life: acoustic & amplified

poetry, quotes & thoughts about life

Archive for the category “nature”

I am here to tell you morning has come 

there’s this whisper promise 

in the breeze,

a bit of ethereal fog slipping between the sheets 

of night 

and dawn breaking.
there’s this rumor running 

afoot in this new born day,

a sideways glance of something – 

Oh it’s JOY! 

and all this glory burning hot. 
there’s this holy hushing

songs of angels,

a chorus of bluebells

bowing heads

softly clapping

as they watch it all approaching. 
there’s this first blush of light,

smudging darkness,

a bit like the bitter and sweet

mixed each day with our longing 

for joy to come nest. 
there’s a song playing on low

sometimes you forget to remember 

be still and know

as sure as spring follows winter

love always wins

listen to your heartbeat 

joy is our birthright 

right now

morning has come

Amy Lloyd (AL)

It could happen any time, tornado,

 earthquake, Armageddon. It could happen.

 Or sunshine, love, salvation.
It could, you know. That’s why we wake

 and look out — no guarantees

 in this life.
But some bonuses, like morning,

 like right now, like noon,

 like evening. 
-William Stafford

At times, our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us.


 – Albert Schweitzer

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, 



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…


they are a changing!

I invite everyone to choose forgiveness rather than division, teamwork over personal ambition.- Jean-Francois Cope  

We never know who we are

( this is strange , isn’t it?)
or what vows we made

or who we knew
or what we hoped for

or where we were
when the world’s dreams

were seeded.
Until the day just one of us

sighs a gentle longing

and we all feel the change.
One of us calls a name

and we all know to be there.
One of us tells a dream

and we all breathe life into it.
One of us asks “why?”

and we all know the answer.
It is very strange

We never know who we are.


We never know who we are by Margaret Wheatley

I’m not perfect

Far far from it

Im so far from perfect

It’s really not necessary 

for me to make that announcement 
You’re not perfect either

I’m not holding either 

Of us to that standard

That comes with way to high 

A price to pay 
I’m human 

So are you

no real surprise

I embrace our humanity

And the delicate balance

Of our chemistry of imperfection

Wrapped in choices
Choices move us in one direction 

or another

In one direction is the path 

which brings peace love joy



Blossoming, flowering with joy
The other path is where lives 

greed lust ego

emptiness that destroys peace 



Stealing the joy from our living
Our very humanity 

The quality of our living 

hangs in the balance of our choices

The choices are never completely one direction,

we roam the depths of both paths,

always becoming more,



new pieces of ourselves. 
It’s all important,

it’s also important to know, for sure, what we want our lives to be about,

in order not to end up stuck in a life we don’t want. 
Each of us have free will 

Each of us are responsible only for our own lives. 

I made my choice to continue moving towards the light,

imperfectly but steadily, 

years ago


Amy Lloyd (AL)

My birds arrive from tropics

and glaciers I can’t imagine.
My river sparkles into a distance

I’ve never seen.
Some days the volcano trembles

and all I can do is wonder.
When my Beloved finds wild animals in me

should I be alarmed or merely startled?
I thought I understood, looked

in the mirror enough to recognize me,
but now you have re-created me entirely

and I must start over. Again. 


Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

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

Wildflowers grow without


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



buy this goodness!

if you look for me…


my teacher

my school

my temple

my shed

my friend

my lover

my passion

my peace

my darkness

my shining

my opening

my knowledge 

my quests

my mystery

my luminosity

my path

my return

my budding

my harvest

my seasons

my eternal 

my connection 

my uniqueness

my blush

my beauty

my ravaging

my savaging

my circle

my arrow

my path

my journey 

my longing

my desire

my tryst

my trust

my hope

my haven

my safety 

my risk

my skip-itty-doo-dah

the hair on my chinny-chin-chin

my space

my intimacy

my solitude

my family

my found

my faith

my dancing

my lame

my music

my words

my rhythm 

my song

my vision

my sight

my lost

my found

my sin

my soul

my tears

my laughter

my being

my belonging

my life 

my love

my looking in

my letting go

my begging

my abundance

my start

my stop

my end

my beginning

my heart

my skin

my senses

my fences

my flash 

my fire

my living

my death

my creator

my Spirit

my wound

my healer

my receiver

my giver

my adventure 

my wild

my silence

my sound

my doo-be-doobie-do

my fa-la-la-la

my going

my coming

my heaven 

my home

my ashes

my resurrection 

my grounding

my wings

my births

my deaths

my everything 



photos by Fisherman Dan @ Branford, CT

in the heart of the yellow sun

the great current

the blinding white stars 

over a blue sheet


when this age has passed

and thunder rolled back its 

ringing flames

nestled in the high pines                 

of course these wild atoms of your heart


swallowed by the great current

the burning wings

the wedding at cana

and so it happens

to each and all

water to wine

flesh to light


it is summer now

in the skies long house

a rib cage of heat and fragrance

surrounded by 5000

your a lifted fish 

or a loaf

in the hands of christ


it is no wonder now

you are surrounded 

by immigrants and thresholds

 as vulnerable as dew

 in a field of fire


it is useless now 

to utter

the unsayable

why would you want to burn redemption

when the whole world is an open secret

totally lifted 

and out of proportion

Adam A DeFranco

what am I missing? 

The speaker points out 

that we don’t really have

much of a grasp of things, 

not only the big things,

the important questions, 

but the small everyday


“How many steps up to your back yard? 

What is the name of your district representative? 

What did you have for breakfast? 

What is your wife’s shoe size? 

Can you tell me the color of your sweetheart’s eyes? 

Do you remember where you parked the car?” 

The evidence is overwhelming.

Most of us never truly experience life. 

“We drift through life in daydream, 

missing the true richness and joy that life has to offer.” 

When the speaker has finished we gather around to sing a few inspirational songs. 

You and I stand at the back of the group and hum along 

since we have forgotten most of the words.

The Speaker by Louis Jenkins

Mary Oliver reminds me

to let go of any need that might linger in me

to, even try, to impress anyone. 

But to 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 let life boggle my mind.

To stay a child of joy and nature,

a collector of miracles. 

To stay in awe of sunsets

and dandelions,

coffee shops

and grasshoppers.

To gasp every time I get a view of the ocean,

to be breathless at the view from a mountaintop road at sunset. 

To feel wonder when I see a leaf change color.

To crane my neck, every single time, to catch a glimpse of sunlight on water,

to thrill everytime I touch 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 every beautiful, glorious word. 

We are each here to do our part,

to record our miracles

in our own voices, 






we make up this tapestry,

we record the blazing glory,

the divine masterpiece. 

We each add notes to the grand symphony,

allowing the rocks to stay silent – 

at least for those who

don’t care to listen for the exquisite, out-of-this-world music they share – 

we play on through each day 

with such brilliance, light and passion,

savoring delight, 

everywhere we go…

until we are gone, 

and those who come behind us

find it all fresh and new once more,

and begin to tell their part of the story, 

in their own beautiful, unique ways. 



light pours through  

photos by Fisherman Dan @ Branford, CT

Mist rises through light poured into the meadow,

blessing breathed into the world.
Here, on the sidewalk, without

having to know, you inhale it.
Not the meadow you saw 

gleaming this morning,
but one far off. This light has come far

to find you. 

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light


If anything matters then everything matters.       – Wm Paul Young

Love sometimes wants to do us a great favor: hold us upside down and shake all the nonsense out.
Your love

Should never be offered to the mouth of a stranger,

Only to someone who has the valor and daring

To cut pieces of their soul off with a knife

Then weave them into a blanket

To protect you.
Stay close to any sounds that make you glad you are alive.
Ever since happiness heard your name, it has been running through the streets trying to find you.

I wish I could show you when you are lonely or in the darkness, the astonishing light of your own being.
There are different wells within your heart.

Some fill with each good rain,

Others are far too deep for that
Fear is the cheapest room in the house. I would like to see you living in better conditions.
Even after all this time the sun never says to the Earth, “You owe me”
There is no pleasure without a tincture of bitterness.


   – Hafez

I stand in the cold surf


for what I am to receive 

I look at,

then past,

glistening rocks,

colored shells,

green sea glass,

none of them right. 

My back to the Sound,

head down,

Waves coming and going,

Sand shifting under my wet feet. 

I scan, 

wait for what I must recognize –

 then I see it. 


a black glob of rocks stuck together 

browns and grey and bits of reds

it’s ugly

it’s heavy

it’s rough

it’s jagged

it’s not what I thought I wanted,

it’s not what I thought was valuable. 

what is it, that the water has just delivered, 

and I feel lead to pick up

to take home with me?

I want it to be romantic. 


I search for romance…

Could it be a meteorite?

a mystery from another planet?  
I walk the mile home,

wondering what lessons I will learn from this ‘gift’

I have just received from the ocean. 

Almost home,

one more curve,

I spot my favorite kinda caterpillar,

the brown and black,

softest, loveliest velvet

crawler in the world. 

I loved the feel of them as a little girl,

let them crawl all over me.

I pass it,

then double back, 

as directed by intuition,

to visit this small friend. 

I am bent down,

as my fuzzy friend moves along,

and recognition comes. 

I carry, 

in my hands….

a piece of the road,  

which came to me by way of the ocean. 
I belly laugh 

as I my lesson, 

my gift,

becomes clear. 

I am,

 right now,

every moment,

in the ocean of grace

no matter where I am

the path is in the ocean of love,

of God. 
This road is everywhere!
It rises to meet me,

no matter where I stand!
I comes one small glimpse at a time. 
This is gift –

teaching me what I need,

bringing me diamonds with each step. 






is the best gift. 
We are always loved

The message is waiting in 

every surf,

every leaf,

every tree,

every song,

every heart beat,

every tiny created thing,

every little moment,

breathes and burns. 
Oh, Beloved,

Remove your shoes. 

Dive into the sky! 


holy, holy, holy!

then fly away 


I’ll meet you there! 



gone fishing 

There is sensual pleasure in a small act done well 

My whole being loves how you cast that fishing rod

sight, sound, smell, touch, hearing all involved




It sticks with me and loops in my memory – 

this beautiful dance of motion

playing again and again

the quick, sure whip of the rod,

the slow arc of the line against the blue sky before it breaks the water,

the vulture floating high in the blue and white, being themselves, 

sure of their importance,

not questioning their beauty,

or the importance of their purpose,

the graceful, smooth winding of the reel,

the flash of the silver lure dancing below the surface of the green water 

your patience as you teach me, 

a very amature student –

all revealing a new layer of beauty,

I want to learn this rhythm,

my soul responds with deep desire,

I want to be a natural part of this world,

a silver flash,

a big blue sky. 



Birds know north without looking.

Some fish have a line down their bodies

to sense electrical fields

or changes in water pressure.

Jumping spiders see ultraviolet.

Bees have a little compass of iron

and can read earth’s magnetic field. 

And there’s a little silver thing in you

that listens to the Holy Spirit.

It’s really quiet, so you have to be quiet

to hear it listening, but it hears.

You don’t have to hear God;

just let the little silver thing in you

listen to the Spirit and speak 

to the rest of your body. 

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

* 4 middle Fish photos above were taken by Fisherman Dan @ Branford, CT

go outside to go inside

The plains ignore us,

but these mountains listen,

an audience of thousands

holding its breath

in each rock. Climbing,

we pick our way

over the skulls of small talk.

On the prairies below us,

the grass leans this way and that

in discussion;

words fly away like corn shucks

over the fields.

Here, lost in a mountain’s

attention, there’s nothing to say.

Visiting Mountains by Ted Kooser

Post Navigation