor,

and the wonder of its coming and going.
Let there be this river, and its waters,

its springs and tributaries, and their flowing.
Let there be this person.

Let there be this hope unfolding in this heart.
Let there be this moment.

Yes! And now this one!”
It never stops.

It never stops.

__________________ 
Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net




poetry is not a luxury   – Audra Lourde


For a very long time we had these strange rules around prayers…we forgot the bow at the end of a thought, the lowering of not our head, or our shoulders , but our inner being. The way a heart can break at the sound of the word, Holy or Lord. The urgency of our words when we are lost in darkness or broken by grief. How words can be tangled in territory that seems foreign, but really, home doesn’t look like that at all. 

I sat outside near the pergala this morning, where the trumpet vine is greening with strength and its power to flow with tendrils over twenty feet of wood, and the cardinals came to sit near me on the yellow wicker chair. Their song blending into my skin and I could feel the beat of their hearts as prayers grew within me, touching their backs and stroking the song coming forth into the morning hours. The sun beat warmth down to the bone and the sphere of time and space slid to the side of the garden where purple salvia has grown to a foot, and all the words of prayer that flow as love from Spirit, out into the world, came like silence from the realm of one beam of light, and I heard, and I witnessed, and I prayed…where the bow meets the stillness, is where I stayed…

Beauty,

Donna Knutson



photos by Fisherman Dan @ Branford, CT


I wonder if writing this poem
will spill you out of me
through my fingertips
will the ink become your blood 
this paper your skin
for me to touch 
again and again?

I wonder if stretching my hands to the sky,
while standing on my tiptoes
will release you into the blue
so you can fly free with me
into the starry sky
discovering all the worlds we have inside?

I wonder if I stand as tall, and as still, as a tree
you will come to me
climb up inside me
twist your arms and legs into my branches 
hold me close and sleep with me always?

I wonder if I sing you a love song
if I will become a part your soul
and a part of mine
both of us sewn within the chords
of words and notes
absorbing our crazy love 
into our very dna? 
Will we ever begin becoming each other? 
Forever becoming each other’s other?
mirrors of beauty
dancing eternally 

within the aleph
where heaven meets the earth?

🌎

AL


Prayer comes in many forms. Beauty to bless the space between. 

make the most of it


Setting priorities is a difficult process…
No, it’s not!

That’s just what I keep saying. 

But, it’s really very simple –

Just this…
What is the most important thing(s) in my life?
How do I reorganize my life around 

the most important thing(s)?
Am I willing to do the work focused on that/those?
Those questions are on me. 

The answers are very clear,

very simple. 
YES! 
Ok, then…

Get busy

make your music happen 

Focus 

Work

Do it!

This is it!

Set your sites…

Now…

Go…

💃🏻

AL





spring slowly but surely


The trees here are still mostly bare,

their infinite fingers of resolute patience.

They are in no hurry. What will come, 

will.
South of here it’s different, and farther north. 

But this is here. 
On some twigs the tenderest green

emerges, a different green, and fragile

as new things are.
Without yet the singing, buzzing and sweetness

they gather life in near-freezing wind, bare,

or nearly so.
Sap runs. You can’t see it.

Small things underground shift,

and something larger than all this.

Tomorrow is more open than the western sky,

moving.

__________________ 

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net



photos above by Fisherman Dan @ Branford, CT

🌾

If you have become ash,

Then wait you become a rose again.

And do not remember how often you have become ash

But how often you were reborn in ashes to a new rose.

🌹

~ Rumi


I’ve been paying attention this spring

my current obsession is 

the dogwoods birthing 

it’s been a patient process

over the past couple of weeks

it all started with tiny beads on the end of bare branches

every day they appear a bit more 

they’re almost fully blooming now

my favorite tree is early in my walk

it’s mainly white with pink centers

but three large branches are pink with white centers 

it’s simply beautiful

the magnolias came 

and went quickly this year

the weeping cherries

are currently bawling their pink tears 

falling in puddles on the ground

I find them on my shoulders

in my hair

This slow spring is reminding me

not to rush

just allow

beauty in all she is

knows herself

everything we love

is always

right on time

🌳

AL

suddenly


simple

yet so very complex

the layers of this human experience 

energy

emotional 

baggage

layers

fears

behavior

we struggle with virtues

our humanity

our ego

our need to be accepted

with family dynamics

childhood evils

haunt us

like fairytales

we create stories

we sabotage our own living

trying to heal

to find acceptance

to be loved

to figure out our path

to untangle our pain

our bad choices

the choices of others

our destructive relationships

suddenly after an eternity

a lightening bolt hits

clarity comes

we see why

we let go

we forgive

as fall into a deep pool

of peace

where we begin again

from this place

to build new stories

and make new dreams

this will be our new platform of learning

until it happens again

and again

and so our story unfolds

always leading us towards our best selves

if we will just be open

and do the hard work

of surrender

of resilience 

of continuing 

of allowing ourselves

of becoming ourselves

knowing we are 

strong 

and we are each

beloved

❤️

AL


our happiness

was when the

lights were

out

the whole city

in darkness

& we drove north

to our friend’s

yellow apt.

where she had

power & we

could work

later we stayed

in the darkened
 apt. 

you sick

in bed & me

writing ambitiously

by candle light

in thin blue
 books

your neighbor had

a generator &

after a while

we had a little

bit of light

I walked the

dog & you

were still

a little bit 
sick

we sat on a stoop

one day 

in the
 late afternoon

we had very little
 money. 

enough for

a strong cappuccino

which we shared

sitting there 

&
 suddenly 

the
 city was lit.
🌃

our happiness by Eileen Myles


blowing in the wind


And you have only just now

accepted the grace!

These fragments of your life,

the broken lines,

the missing phrases,

endings that don’t quite

rhyme, beginnings

that die in non sequitur,

stillborn ellipses

of awkward syntax

silently holding hands 

as you disappear

around corners together

alone again, until

suddenly it falls 

into place

as a single poem

needing no interpretation

because the mystery

of your beauty fills

all its empty spaces…

☺️

Fred LaMotte


Good poetry begins with

the lightest touch,

a breeze arriving from nowhere,

a whispered healing arrival,

a word in your ear,

a settling into things,

then like a hand in the dark

it arrests the whole body,

steeling you for revelation.
In the silence that follows

a great line

you can feel Lazarus

deep inside

even the laziest, most deathly afraid

part of you,

lift up his hands and walk toward the light.

  The Lightest Touch by David Whyte

what if?


May this be a morning of innocent beginning,

 When the gift within you slips clear 

 Of the sticky web of the personal

 With its hurt and hauntings,

 And fixed fortress corners,
A morning when you become a pure vessel

 For what wants to ascend from silence,
May your imagination know

 The grace of perfect danger,
To reach beyond imitation,

 And the wheel of repetition,
Deep into the call of all 

 The unfinished and unsolved
Until the veil of the unknown yields

 And something original begins 

 To stir toward your senses

 And grow stronger in your heart… 

💞

John O’Donohue
Excerpt from, ‘For the Artist at the Start of Day’

 BENEDICTUS (Europe) / TO BLESS THE SPACE BETWEEN US (US)


…quietly just now, just one word:

Believe. 

Believe the best.

Believe the hard is being worked out for good.

Believe the best is still to come. 

Believe in the One who is Best.

Believe. [Mark9:23]

💞

   Ann Voskamp @ aholyexperience.com



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