life: acoustic & amplified

poetry, quotes & thoughts about life

Archive for the category “Grieving”

world changer 

You have to go through the falling down in order to learn to walk. It helps to know that you can survive it. That’s an education in itself.

    – Carol Burnett

A KEY TO HAPPINESS — SPIRITUAL HUMILITY

So many religions and philosophies, ancient and modern, set forth paths to happiness, fulfillment and the end of suffering. Many of these paths are filled with great wisdom and deep spiritual insights that have helped countless people throughout the ages. I have been inspired by so many of these spiritual traditions; and I have learned so many hard lessons though my own inner struggles and challenges, as we all have. Consistent with so many of the spiritual traditions, I have found that one of the keys to happiness and finding a deep spiritual connection is cultivating a spiritual humility — reaching beyond our egos as best we can by quieting our minds with a bit of wisdom, by opening our hearts to a bit of unconditional loving-kindness, and by expressing a bit of gratitude for the light and wonder that has been given and that touches us even in the dark times.
1. WISDOM AND THE INTERDEPENDENCE OF ALL EXISTENCE. We — and all of life — are interconnected in a vast and boundless divine tapestry. Our belief that we have a separate, “fixed” self is a delusion that cuts us off from the flow of life and the interdependence of all things. We are nothing but a wondrous part of a larger, interwoven whole. To see all this, even a little, leaves us humble, but also touches us with a deep wisdom that we are connected at our core to something so much greater than we can imagine.
2. THE INNER SPIRIT. As a part of that greater whole, we are truly children of God, at one with the divine essence. Yet, when we come into this world at birth, we put on a limited and fragile ego mask that we wear throughout our lives, believing that the mask is our real self and forgetting our true, inner spirit that is a part of the greater divine radiance. So, we struggle to keep this mask-self safe, closing our eyes to the flow of the divine presence through our lives. Seeing all of this, even a little, we begin to see the futility and childishness of so many of our self-important dramas; and, with the resulting humility, we begin to let go of the ego games and begin instead to focus humbly and joyously on our connection to others and to the greater divine reality. 
3. JUDGE NOT. Looking with an open heart at the cosmos, we may begin to see, even if dimly, the presence of a boundless divine power that supports all of existence, guiding the planets in their orbits, causing the flowers to grow, holding all of the law of physics in the palm of a hand, and supporting our very existence. But, when we grasp after our ego-mask self, and forget our own inner spirit and its connection to the greater divine presence, we begin to make judgments, limiting and defining God, ourselves and each other. We think that we know better — indeed, we think we “know” what is really going on — but the mystery and wonder of existence is beyond any knowing. We do not know, for instance, the truth of another person and where he or she is on the spiritual path. Indeed, we do not even know who we are ourselves. How, then, can we presume to judge others and where they stand in God’s plan? How can we truly judge ourselves? And, even more importantly, how can we judge God, the ineffable foundation of all existence and non-existence? Seeing all this, even a little, we can only begin to humbly let go of our limited, ego-based judgments and open our minds and hearts to a gentle faith in the divine, in ourselves, and in each other. 
4. SPIRITUAL PRACTICE. So, how do we come to see all of the above and cultivate a joyous spiritual humility? Each must find their own way. For me, it come from a gentle spiritual practice: 
(a) First, I try to be mindful of the interconnection of all life, as well as of the impermanence and transience of my own ego-mask self. Then, with a little inner quiet and stillness, I try to watch for the presence of ineffable wonder; I listen for the quiet whispers of my own inner spirit; and I open my heart to the rumblings and reflections of the presence of a boundless God beyond all knowing or grasping.
(b) Next, each day I try to practice a little kindness and unconditional love, as best I can and with as much wisdom as I can muster, quietly shining some light in the darkness on myself and those around me. We all can open a window in our hearts to the divine and let the divine presence shine through us, as if through a glass darkly — but we can polish that glass each day to let in more and more light.
(c) I judge God, myself and others so much. So, I practice not judging by being mindful of how much I do judge, and examining how much of that judgment comes from my own arrogance or insecurity. I then think about the the mystery and power of the divine presence — and the preciousness and miracle of all life, including my own — and stop for a moment and acknowledge, as best I can, that the divine presence is boundless in ways I cannot begin to fathom or judge.    
(d) Finally, I try to find reasons to be grateful: for the presence of wonder, wisdom and light, even in the darkness; for the preciousness of my own life and that of others; and for the blessings, sometimes hidden, that grace my life. There are so many opportunities to express that gratitude to those around me through words and deeds; and to God in my prayers and in the songs of my heart. Finally, I try to express gratitude to myself in the words I use in speaking to myself. We all can begin to appreciate more our own inner, luminous spirits. Humility in the face of the overwhelming wonder of the universe may cause us to begin letting go of our ego games, but it also opens our vision up to the magnificence of the cosmos and to the luminous wonder of our place in it.
Simple Inner Truth by Steven Jay




words and eye above by Jen Lemen 

blues jam


https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=rq5y8yMS0PU



afterburner      


Ask yourself

As you stand there

In the pale grey air

Frozen to these four walls

Feet turned to stone

Decide!

What is worth saving?
Can you will your hands

To grab the memories

You carry only in your heart

Can you pack your boxes full

With the laughter that rings in your ears
The clouds taunt you

Hurry!

There is no time left

Three red flags declare your fate

The defiance of your feet

The moan caught in your throat

Your hands still empty

🔥

This Does Not Belong To You by Salyna Gracie
http://womenspiritualpoetry.blogspot.com/2014/10/this-does-not-belong-to-you-by-salyna.html?m=1

At any given moment 

we get to decide what we keep

and what we leave behind

what truly matters

what creates value for us

As my friend, Barbara McAfee, says,

“Who ya gonna be while you’re passing through?”

No one can answer that question for anyone else,

though many times we allow them to do so. 

Sometimes it’s a radical loss

we have lost everything we have kept dear

all our treasures in this world

in fire, flood, loss of jobs, health,

bloody battles with power hungry ex’s,

even flukey things never expected.

These are our opportunities 

when we only have ourselves left

and we burn as we adjust to this new space of being

the grieving takes us into different, 

often difficult, spaces 

where we get to (ok, have to) do a new thing

this is where life can reveal our best,

or worst, 

because, it’s always our choice! 

My wish for us is that

this becomes a beautiful foundation 

to rebuild our new ships –

the latest and greatest in technological wonders –

the kind which will catch the best wind

to take us to the next adventure  

for which we set sail!

Where our very lives become  

our grandest home ever!

The best is always yet to be! 

⛵️

Amy Lloyd (AL) 

aka The Oracle of Hope & Happiness

When there has been too much pain, we often forget that we have the built-in capacity to move through it to another state. The Divine gave us tears to be cried, the capacity to express our anger, a vast range of emotional devices that, when healthily unleashed and expressed, can clear the toxicity out of us, and lead us to lessons of self-love at the heart of them. In our authentic vulnerability lies our greatest power—the power to re open our hearts after loss and disappointment. The idea that feeling the pain gives power to those who have hurt us is completely wrong. Feeling the pain is an act of self-empowerment and the only way to make a break from the prison of repressed emotions. Reach inside and unlock the door…


– Jeff Brown



the wild & salty now 


Welcome and entertain them all

Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,

who violently sweep your house

empty of its furniture,

still, treat each guest honorably.

He may be clearing you out

for some new delight.

🏡

Parker J. Palmer with a light-hearted metaphor from Rumi — on the unexpected visitor and welcoming her in, serendipitous chaos and all.


I paddled a small boat

through wind and waves in the open sea,

the wind wanting to wipe me sideways,

waves lurching me about,

the constant pressing, the effort, 

the all aloneness of it,

a little dot in an ocean wide of green,

the struggle so welcome, so satisfying,
because I was there. 
I have climbed mountains and hiked deserts,

raised children and journeyed through a marriage

simply to be there.
You have swung the hammer, sewed the seams, 

taken the bus, changed the diapers,

recovered from the illness, done the time.

You run races, you wash dishes,

you row your body through its failings,

you work the work of youth or of aging,

you put your shoulder to it.

Even in prayer’s stillness

you go the distance.
This is the holy pilgrimage:

to meet the given day.

You give yourself to this moment as it is,

hand to hand, all in,

and beyond all accomplishment

you are given the gift 

of this life.

You come home with salt in your hair

and a whole wide sea in your heart. 

      
__________________  

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net


Yesterday afternoon I watched Kate Hudson die in her movie,

A Bit of Heaven,

and I thought about how important our little bit of time is here on this earth. 

The vast importance of now! 

To never hold back sharing our love,

our bit of time here with the ones we love. 

This morning, as I scrolled through my Facebook feed,

I read posts from various friends,

anniversaries of loss. 

The shock of too young loss. 

The bewilderment of unexpected loss. 

The anger of longing for the love loss. 

Missing persons. 

Persons missing persons. 

I listened to the music these friends shared. 

Music chosen in a very personal, intimate way,

helping them deal, 

bringing them comfort,

tapping into their passion, 

their anger,

their extreme feelings,

their great oceans of emotion. 

Music helping them allow,

helping them to move,

helping them release,

as they remain here, feeling left and bereft. 

Music. Always music. 

I cried with them, 

for them,

for my own tsunami of losses. 

As their music poured into me,

I felt their particular loss, 

and I stood along side them and held them in love. 

I honor the grieving hearts of the world. 

I honor the gift, and power, of music. 

🎼

Amy Lloyd (AL)


A New Thing  


I am learning a new thing

I am digging deep into my belief systems

My very foundation –

the thing I learned,

the thing I wanted,

from the very beginning. 

The very thing I have based every decision of my life on for 51 years,

has crumbled,

discovered hidden and rotten 

under every good thing I’ve attempted to build. 

I kept wonder why my fabulous additions 

kept falling down around my ears…

now I see the gaping ground fault,

the illusive, sinking sand,

which I must release and repair. 

It’s very difficult. 

It’s extremely frightening. 

It’s supremely challenging. 

My new thing goes against the grain 

of everything I’ve ever thought, 

dreamed,

done…

since my very earliest childhood memories. 

It’s been so very expensive. 

Life built. 

Time spent. 

Dreams bent. 

All washing away

as I open my hands and allow 

a new firm foundation 

to be built

as the levee breaks 

and carries the remaining sinking sand 

forever away…

times…

they are a changing!




grace has a liberal bias  


Most of life begins with a whisper ..a sigh that slips through the unconscious mind, the bridge between human and divine… raising the bar… giving us jiggle room to live a different kind of life…..there are no notes any more. Wisdom on paper, wisdom in blood. 

Nothing more than thin layers dividing land from the sea, a clear lane that resides between ethereal sound and make believe. Peter Pan, a ship in the sky, a way to live enchanted, before the mystery flies over…beyond the eye…and heaven looks like…feels like…sounds like…smells like…a way through where nothing is divided.  
Breathing God takes concentration, purity runs like…peach juice down the chin; laughter from a child; finding honey on the tongue as ordinary …dressing in robes no one can see, and purple, drapes nicely in the heat of the day…some will say it is only play, and a new day begins with thin sheets of invisible…wide roads of possible, milky white and radiant.
Stepping into, standing beside, claiming victory, ignoring nothing other than the speed in which you die. Born for this…

to be alchemy and dreamer all at the same time… tantalized by burning through layers while walking the streets catching whiffs of perfume…Julian of Norwich no further down the road than a few hundred years and I can still hear her saying…”this God of yours walks in mysterious ways, I’ve heard it too….” and the sunrise begins to taint the Nebraska sky…a slight puff of cloud coverage begins on the edge, a yellow hue…prayers slip through the heart space, between kingdoms of glory and powers of might…I call on all the guidance that waits nearby…and another holy day begins. The world within the world. 
 Beauty,

 Donna Knutson



I step softly into this day

a bit raw

a bit salty

I sit with my understanding 

I stare into the abyss between

I uncover the wound to feel the morning air

I gently touch what is exposed

I sing over it

I let it go

I allow this hard thing to be the right

I do not see it all

I see enough

I walk forward with my longtime companion, 

Beauty, in all she is,

attends my walking,

never disappoints,

she keeps my heart soft,

gives me hope in the smug places. 

I am ever aware and grateful 

🌸

Amy Lloyd (AL)

…and in the time remaining…all I wish you is love…

when I touch your face I touch the face of God   


our identity actually depends on the attention we give to things outside of ourselves 

          (David Whyte via On Being)


It is so difficult to see this face * 

because the countless others 

we’ve seen before 

cloud the view, 

along with how we expect it to look 

and how it might be improved.
Even the faces of the ones we love deeply 

hide like buried treasure 

behind histories of expression.
In order to see 

what is right in front of our eyes, 

we first have to recognize 

we have gradually 

become blind, 

and then begin 

the slow work of forgetting.

* Substitute with any noun: flower, beach, stone, bird, soap bubble, house, grandmother, beef stew, homeless person, celebrity, potato, dollar bill, construction worker, politician, drug addict, child, teacher, report card, mail order catalogue, boss, swimming pool, dog, towel, onion, computer, neighbor, planet, pine cone, cigarette, airplane, spam subject, fork, mountain, etc.

🍴

Recognition by Daron Larson


You are the sum total of everything you’ve ever seen, heard, eaten, smelled, been told, forgot — it’s all there. Everything influences each of us, and because of that I try to make sure that my experiences are positive.

☺️

           – Maya Angelou 


Me myself

Trippers and askers surround me, People I meet, the effect upon me of my early life or the ward and city I live in, or the nation.

The latest dates, discoveries, inventions, societies, authors old and new…

These come to me days and nights and go from me again. But they are not the Me myself.

– Walt Whitman from Song of Myself


I long to see your face

to touch the hills of your nose

your cheeks

the valleys where your eyes live

your forehead, I don’t know well enough 

the crease of your chin 

under your lips

your face is the place 

where your soul

meets the world,

met mine

your breath

allows us to mingle

melting into each other’s dna

I miss your conversation 

I miss our laughter

I miss your company 

I miss your hands

mostly I miss seeing your face

with these eyes of mine

😍

AL


I think your whole life shows in your face and we should be proud of that. 

     – Lauren Bacall


                look at your hands

    your beautiful useful hands

                you’re not an ape

            you’re not a parrot

    you’re not a slow loris

        or a smart missile

            you’re human
            not british

        not american

            not israeli

    not palestinian

        you’re human
            not catholic

    not protestant

        not muslim

            not hindu

    you’re human
    we all start human

        we end up human

            human first

                human last

            we’re human

        or we’re nothing
    nothing but bombs

        and poison gas

    nothing but guns

        and torturers

    nothing but slaves

    of Greed and War

    if we’re not human
                    look at your body

    with its amazing systems

    of nerve-wires and blood canals

        think about your mind

    which can think about itself

        and the whole universe

            look at your face

    which can freeze into horror

            or melt into love

        look at all that life

            all that beauty

            you’re human

        they are human

        we are human

    let’s try to be human
            dance!

💃🏻

Human Beings by Adrian Mitchell

what not to say…just bring french chocolates  


“Only he who cries… is permitted to sing…” is what Bonhoeffer said.



Only those authentic enough to lament, are authentic enough to love.
When everything is stripped away and you have nothing left and in all your bare vulnerability, there is communion with God. 

         – Ann Voskamp


I am bare naked

Down to my bones

Even my comfortable skin is gone

I shiver as the cold blows through me

I have cried many tears 

my song has been well watered

it blooms within me

true voice does not come without cost

Yet it comes

I choose

I let go

I choose

I lament

I chose

I grieve

I choose

I love

I choose

I commune

I choose

I learn

I choose 

always choosing 

new choosing in every moment

to continue to make the choices

which will bring the song

that fills the whole world

with hope, light and love

Thanks be 

to the the friends who stay with me

in silence we weep

in joy we laugh

always and always 

we sing 

🎼

AL


love breaks your heart for the sake of your heart…


If you have your health, you have everything

is something that’s said to cheer you up

when you come home early and find your lover

arched over a stranger in a scarlet thong.

Or it could be you lose your job at Happy Nails

because you can’t stop smudging the stars

on those ten teeny American flags.

I don’t begrudge you your extravagant vitality.

May it blossom like a cherry tree. May the petals

of your cardiovascular excellence

and the accordion polka of your lungs

sweeten the mornings of your loneliness.

But for the ill, for you with nerves that fire

like a rusted-out burner on an old barbecue,

with bones brittle as spun sugar,

with a migraine hammering like a blacksmith

in the flaming forge of your skull,

may you be spared from friends who say,

God doesn’t give you more than you can handle

and ask what gifts being sick has brought you.

May they just keep their mouths shut

and give you French chocolates and daffodils

and maybe a small, original Matisse,

say, Open Window, Collioure, so you can look out

at the boats floating on the dappled pink water.

🏝

French Chocolates by Ellen Bass


The Beloved says:

Be at peace;

         I am the strongest thing in you.

Over your dark, formless waters I brood;

         in your void I speak my Word.

You are my river and I am your flowing;

         you are my water and I am your sea.

I am the spark from nerve to nerve;

         the drumming of your heart. 

I am your blood’s dark alchemy

         creating life, this moment, life. 

In the night I am your nest;

         in the storm, your steadfast earth.

In the raging waters I am your breath;

         in your death I am your life.

I am the First thing in you,

         and I will be in you 

         when the rest of you is gone.

When your bones are shadows 

         and your sinews wind

a hundred years from now

         I will still be in your place,

         rejoicing.

Nothing is deeper than my desire for you;

         nor stronger than your belonging in me.

I am your Realm, and your power, and your glory.

         Be at peace.
__________________

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net





4 year anniversary of living faith following the cloud. Allowing God to direct every step I have taken…been an amazing, wonderful, difficult, miracle-strewn time. So grateful for every miracle minute. 

Big changes seem to be coming. Walk with me. Pray for me. 🙏🏻 So grateful for you. 

blank space


Today I find myself empty

Empty of words

Empty of color

Empty of strength

Empty of grief

Empty of empathy

Empty of ability

Empty of thoughts even

I’ve been here many times 

I understand it better now

I will allow

I will rest

rest from thought

rest from guilt

rest from wanting

rest from expecting 

rest from having to

rest from desire

I rest in my truth

rest in faith

rest in trust

rest in love

rest in what I believe 

rest in what I have experienced 

I will just be

stay open

stay present

stay here now

in wordless prayer –

Allowing the emptiness to be 

Today I am empty

and it is

well with my soul. 

💭

AL


Writing about empty mind is not easy.

When I have got it, there are no words.

When the words come, it goes away.
Sitting in anger and fear,

Mind is full of the past and future.

Images of catastrophes big and small

Jostle for a seat at the brain.

Resentment, incredulity and disappointment

Slide their way into heart spaces

Pushing out loving-kindness.

Equanimity lies in pieces.
Some of us scrape up that slimy

Emotional stuff and put it in jars

To carry along with us,

And then we complain that

Our load is too heavy.

We need to put down that

Lumpy sack of ooze

And take a breath.
The sage said,

“I pack no provisions for my long journey—

Entering emptiness under the midnight moon.”

He did not pack his ego,

Or his remembrance of self.

He carried no big plans

Or regrets of the past.

Like a wise fool he may have

Even forgotten to leave.

While he sits still in darkness,

The moon travels the sky.

🗯

Empty Mind by Tom Barrett


        

I have a small vial of clay

that used to hold my father’s ashes.

They’re on a hillside in Montana now;

the vial is clean and empty,

ready for me. 
I should keep it in my pocket,

hold it deep in the folds of my coat,

until I am folded into my little vial of clay.
It asks me, what is the difference

between you and clay?

The answer is water.

That, and love. 
The little vial of clay says daily:

drink water while you can,

and love. 

__________________  

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net


There is a community of the spirit.

Join it, and feel the delight

of walking in the noisy street

and being the noise.
Drink all your passion,

and be a disgrace.
Close both eyes

to see with the other eye.
Open your hands,

if you want to be held.
Sit down in this circle.
Quit acting like a wolf, and feel

the shepherd’s love filling you.
At night, your beloved wanders.

Don’t accept consolations.
Close your mouth against food.

Taste the lover’s mouth in yours.
You moan, “She left me.” “He left me.”

Twenty more will come.
Be empty of worrying.

Think of who created thought!
Why do you stay in prison

when the door is so wide open?
Move outside the tangle of fear-thinking.

Live in silence.
Flow down and down in always

widening rings of being.

🎴

A Community of the Spirit by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi

This being human is a guest house.

Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,

some momentary awareness comes

As an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!

Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,

who violently sweep your house

empty of its furniture,

still treat each guest honorably.

He may be clearing you out

for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,

meet them at the door laughing,

and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,

because each has been sent

as a guide from beyond.
       – Rumi


threads that won’t break 


On Dec 3, 2014 (2 year anniversary of my living death in the dark night of the soul, I got a post titled Love never Dies from Jen Lemen at Hopeful World http://hopefulworld.org

Here’s a taste of what it said:
I am struck also as I write to you from this wintery desk, that building our capacity for stillness helps so much when the wild comes to our restless souls. Without that practice of being quiet, it’s easy to be scared when our wild, instinctual thoughts pop up. It’s easy to think that they are bad somehow or in need of corralling. But the practice of quiet and stillness helps us recognize our instinctual knowing for what it is: a call to our most true nature. A call to a kind of expression that is more vibrant, more textured, more passionate, more alive–even if it’s a little bit messy. Even if it kicks up a little bit of shame that we are this human, this raw.
So I invite you today to sit with me for three magic minutes. I’ll be right here with you, my own mind a rollercoaster of crazy, of frantic, of nonsensical worrisome things. I’ll sit with you and notice everything in my own soul, while you notice everything in yours and together we will begin to knit together an understanding of what’s underneath that noise: a gorgeous, exquisite tapestry of human longing designed to carry us to an awake magnificent place.
Will you join me?

Setting the timer now.

Let me know how it is on the other side.
With so much love,

Jen
It’s now 3.5 years later and Jen Lemen is still bringing all that, and more to me, to you, to the shaky, hoping world, to the edges of eternity…love never dies. 
Today, in this crazy, brutal brutal place, where we ask…
how can these two people be our Presidential choices?
how can people keep killing other people?
how can I deal with the grief and the fear of this? 
how can I help?
what is the solution? 
what is my part? 
Jen Lemen is doing her part. She’s offering Soul Snacks – 
http://www.thewayofdevotion.org/soul-snacks
Amazing gifts to all of of struggling, hungry, hurting, angry, frustrated pilgrims and poets. 
Right now she has open enrollment and I have just this…
Don’t wait! http://www.thewayofdevotion.org/soul-snacks
Gobble this up, savor it a bite at a time, eat them from start to finish, or nibble from the middle to each edge of crust. Savory, delectable soul-spices involving all your most subtle senses. 
http://www.thewayofdevotion.org/soul-snacks

💞

Keep wrestling, burn, scream, let go, melt, let your heart keep breaking for the sake of your heart, keep saying the names of your people, fiercely defend your tenderness, think, grieve, repair, renew, continue to do what’s in your heart to do…each thread matters…each color makes the world more beautiful…
in the end, only love is eternal, only love remains…
http://www.thewayofdevotion.org/soul-snacks

🔥

AL


We are God’s thread

weaving through the tapestry,

the masterpiece is slowly 

created. 

Potential for beauty, we can’t know,

    unfolding,

       becoming,

          revealing glory 

so bright 

it makes the sun squint 

and reach for sunglasses.  

Brilliance so far beyond ourselves

we go shining into the gray

as we open to the new jewels appearing,

sparkling in the moonlight. 

As we step into the needle’s eye 

the angels catch their breath,

cheering our blazing garments,

dazzled by the vision

God is revealing through the creation. 

As we surrender to the greatest mystery,

the beauty we inhabit 

becomes us,

walking in humble clay

eyes out shining the stars 

set in the heavens. 

Until we totally disappear and all that’s left

is holiness 

so pure 

all we can do 

    is 

bow in wonder 

at ourselves

and give thanks 

as the silk thread 

becomes liquid gold and silver

pure and simple

glory

as we realize our place in the whole. 

We are the temple of our creator. 

The home of God. 

😎

AL



As deftly and finally as one pulls out a thread

someone is weaving them, gracefully tying them,

minute and irreversible.
In the towering sky, even under the fortress, 

root tendrils muscle in and bind ligaments

through an abyss we had been told was absolute.
No enormity of terror

can keep up  

with the steady, unseen healing. 
Before the assault, the horrible wound, 

gaping and exposed,

the stitching has already begun.
Even as we sigh in our own world,

moving on, separate,

we are being sewn in. 
In the earthquake, the collapsing mountains,

not a bit of rubble falls

on the path from the temple.
If you could hold your immortal soul

in your hands, you would hardly recognize it

from one moment to the next.
Your grave is already empty. 
__________________  

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net


photo sources found at pinterest.com

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