Today all I have on my mind and heart is my sister, Nancy, who is having a heart ablation procedure right now. Please pray with me for her and her husband, Richard and for the Doctors as they work on her heart today. God heals our broken hearts and I am so grateful to know that there is Love bigger than any problem or sickness. Thank you for allowing me to share this and for your prayers for her.
Aimless Love
by Billy Collins
This morning as I walked along the lakeshore,
I fell in love with a wren
and later in the day with a mouse
the cat had dropped under the dining room table.
In the shadows of an autumn evening,
I fell for a seamstress
still at her machine in the tailor’s window,
and later for a bowl of broth,
steam rising like smoke from a naval battle.
This is the best kind of love, I thought,
without recompense, without gifts,
or unkind words, without suspicion,
or silence on the telephone.
The love of the chestnut,
the jazz cap and one hand on the wheel.
No lust, no slam of the door—
the love of the miniature orange tree,
the clean white shirt, the hot evening shower,
the highway that cuts across Florida.
No waiting, no huffiness, or rancor—
just a twinge every now and then
for the wren who had built her nest
on a low branch overhanging the water
and for the dead mouse,
still dressed in its light brown suit.
But my heart is always propped up
in a field on its tripod,
ready for the next arrow.
After I carried the mouse by the tail
to a pile of leaves in the woods,
I found myself standing at the bathroom sink
gazing down affectionately at the soap,
so patient and soluble,
so at home in its pale green soap dish.
I could feel myself falling again
as I felt its turning in my wet hands
and caught the scent of lavender and stone.
The Writer’s Almanac
http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/
Mary Oliver reminds me
to let go of any need, that might linger within,
to, even try, to impress anyone,
least of all,
myself.
LET GO…
just stay alert to the extravagant impressiveness around me,
puddling at my feet,
drowning my life with goodness.
To be easily astonished,
easily filled with wonder,
to allow life to boggle my mind.
To stay a child of joy and nature,
a collector of abundant miracles,
never taking one of them for granted.
To stay in awe of sunsets
and dandelions,
coffee shops
and grasshoppers.
Bears and ants.
To gasp every time I get a view of the ocean,
to be breathless at the view from a mountaintop road at sunset.
To thrill when I see a leaf change color.
To crane my neck, every single time, to catch a glimpse of sunlight on water,
and the curve of a babies cheek.
To get a chill of macabre delight
at gnarly, old toenails,
and bats hanging upside down
in a dark damp cave,
or flying around a street light as darkness falls slowly through the air.
Such things keep me alive.
These are the true riches of our living.
Extreme miracles everywhere around us.
We are here to witness,
here to share descriptions of such beauty,
even our feeble attempts are so amazing
they boggle the mind.
Thank you, Mary Oliver, for this reminder,
with your lovely vision
and every beautiful, glorious word.
We are each here to do our part,
to record our miracles
in our own way.
With our
lives,
voices,
pens,
paints,
dances,
lyrics,
artistry,
we make up this tapestry,
record the blazing glory,
of this masterpiece we live in.
We each add notes to the grand symphony of life,
no accidents,
or accidental people.
Only I can tell you the grandeur of my living space,
it is mine alone,
until I share it.
As I share,
I allow the singing of the rocks to be heard,
but also to stay a silent mystery
–
at least for those
who don’t choose to hear
this exquisite, out-of-this-world music,
playing with such brilliance, light and passion,
everywhere we go.
AL 8/23/13
Catch of the Day
by Lucy Shaw
It leaps, breaking the skin of the lake
of possibility, this thing that flashes steel –
this trout of a poem, wild with life, rainbow scales
and spiny fins. Now, for patience, the pull of the catch:
I cast, wait for the jerk – the tug of the hook in bony jaw –
feel the line go taut. The ballet begins, a wrestle
to land this flailing, feral thing – all thrash and edge –
and tame it into telling its own muscular story.
I heave it over the edge of its arrival, glorious,
fighting the whole way, slippery as language.
Its beauty twitches on the floor boards, its glisten
spilling over the bottom on my notebook page.
http://www.lucishaw.com/
is a Quaker axiom which is defined as: “To undertake a service or course of action without prior clarity about all the details but with confidence that divine guidance will make these apparent, and assure an appropriate outcome.”
abandoned to divine guidance
living with this confidence…
the way will open
God will provide!
This is a difficult saying,
even more difficult to fall into the arms
of mystery
and begin every day
new
in this way of living.
It is not a natural way to live.
it is a radical way to live.
doesn’t make sense,
least of all to me,
the most stubborn and selfish of girls,
the one who is known to love shoes
even more than chocolate.
it is only with the spirit that I can choose this path.
true love is its only source,
true love is radical,
it takes me to the cross,
and asks me to lay down willingly…
and because I have experienced this grace amazing,
because I know how good this love is,
because I know how much I have been forgiven,
I DO!
I peacefully give up.
I joyfully lay down.
I patiently learn to wait.
I step out into the valley
and then
I gladly learn to die.
Not my will,
Thine be done.
In earth.
In heaven.
In me.
To me.
For me.
Through me.
In spite of me.
The past year
I have walked this way
it is the only way I find
I want to live,
can now live at all;
waiting for grace
to illuminate my next step.
counting miracles every minute,
letting go of my wants,
reveals love beyond imagination.
provision at every turn,
Every bush is blazing holy.
Shoes can only be discarded.
To God be the Glory
Forever and ever
Amen
AL 8/15/13
there are words strung together
in such beauty
in such a way
they touch secret places
of pain so deep
they have had no words
they almost don’t exist
they are so deep
so shadowy scarred and twisted
so nameless I can’t acknowledge them
because they might possibly be ghosts, or demons
and why would I disturb alien creatures,
when there is quite enough pain
right here in plain sight
to try to heal and deal with?
until these thoughts appear,
shadows become real,
in these words of another
because the other
has felt
has written
has sung
has wrestled and wrangled with
this too
and the words they have mined
from these dark, broken quarries
touch that wispy, pain-filled place
inside of me
with delicate fingers
and declare they are so,
and make them alright,
binding and healing
my broken bones
my hidden stab wounds
my almost too pain-filled to be real
merely by sharing them
and my soul says, aha!
and the roses in my heart
turn from blush to deepest crimson
and birds come and rest in these trees,
which declare every moment that
Yahweh is always gracious,
and the morning wakes up
new and alive
and love burns seven times hotter
than I ever thought possible
and I count gift after gift
of never-before-seen riches at my fingertips
as I step into a life
that matters
because I am beloved
because I understand myself better
and the meaning of,
It is what it is,
and,
the truth shall set you free
become my praise songs
because I am
with every word
and I grin and say,
You aren’t much,
and I belly laugh
because it is true
and I laugh even harder because,
truth is also,
I am everything I need to be
hallelujah
glory be!
AL 8/12/13
a special thank you to my favorite writers today! So very grateful for words written and shared!
Steve Garnaas-Holmes, Mary Oliver, Oriah Mountain Dreamer, Kathy Galloway, Wendell Berry, Walt Whitman, Paulo Coelho, Ann Voskamp, Mark Buchanan, Kyle Idleman, Henri Nouwen, Brennan Manning, John O’Donohue, Audrey Assad, Janet Paschal, and so many, many others who have touched and inspired me over the years…these are exceptional amazing, inspiring people of words! Thank you for your gifts to me!
life: acoustic & amplified 