life: acoustic & amplified

poetry, quotes & thoughts about life

Archive for the category “mystery”

choices…every day give thanks 

 

          
God of Love,

in a world great with darkness

I drink your light. 
In a world of violence

I soften my heart.
In a world of fear

I deepen my breath.
In a word of grief

I enlarge my embrace.
In a world of shouting

I open my roots.
In a world of fragments

I let myself belong.
In a world of walls

I go out into the streets:
I bear you to those

who are mad with hunger for you. 
In a world of fissures

I return to you,

always to you.
__________________ 

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net

   
Wanna build a new life? 

It happens one day…one choice… at a time.  You CAN do hard things. You can make the right choices for yourself. 

Take responsibility. Gain your whole world. Self respect comes only this way. It’s so worth it!!! xo

  

and then one day…

 

 The road to forgiveness.. after the pilgrim lanes,
and the ruined chapel,

the gull cries and the sea-hush 

at the back of the island, 

it was the way, standing still 

or looking out

or walking, or even talking 

with others in the evening bar, 

holding your drink

or laughing with the rest,

that you realized part of you

had already dropped to its knees,

to pray, to sing, to look, 

to fall in love with everything

and everyone again,

that someone from far inside you

had walked out into the sea light

and the great embracing quiet

to raise its hands

and forgive

everyone in your short life

you thought you hadn’t,

and that all along

you had been singing 

your quiet way 

through the rosary of silence

that held their names….

😍

Excerpted from LEAVING THE ISLAND by David Whyte

   
 photos found at http://www.pinterest.com

it was bouncing around in my brain this morning   – Linda Clark

  
Getting it Right—Write!

I have a notion

I must confess

A notion you see

That has me quite obsessed
It sits in my head 

both day and night

it haunts my dreams

and gives me great fright
It rules my thoughts

this little notion

stirring up doubts

and causing a commotion
It wiggles and niggles

in my brain

with a feverish pitch

it drives me insane
This obsession you ask

what could it be?

My obsession is a task

I seek endlessly!
To get it right

To do my best

To show I’m bright

I can pass the test
This feeling to get it right

Is ever so strong

I work day and night

To not get it wrong
I was given great insight

About this “getting it right”

I just learned recently

A truth that has finally set me free
It’s not it at all

about getting it right.

It’s about happiness and light

and letting your soul shine bright
No have to’s

No pressure

No should’s

Did me a world of good!
So no longer will I labor

to get it right 

I will do my best

to give it a rest! 
So In my chair I sit and write

No longer will I yearn

or worry with concern

it’s quite easy once when you learn
I will change my mantra

and simply ignore

those three little words

I was obsessed with before
What’s my new mantra

you might ask

I’ve changed my word

just a small task
I am no longer worried

about that word right

I will feed my soul

and simply WRITE!! 

🌀

Linda Clark

   

  

We seldom notice how each day is a holy place
 Where the eucharist of the ordinary happens,

 Transforming our broken fragments

 Into an eternal continuity that keeps us.
Somewhere in us a dignity presides

 That is more gracious than the smallness

 That fuels us with fear and force,

 A dignity that trusts the form a day takes. 
So at the end of this day, we give thanks

 For being betrothed to the unknown

 And for the secret work

 Through which the mind of the day

 And wisdom of the soul become one. 

🔹

John O’Donohue
 

 
http://www.creativesoulsart.com

for the love of all things poetry 💞  

 

 I fit words together, 
hoping they mean something.  

Wanting them to make sense. 

To myself. 

To others. 

Allowing them my raw emotion. 

Willing to give them up freely. 

Creating a monument, 

for this one moment in time, 

to share with the world. 

These words become something tangible. 

A thing, 

a gift, 

a piece of art. 

A part of me, 

stays with them. 

Little pieces of me live, 

like shapes in a puzzle, 

becoming 

a picture, 

a flower, 

a song. 

Small particles of my soul, 

like tiny rose buds,

opening in my hand, 

mesmerizes with it’s 

beauty, 

touch, 

fragrance. 

I write words on a page, 

and feel love 

spreading outward, 

as the flowering happens, 

as this thought blooms. 

As words become thoughts about… 

As the pieces become beautiful… 

As the poem is born, 

of water, 

blood, 

star dust 

and becomes… 

a small piece of my soul,

left behind on pages, 

for others to find, 

sharing a small moment, 

never to be lost, 

because it has been 

recorded, 

acknowledged, 

emptied. 

Gratitude makes room for new 

miracles, 

learning, 

beauty, 

as they find their new home 

ready, 

emptied, 

expectant. 

Waiting for more 

truth, 

goodness, 

love, 

to flow and enter in. 

There is always more, 

and more than enough. 

The heart that gives gathers, 

but never tries to hold anything hostage. 

Love, 

giving, 

pretty much everything, 

about life, 

only works when we allow it, 

all of it –

every sacred cow, 

every color on the wheel,

every tiny wildflower we see,

every spec of mud, 

to be free. 

AL

 

  

  
Photos found at http://www.pinterest.com 

  

what we choose lives on

  
For everyone you touch, you also reach everyone they will ever know… and everyone they will ever know… and everyone they will ever know… So for the rest of all time, your kindness will be felt, in waves that will spread, long after you move on.

 #notesfromtheuniverse http://www.tut.com/Inspiration/nftu

  

grid & flow  

 

THE SEA IN YOU
When I wake under the moon, 

I do not know who I have become unless 

I move closer to you, obeying the give and take

of the earth as it breathes the slender length

of your body, so that in breathing with the tide 

that breathes in you, and moving with you 

as you come and go, and following you, half in light 

and half in dark, I feel the first firm edge of my floating palm 

touch and then trace the pale light of your shoulder 

to the faint, moon-lit shadow of your smooth cheek, 

and drawing my finger through the pearl water of your skin,

I sense the breath on your lips touch and then warm

the finest, furthest, most unknown edge of my sense of self,

so that I come to you under the moon 

as if I had swum under the deepest arch of the ocean, 

to find you living where no one could possibly live,

and to feel you breathing, where no one could 

possibly breathe, and I touch your skin as I would 

touch a pale whispering spirit of the tides that my arms 

try to hold with the wrong kind of strength and my lips 

try to speak with the wrong kind of love and I follow

you through the ocean night listening for your breath

in my helpless calling to love you as I should, and I lie 

next to you in your sleep as I would next to the sea,

overwhelmed by the rest that arrives in me and by the weight 

that is taken from me and what, by morning, 

is left on the shore of my waking joy.

THE SEA IN YOU by David Whyte
  
 
It is the great mystery of life

That to every part

there is a counterpart

the polarity is the great gift

Also the great curse

The friction keeps us learning

else we die, even as we live. 

Gravity keeps on earth

Anti-gravity surrounds us a few miles above 

without both we would not exist. 

Trees breathe carbon in

Exhale oxygen

We do the opposite. 

The sun and moon 

are in the perfect spots for us to survive. 

We fight change,

though it is the one thing 

that truly allows us to become. 

We want to have answers –

Cut. 

Dry. 

Concrete. 

We want to KNOW 

Yet the great mystery of life is letting the mystery be greater than us

while inhaling the small parts we can comprehend

and using them to create good with our part. 

seeing new every day.

evolving slowly. 

The yin. 

The yang. 

Within the darkness

We find the light. 

With letting go of the other

We finally own our oneness. 

Within the deepest sorrow

We release ourselves

for our most complete joy. 

When we give ourselves empty

we receive back waves of abundance and are filled fresh. 

We want what glitters, 

but find the best gifts 

are always on the bottom shelf,

sometimes a little dusty from not being used. 

Each and every day, in order to find our way into the unlimited potential of our highest self

we must first commit to our holy and unique calling,

our own glorious belovedness. 
AL

💜

Photos found on http://www.pinterest.com

  

 

handle with care 

 

   

 

   
Hanging on by the proverbial thread

heart hungry for more

feeling ready

to break 

properly

crash and burn to ashes

Am I the only one

on the edge of sideways

trying to walk a straight line

as that slight right turn 

ends up being a hard right circle 

where I end up facing myself

in an old west gun-slinger shoot the lights out,

death of my dreams

duel?

Am I the only one? 

I hold my heart in my hands tenderly

hoping my repairs hold

that it won’t give way

and slide through my fingers

like sand on a summer day

which can never hold a shape 

longer than when the next high tide

washes it away
AL 

    
photos found on http://www.pinterest.com 

what sacrifice?

how can you call it a sacrifice when you do it willingly because you believe in it?   – Aung San Suu Kyi 

 

 
I am this morning meadow

         into which you pour yourself.
I am the still air

         in which you rise, a mountain, huge.
I am this city street

         which you walk, a crowd 

         with your stories, your nations.
I am this bird

          and you are flight, and song.
I am the ocean

         and you are my water.
I am the desert

         and you are my stillness.
I am this heart

         and you are my beating.
You are this day

         into which you pour me, 

         breath by breath.
Together,

         we are this life.
__________________ 

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net

  

there is no cage 

love must be stepped into 

freely. 

there is no withholding 

love gives it all away. 

there is no have to’s 

love must be given and received willingly. 

there is no selfish motive 

love always wants the highest and best for the other person. 

there are no ‘no’s’ 

love always says yes. 

love takes commitment. 

it is not an easy job, 

both parties – 

equal and 

100 percent in it. 

you must choose what you want, 

along with the consequences of those choices. 

Just know, for sure, 

love will always set you free 

there is no fear in love

AL

  

when you’re ready 

   
    
  
  
 

 Again I resume the long 
lesson: how small a thing 

can be pleasing, how little 

in this hard world it takes 

to satisfy the mind 

and bring it to its rest. 
With the ongoing havoc 

the woods this morning is 

almost unnaturally still. 

Through stalled air, unshadowed 

light, a few leaves fall 

of their own weight. 
                  The sky 

is gray. It begins in mist 

almost at the ground 

and rises forever. The trees 

rise in silence almost 

natural, but not quite, 

almost eternal, but 

not quite. 
        What more did I 

think I wanted? Here is 

what has always been. 

Here is what will always 

be. Even in me, 

the Maker of all this 

returns in rest, even 

to the slightest of His works, 

a yellow leaf slowly 

falling, and is pleased. 

💜

Sabbaths 1999, VII by  Wendell Berry
   

 The sky in my rearview 

is a huge bowl of rainbow sherbet 

the beautiful kind 

with raspberry, orange-n-lime 

swatches of lemon, indigo and periwinkle 

float like barges – 

in, out 

around. 

Framing. 

Dancing. 

Living. 

At one point tangerine fills the top of the hilly crest 

and head light stars 

blaze brilliant against the backdrop 

indigo stretched above framing the masterpiece. 

At times I find it hard to keep moving forward 

into the matte gray of the sky just ahead. 

so much loveliness is going on 

right behind me 

how can I keep heading away from it? 

How can I not be a part of this splendor? 

Eventually midnight blue seizes its moment of glory, 

then night falls over all 

and I am left 

aching with the beauty, 

the majesty, 

the extravagant display, 

of this wonderful world. 

I go to wondering 

if this longing for your kiss

will ever be answered? 

if my whole life I will wait 

for a moment which has already passed, 

never to be again under this piece of sky. 

always a whisper.  

The magic of love, 

a thing with wings 

hovering over my heart 

for years 

echoing on into eternity.  

💞

AL

in this time

  
Hokusai says Look carefully.

He says pay attention, notice.

He says keep looking, stay curious.

He says there is no end to seeing.
He says Look Forward to getting old.

He says keep changing,

you just get more who you really are.

He says get stuck, accept it, repeat yourself

as long as it’s interesting.
He says keep doing what you love.

He says keep praying.

He says every one of us is a child,
every one of us is ancient,

every one of us has a body.

He says every one of us is frightened.

He says every one of us has to find a way to live with fear.
He says everything is alive—

shells, buildings, people, fish, mountains, trees.

Wood is alive.

Water is alive.

Everything has its own life.

Everything lives inside us.

He says live with the world inside you.
He says it doesn’t matter if you draw, or write books.

It doesn’t matter if you saw wood, or catch fish.

It doesn’t matter if you sit at home

and stare at the ants on your verandah or the shadows of the trees

and grasses in your garden.
It matters that you care.

It matters that you feel.

It matters that you notice.

It matters that life lives through you.
Contentment is life living through you.

Joy is life living through you.

Satisfaction and strength

are life living through you.

Peace is life living through you.
He says don’t be afraid.

Don’t be afraid.

Look, feel, let life take you by the hand.

Let life live through you.

🌳

by, Roger Keyes is an American professor of East Asian studies. This poem is apparently his cross-media translation of the art of Katsushika Hokusai (1760-1849) into poetry.

  
the stones are alive

the stones speak

tell stories of my life

sing me love songs

respond to my touch

grow warm when I’m near

glow with my compliments

smile with my encouraging words

blush as they rest against my skin

absorb my secrets

reveal my favorite colors

are perfectly comfortable with themselves –

hot or cold

polished or raw

the stones never argue

always tell the truth

give with no demand

accept themselves as beautiful

never question that they are 

amazing,

valuable,

beloved

just the way they are 

just the way we are
AL 

  
  

  

  

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