life: acoustic & amplified

poetry, quotes & thoughts about life

Archive for the category “healing”

29 Jul 2016

rest in the miracle that has always already happened!    – Fred LaMotte


When the world does not conform

to the story in my head

I get a feeling that

“something’s not right.”

Why is the story in my head

not down-loading properly?
Why do I sense that the world

needs to be fixed

and I must repair what is “wrong”

by imposing my story

onto the mystery

of the ineluctable?
Yet the world is not a problem.

The problem is

there’s a story in my head
but it’s not quite the same

as your story, is it?
And so there is conflict,

there is suffering,

even if our stories are about

salvation, about justice

and equality, the perfect

marriage, the cleanest

environment, or gaining

enlightenment…
Happiness cannot arise

if we slather the world in the thin

veneer of our narration.

Happiness is the dance

of atoms ordered by

the dynamics of chaos

in the heart of the now

when we let both story

and teller disperse

like a fine mist,
when we let things clarify

all by themselves

the way silt filters and falls

through a mountain brook

in liquid transparency.
Now rest in the miracle

that has always

already happened.

Just shut up and see.

A rain cloud vanishes.

There are crystal drops on

blades of grass, each containing

the sun.
💫

SOMETHING’S NOT QUITE RIGHT by Alfred LaMotte

Let us go forward quietly, forever making for the light…

   Vincent Van Gogh 

these anniversaries 

the marking of dates

building Ebenezer memorials 

from the stones of help

bringing me to this place

tasting again

the bitter herbs

the roasted lamb

the flat bread

the milk and honey flowing over everything 

the fresh dates and figs 

of now

sitting with this

bitter-sweet

sweet-bitter

this life

this love

this past

this practice 

this present 

this grateful 

that gratitude 

that changing

this constant

this birth

this death

this resurrection 

always this love

ah this love

just. 

this. 

love. 

always the path of thanks

always the gifts presenting 

along the diamond road

this is my tradition

my version of holiday 

each one

my best of days

my worst of days

feeling it wrapping around my senses

these memories clouds 

wrapping around me

enveloped from behind me

me always facing forward

always facing toward the rising moment just ahead

the path before me the most important 

always remembering,

along with that other Southern Belle…

tomorrow is another day…

the best is always yet to be! 

🗓

AL 7/23/16 gratitude/tradition


Life

                                    truly             

                            is beauty                

                    beauty                                     

           salted                                                     

        by rare moments                                           

of exquisite suffering.    
 Life

  truly             

    is suffering               

              suffering                                    

  peppered                                              

           by rare moments                                           

of exquisite beauty.    

         

🌹                   

https://www.claudiuskeepsakes.com/collections/frontpage/products/duality-of-life-mug


there’s this summer song

of cool wind on my skin, 

playing sweet percussion through the tall, lush marsh grass

gentle water

invisible birds singing in surround sound

my heart resonates with the language we have spoken

the songs we have sung

the rich vibrations of our connection

over the past few days

the new sun warms my back

my shadow sits large

writing poems

this silence my gratitude

this morning my pleasure

this day my gift

this moment my life

thank you for reaching out 

for breaking through the darkness

for holding my hand
💞

AL


The worst isn’t the last thing about the world. It’s the next to the last thing. The last thing is the best. It’s the power from on high that comes down into the world, that wells up from the rock-bottom worst of the world like a hidden spring. Can you believe it? The last, best thing is the laughing deep in the hearts of the saints, sometimes our hearts even. Yes. You are terribly loved and forgiven. Yes. You are healed. All is well. 

     – Frederick Buechner 

      The Final Beast


Then I walked 

straight forward

out of the gate,

through the wood,

along the river,

toward the mountain
and I thought of the future

I could make in the world

if I walked toward it

like this,

with my face toward the hills

and my eyes full of light

and the earth sure

and solid beneath me,

walking

with a fierce anticipation,

and a faithful expectation,

with the sun and the rain

and the wind on my skin

and that old sense…

of many paths

breaking from one path.
So learning to walk

in morning light

like this again,

we’ll take our first 

light step

toward mortality,

walking

out of the garden,

through the woods,

along the river,

toward the mountain,

its simple,

that’s what we’ll do,

practicing as we go

and

we’ll be glimpsed, 

traveling westward, 

no longer familiar,

a following wave,

greeted, as we were at our birth,

as probable 

and slightly 

dangerous strangers,

someone

coming into view,

someone about

to find out.
Some wild 

and improbable risk 

about to break 

on the world again.
..
David Whyte

Adapted from LEARNING TO WALK

From RIVER FLOW: 

New and Selected Poems


Posted in action, Adventure, art, attitude, awareness, beauty, Becoming Yourself, beloved, Change, Choice, connection, determination, Encouragement, Faith, find art at pinterest, giving, Glory, grace, Gratitude, healing, inspiration, Letting Go, Life, Love, moment, mystery, perceptions, Poetry | Leave a comment
27 Jul 2016

quest for that shade of blue


When the light lessens,

Causing colors to lose their courage,

And your eyes fix on the empty distance

That can open on either side

Of the surest line

To make all that is

Familiar and near

Seem suddenly foreign,
When the music of talk

Breaks apart into noise

And you hear your heart louden

While the voices around you

Slow down to leaden echoes

Turning the silence Into something stony and cold,
When the old ghosts come back

To feed on everywhere you felt sure,

Do not strengthen their hunger

By choosing to fear;

Rather, decide to call on your heart

That it may grow clear and free

To welcome home your emptiness 

That it may cleanse you

Like the clearest air

You could ever breathe. 
Allow your loneliness time

To dissolve the shell of dross

That had closed around you;

Choose in this severe silence

To hear the one true voice

Your rushed life fears;

Cradle yourself like a child

Learning to trust what emerges,

So that gradually 

You may come to know
That deep in that black hole 

You will find the blue flower

That holds the mystical light 

Which will illuminate in you

The glimmer of springtime. 

💙

A Blessing for Loneliness by John O’Donohue  


Alone and lost

    at the edge

    of an ocean

    of memories,
    a heart of the deepest blue

        beats

    to the slow monotony

    of a swaying metronome;
found in the crashing waves

    of a dark desolate shore.

 
The weeping wind,

    with its hidden whispers,

    murmurs her name;
as nights they walked

    hand in hand
        flashback into view.
Haunting the torn fabric of his soul.

💔

Shipwrecked heart by AllPoetry member, Halosonthemoon

read the rest here: http://ow.ly/eO4E302oGFH


when I ride the nights ragged hours

when my loneliness rages with ruthless, restless, too warm turning 

when heaven is that smudge of light

seen beside the farthest star

when sleep is torn from my hungry grasp

and I am left without an inch of satisfaction 

from the feathers beneath my head

when I open my eyes to the same shade of black

I see with them closed

then I feel the disappearance of my desire to conform

my self is borderless at 3 am

my pretensions dissolve into this dark

I surrender to my grief

as well as to my hope

I swim to the other end of the bed

to cooler pastures

I visit the sheep 

living among the stuff 

down there

I listen as they recited the 23rd Psalm 

to reassure my nervous entering

in that strange world

I hear all the sounds from this new dimension 

my mind takes on the shape of new perspective 

alert to this unusual adventure 

I cry a little

laugh a little

think about the glory of love

the world turns on its axis

I breath free

I fly home

💞

AL


I am a sheep

and I like it

because the grass

I lie down in

feels good and the still

waters are restful and right

there if I’m thirsty

and though some valleys

are very chilly there is a long

rod that prods me so I

direct my hooves

the right way

though today

I’m trying hard

to sit at a table

because it’s expected

required really

and my enemies—

it turns out I have enemies—

are watching me eat and

spill my drink

but I don’t worry because

all my enemies do

is watch and I know

I’m safe if I will

just do my best

as I sit on this chair

that wobbles a bit

in the grass

on the side of a hill.

🐏

Here In The Psalm by Sally Fisher


Your great mistake is to act the drama

as if you were alone. As if life

were a progressive and cunning crime

with no witness to the tiny hidden

transgressions. To feel abandoned is to deny

the intimacy of your surroundings. Surely,

even you, at times, have felt the grand array;

the swelling presence, and the chorus, crowding

out your solo voice You must note

the way the soap dish enables you,

or the window latch grants you freedom.

Alertness is the hidden discipline of familiarity.

The stairs are your mentor of things

to come, the doors have always been there

to frighten you and invite you,

and the tiny speaker in the phone

is your dream-ladder to divinity.
Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into

the conversation. The kettle is singing

even as it pours you a drink, the cooking pots

have left their arrogant aloofness and

seen the good in you at last. All the birds

and creatures of the world are unutterably

themselves. Everything is waiting for you.

🌎

Everything is Waiting for You by David Whyte

from Everything is Waiting for You

©2003 Many Rivers Press


photo sources found at pinterest.com


Posted in Adventure, Alone, attitude, awareness, beauty, Becoming Yourself, Beginning, beloved, Change, Choice, connection, courage, dark, Encouragement, Faith, find art at pinterest, grace, Gratitude, healing, laugh, Letting Go, Life, Lonely, Love, Relationships, soul and spirit, Trust, Vulnerability, www.pinterest.com | Leave a comment
25 Jul 2016

growing wild 


Dark and early in your story someone fearful

of your inborn glory took it 

and buried it behind your house,

and you, innocently, and wise to save yourself

from their greater wrath, 

believed its absence. 

It’s not a pompous glory, 

insistent on regard, but sure and quiet 

as a wildflower’s, asking nothing.

And so you’ve lived—so have we all— 

without it, your heart shoveled over

with self-doubt and apology, as if 

you have no place or voice here

among angels. 

We see you in the cripples who flocked

to Jesus, the mute, the paralyzed,

bent over, shut out, gone mad. 

And all he meant to say was this: 

you shine. You bring a gift 

as no one else, and you belong. 

Your Word deserves a hearing,

and this world needs your beauty 

and your grace. There is no rank

you fall below, no worth you fail to match.

Your shuttering was evil, and God 

wants it undone, and wants you whole.

And so she takes you by the hand

and raises you to stand, to walk, to speak.

She listens to your song with joy. 

She rains upon the earth

until you are unafraid of your radiance

and all our houses are surrounded by wildflowers.

______________________

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net


Wildflowers grow without

discipline,

rooted in the secret order

of quietness.

Edges get rounded down.

Nature offers no straight lines 

or right angles.

Wouldn’t you rather run your

fingers through black loam

than scroll through golden rules?

What you really seek

is the fragrance of chaos,

like a moth on a purple aster,

the intimate fragility

of mountain meadows.

Surrender first.

Strip off the armor

of Should.

Then fight your valiant battle

for beauty.

___________
Alfred K. LaMotte


…

Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow:

they do not toil or spin. 

~Matthew 6:28



Do you suppose she’s a wild flower?

Dancing light and free

Do you suppose she’s a wildflower? 

As we all wish to be 

Let yourself go 

be drawn to what you love

   – Rumi


God made black sheep and dandelions 

God said they were good

God made your heart sweet

He sees you cryin’

Oh now can’t you see

God made you and me

just like every star

to shine just as we are
 there’s a garden many know

pretty maids all in a row

looking all they same are they

mother, may I? they do say
some folks see wishes

some folks see weeds

some folks see diamonds

whiles stones others see

some folks don’t get me

as I need to be

I am a wildflower

dancing so free
God made black sheep and dandelions 

God said they were good

God made your heart sweet

He sees you cryin’

Oh now can’t you see

God made you and me

just like every star

to shine just as we are
there’s a sky above we see

stars come out to play at night

they don’t ask what they can be

they shine their light for all to see
some folks see storms clouds

some folks see rains

some folks see nightmares

whiles dreams others see

some folks don’t get me

as I need to be

I am a star child

twinkling so free
God made black sheep and dandelions 

God said they were good

God made your heart sweet

He sees you cryin’

Oh now can’t you see

God made you and me

just like every star

to shine just as we are

💫

AL






buy this goodness!

Posted in attitude, awareness, beauty, Becoming Yourself, Change, Choice, Dancing, Encouragement, Faith, find art at pinterest, Freedom, fun, Growth, healing, Impossible, inspiration, intimacy, Joy, Letting Go, Life, Love, nature | Leave a comment
23 Jul 2016

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. 

Posted in action, Adventure, attitude, awareness, Becoming Yourself, beloved, big, Change, Choice, courage, Faith, find art at pinterest, Freedom, friendship, Gratitude, Grieving, healing, home, Letting Go, Life, Love, Miracles, Peace, People, Relationships, risk, soul and spirit, transformation, Trust, truth, Vulnerability, www.pinterest.com | Leave a comment
22 Jul 2016

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


Posted in Alone, attitude, awareness, be, beauty, Becoming Yourself, beloved, Choice, connection, courage, emotions, Freedom, Gratitude, Grieving, healing, Letting Go, Love, mystery, Patience, Peace, Poetry, quiet, risk, soul and spirit, strength, transformation, Trust, truth, Vulnerability, www.pinterest.com | Leave a comment
21 Jul 2016

bits and pieces 

I gave myself permission to feel and experience all of my emotions. In order to do that, I had to stop being afraid to feel. In order to do that, I taught myself to believe that no matter what I felt or what happened when I felt it, I would be okay.     – Iyanla Vanzant


I have walked through many lives,

some of them my own,

and I am not who I was,

though some principle of being

abides, from which I struggle

not to stray.

When I look behind,

as I am compelled to look

before I can gather strength

to proceed on my journey,

I see the milestones dwindling

toward the horizon

and the slow fires trailing

from the abandoned camp-sites,

over which scavenger angels

wheel on heavy wings.

Oh, I have made myself a tribe

out of my true affections,

and my tribe is scattered!

How shall the heart be reconciled

to its feast of losses?

In a rising wind

the manic dust of my friends,

those who fell along the way,

bitterly stings my face.

Yet I turn, I turn,

exulting somewhat,

with my will intact to go

wherever I need to go,

and every stone on the road

precious to me.

In my darkest night,

when the moon was covered

and I roamed through wreckage,

a nimbus-clouded voice

directed me:

“Live in the layers,

not on the litter.”

Though I lack the art

to decipher it,

no doubt the next chapter

in my book of transformations

is already written.

📝

The Layers by Stanley Kunitz


there are people and places

which live inside me

I feel them 

as I spin the kaleidoscope wheel

they come into focus

moments 

smells

textures

visuals

each hold exquisite love

each hold delicately intense, brutal, suffering 

each hold ruthless trust,

radical hope,

extreme faith,

continual healing. 

each person,

each place a threshold 

of practical practice,

of growth and becoming,

of wrestling with letting go,

of spiritual teaching towards love,

of defending my tenderness,

of stepping into ‘I am’,

of allowing myself,

of removing the toxic tarter buildup of my own soul,

of seeing glimpses of the unlimited, ever-unfolding mystery. 

I’m so grateful for these people,

these places,

the ones I carry,

seen,

and those still before me,

as yet, unseen. 

🕘

AL

Just past dawn, the sun stands

with its heavy red head

in a black stanchion of trees,

waiting for someone to come

with his bucket

for the foamy white light,

and then a long day in the pasture.

I too spend my days grazing,

feasting on every green moment

till darkness calls,

and with the others

I walk away into the night,

swinging the little tin bell

of my name. 

🔔

Birthday Poem by Ted Kooser

Posted in action, Adventure, attitude, awareness, beauty, Becoming Yourself, Beginning, beloved, Change, Choice, commitment, confidence, connection, courage, determination, do, Encouragement, find art at pinterest, Freedom, healing, Letting Go, Life, Love, Purpose | Leave a comment
18 Jul 2016

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

I 

💞

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

Posted in action, Adventure, Alone, attitude, awareness, beauty, Becoming Yourself, beloved, Change, Choice, community, compassion, confidence, connection, courage, Dancing, dark, Death, Encouragement, Faith, find art at pinterest, Freedom, Glory, Gratitude, Grieving, healing, home, Hope, Imagine, inspiration, laugh, Letting Go, Life, light, Love, Miracles, music, mystery, Passion, Patience, Peace, People, perceptions, Poetry, power, Prayer, Purpose, quiet | Leave a comment
17 Jul 2016

the hum of Sabbath and poems


There will be the clutter and clatter of pans,

the rumble and jumble of traffic and trains,

the brambles of papers and lists and calls,

the beaten paths, the errands, the chores.

You don’t have to rattle and run with them.

You can do one thing at a time.

You can stop 
and sit at the feet of the moment,

pay reverent attention to whatever it is,

and listen to the silence beneath the hum,

and simply be

in the the presence of the presence.

In all your doing that you surely must do,

you still can just be.

And your being

will become

what you do.

In the stillness within the action

sits the Beloved

who is not distracted with many things,

but only wants to sit awhile 

with you.

__________________

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net

I was reading…
yes, that was it…
reading…

poetry…
then I was awake…
and it was late afternoon…
and I felt heavy,
but so grateful,
to be able to finally get that rest,
to hear that sweet sound of rain,
to feel the soft of the squishy pillows,
to smell the fresh cut flowers by my bed,
to experience the healing power
of sleep. 
to gain the clarity. 
to allow the next question. 
to prepare for the hard next steps.
to feel ready.
sleep is a magic source of strength.
a necessary part of living well.
But, really, I was just reading poems…

😴💤💤

AL


Poetry is the art of the spoken word, a tapestry of emotion sparked by a single phrase, that impacts the deepest resonances of a heart….that holds it’s meaning through history.

💞

By AllPoetry fan, Taylor S.

💞

Do you agree? 

How does poetry impact you?



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

Posted in art, attitude, awareness, create, find art at pinterest, healing, inspiration, Letting Go, Peace, Poetry, power, Prayer, quiet, soul and spirit, Trust, Vulnerability, www.pinterest.com | Leave a comment
16 Jul 2016

play me  



Lying here quietly beside you,

My cheek against your firm, quiet thighs,

The calm music of Boccherini

Washing over us in the quiet,

As the sun leaves the housetops and goes

Out over the Pacific, quiet—

So quiet the sun moves beyond us,

So quiet as the sun always goes,

So quiet, our bodies, worn with the

Times and penances of love, our

Brains curled, quiet in their shells, dormant,

Our hearts slow, quiet, reliable

In their interlocked rhythms, the pulse

In your thigh caressing my cheek. 

Quiet.

🎹

Quietly by Kenneth Rexrothg


🍅
when life gets hard

and love is dry

when hearts get hurt

and eyes just cry

there’s just one thing that’s left to try

pour some music on it

when times are tough

when money’s tight

you try to make it

with all your might

just one thing will make things right

pour some music on it

pour some music all around

on your head

on the ground

That’s the way that joy is found

just pour some music on it

when the night 

is dark and grim

the day is gray 

and hope is dim

Just wait for light, just fake a grin

and pour some music on it

pour some music all around

let it out 

let it pound

Just pump it up, dance to that sound

just pour some music on it

are you tired, are you fat,

are you wearing thin?

just pour some music on it

are you happy, are you sad, are you wearing skin?

just pour some music in it

are you red, are you white, are you feeling blue?

just pour some music on it

are you old, are you young, are you feeling new

just pour some music on it

🎼

AL




Posted in Adventure, art, attitude, awareness, beauty, Becoming Yourself, beloved, courage, Faith, find art at pinterest, healing, inspiration, intimacy, Letting Go, Life, Love, music, mystery, Prayer | Leave a comment
15 Jul 2016

how far will you go?      


Better to live your life open rather than exist on borrowed time, waiting for the great unmasking.

      – Kate Jacobs



love is the flame
all people yearn for the flame

some people never discover there actually is a flame

some people ignore the flame

some people avoid the flame 

some people examine the flame

some people research the flame

some people control the flame

some people fear the flame

some people are fooled by fake flame

some people admire the flame

some people use the flame

some people walk on the flame

some people dance with the flame

some people dance in the flame

some people become the flame

some people are consumed by the flame
your choice…

how will you burn?

🔥

AL


Those who are drawn to the root of love are mystics. Mystics are not satisfied with the surface patterns of love, with the emotional tangles and insecurities of human loving. They seek a purer wine, a more potent passion. They need the essence of love, its divine substance.

         ~ Irina Tweedie


On the day I died

water ran through pipes,

footsteps identified people in the house and

the dogs nails clicked quickly on the wood floors above my head,

insisting it was time to go out for relief. 

I still needed coffee,

light with cream,

2 sugars. 

The sun was bright 

and I remember the sky was that deep blue,

romantically named, azurite. 

There was cockscomb, 

half alive in pots near the wooden footbridge I walked over. 

I used to love them when I was alive. 

I touched their red, velvety, blooms seeking to feel something. 

I mistook fluttering angel wings for birds,

battles fought,

 just beyond where I lay

on the words of Wendell Berry –

the only thread

keeping me tethered to this world. 

I sat on benches beside ghosts 

of those who had gone before me. 

I could still only feel them beside me,

I was in the world between worlds. 

There was darkness, a fire swamp, screaming, clashes of swords, 

I could not save myself. 

God was everywhere. 

I found myself in a boat,

where I stayed for 2 years, until, 

in recent weeks,

the call came to step out,

to start walking on water. 

Late in the day, 

I stood in the bathroom, 

accepting the most insulting job offer I have ever received,  

then sat on a stool,

 trying to act as if I was alive,

pretending to look for puzzle pieces,

slightly aware of the colors and shapes,

singing echoes of songs I used to love,

with my beautiful Robin,

who seemed very much alive. 

🔥

AL 

In Memoriam of my death, consumed by the flame, 

December 3, 2012 – 

may I be remembered as 

Daniel J O’Connell having the:

Spirit of a warrior

Soul of a poet


Irradiat your mind with the light from within, allow your existence to move along within the unbroken continuity of nature. The ideal of authenticity lies deep in the heart of one’s union to the world not the possession of it. The grandeur of unity holds a definitive place in the infinite. When you calibrate your spirit with that of the world you are left open to respond to your life harmoniously with the universe. Unmask your illusions from those artificial ideas you have build your lives upon with walls and boundaries solidifying your thoughts about a tragic disassociation to nature. It’s up to you to be open now or wait for the great unmasking…the choice is yours but unmasking now allows you to reconcile your existence while you still have the chance to live it.

    – Lissette T. Hesmadt


We have known and have believed the love that God has for us. God is love, and those who remain in love remain in God and God remains in them.  1 John ‪4:16‬


No matter the results and outcomes,
     the thousand possibilities,

          you are here now. 
Why even try to trace

     what the beggar will do with your money?

          Let your giving be the whole horizon.
Be lovingly present

     and wars and stars and grief and cats alike

          will be unable to trouble you.
At the center of the world and in each breath

     this is the holy temple, the birthing moment:

          giving and receiving love. That is all. 
This is the sacred point,

     the love in you 

          meeting the love in the world.
However broken or weary you are,

     bring yourself here, in love, 

          now. 
__________________  

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net


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

Posted in attitude, awareness, Becoming Yourself, beloved, Burnign Bridges, Change, Choice, courage, dark, Death, Encouragement, Faith, find art at pinterest, Glory, Gospel, grace, Gratitude, Growth, Habits, healing, home, Letting Go, Life, Love, mystery, Passion, Poetry, power, Purpose | Leave a comment

Post Navigation

← Older Entries
Newer Entries →