life: acoustic & amplified

poetry, quotes & thoughts about life

Archive for the category “nature”

uphold the integrity of the quest   – spoken @ Infusion Cincinnati 

 

A GLIMPSE

The beauty of the imagination is that it can discover such magnificent vastness inside a tiny space. Our culture is dominated by quantity. Even those who have plenty hunger for more and more. Everywhere around us, the reign of quantity extends and multiplies. Sadly the voyage of greed has all the urgency but no sense of destination. Desire becomes inflated and loses all sense of vision and proportion. When beauty becomes an acquisition it brings no delight. When time seemed longer and slower, the eye of the beholder had more space and distance to glimpse the beautiful. There was a respect for the worlds that could be suggested by a glimpse. 

 John O’Donohue 

 Excerpt from BEAUTY

  

I steal glimpses of beauty,

in all she is – 

this moment,

sky in my rearview. 

A huge bowl of rainbow sherbet

my favorite-color-kind

with raspberry, orange & lime

swatches of lemon, indigo & periwinkle 

float like barges –

in, out 

&

around.

Framing. 

Dancing. 

Living. 

At one point tangerine fills the top of the hilly crest,

headlight stars 

blaze brilliant against the backdrop. 

Indigo stretched above, framing this momentary masterpiece. 

At times I find it hard to keep moving forward

into the matt gray of drudgery ahead.

With so much loveliness 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 in my heart

will ever be answered?

If my whole life I will wait 

for a moment which will never come? 

Will it never be realized under this piece of sky? 

Will it always be this whisper?

The magic of hope,

this thing with wings, 

hovering over my heart

for another 50 years, 

echoing on into eternity.  

🌄

AL

   


  

 

 

morning blessing

   
photos by Fisherman Dan @ Branford, CT

   I place on the alter of dawn:

 The quiet loyalty of breath,

 The tent of thought where I shelter,

 Waves of desire I am shore to

 And all beauty drawn to the eye. 
May my mind come alive today

 To the invisible geography

 That invites me to new frontiers,

 To break the dead shell of yesterdays,

 To risk being disturbed and changed. 
May I have the courage today

 To live the life that I would love,

 To postpone my dream no longer

 But do at last what I came here for

 And waste my heart on fear no more. 

🌀

  – John O’Donohue
Excerpt from, ‘A Morning Offering’

 TO BLESS THE SPACE BETWEEN US (US) / BENEDICTUS (Europe)

  
In the space between breaths 

It can be gone 

A months worth of words 

Erased with a fingertip 

A 12, 30 even 60 year marriage over 

With 4 words spoken: 

I want a divorce 

A home with all it’s possessions 

Destroyed in a matter of minutes in the fury of nature – 

Fire or storm 

Life 

Love

So fragile 

With no guarantees 

Of longevity 

Or comfort 

Begs to be felt

Now 

To be counted for the sake of goodness 

This is the only moment that counts 

The only thing eternal 

Don’t wait 

Take a deep deep breath 

Of the spirit that is giving it all 

Say thank you 

For the only gift that matters 

The only thing that remains 

All else can be destroyed 

When nothing else remains 

What is this eternal gift,

given new every morning? 

Love 

💖

AL

 

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

yesterday   

  
yesterday I was born a leaf

a small fragile tender wisp

trembling as I hung on the vine

yesterday I was a gust of air

short lived, but not insignificant 

full of bone rattling cold and hat disturbing bravado

yesterday I was a large, slow, snow flake

plopping down like a wet goose feather

making the world a magical place

yesterday I was a world made of glass

lying shattered on the floor

hoping to be recycled into a new and useful object

yesterday I was various people

a student, a host, a friend, a lover

feeling my way into the next moment hoping to find a way home

yesterday I stood tall as a tree

shaking, hurting, yet proud, with stubborn certainly 

accepting what winter brings, gently weeping, waiting for spring

❄️

AL

 

   

  

  

fall down 7 times, get up 8 

 

There is a path we all walk in life. All the places we go when the path gets too rocky and exhausting and brutal and beautiful are dead-end detours. If you take these detours you are not bad, but you are wasting your time and energy.

The path looks like this:
Come back to the path.

There’s no other way.

You will never find your perfect life “balance” on the path for the same reason you will never find a unicorn on the path – because these things don’t exist. Forget unicorns and balance. If you were perfectly balanced, you’d never have to take anyone’s hand to steady yourself, and that would be a tragedy.

There is no solid ground on the path — so don’t hold your breath till you find it. Breathe deeply and keep moving forward awkwardly. You can make it down the whole path imbalanced and flailing. When you fall, give thanks for the opportunity to rest. While you’re down, send love to every other path walker who’s down with you at that moment.

Then get back up.

Or crawl. Crawling is encouraged and respected. Path running is fine, but crawling is much better. Crawlers travel with their eyes close to the ground — so they never miss an inch of the beautiful, rocky path. Crawlers get less glory but learn the most about the path’s terrain. 

And know your fellow travelers are both your teachers and students. Your relationships with them will be the hardest part of path walking. To avoid humbling oneself into the role of student and having the courage to position oneself into the role of teacher — many try to walk the path alone.

But the path was not designed for solo treks.

The path was designed to teach Love. Whenever you introduce your true self to a fellow path traveler and listen and speak and learn and stay with her for a while – that is called Love. Walking with and staying with messy fellow path travelers for any length of time is Love. Love is the most brutal and beautiful part of path traveling. Participate. Learn from and teach every path traveler you encounter. Exchanging love with fellow path travelers is how we gather the wisdom and strength we’ll need to overcome the next obstacle on our path.

Note: You do not teach by teaching — you teach by loving. Be humble and courageous.

You always have enough strength.

And courage and wisdom. You always have exactly what you need for your daily trek. Sometimes you won’t believe this, because you will encounter stretches of the path that are treacherous and terrifying, but if you give up in the middle of those stretches — if you sit down permanently in them — then you have to live there. Don’t live in the dark, scary parts. Trust and keep moving. There will be a clearing soon and you will feel the warm sun again.

The One who created your path is outside of time, so your life is an epic movie that has already been scripted. So don’t plan or worry — your job is to trust your path and participate fully and notice as much as you possibly can and keep on moving.

But don’t become proud or ashamed.

Don’t become proud that you are further along than many travelers or ashamed that you are far behind others. Your position on the path relative to other travelers has nothing to do with your strength or stamina or wisdom or cunning. We are all in different places because we all have different entry points to the path.

Where you are and where everyone else is along the path is none of your concern or business.

Let that go.

You are exactly where you are supposed to be, always, and so is everyone else. The portion of the path you wake up to today was written for you. 
Everyone is exactly where he or she is supposed to be. You are not your own or anyone else’s path-planner. You are just a traveler. You just keep moving. Trust the Path. Follow in the footsteps of a billion other mighty travelers who have walked and run and crawled the path before you.

Fear not. And carry on, warrior.

🛤

you’re on by Glennon Doyle Melton

on Donald Miller StoryLine Blog http://storylineblog.com/2016/01/26/make-the-most-of-the-path-youre-on/?utm_campaign=coschedule&utm_source=facebook_page&utm_medium=Donald%20Miller&utm_content=Make%20the%20Most%20of%20the%20Path%20You’re%20On

    

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

honored silence 

 

 If you have seen the snow 
under the lamppost 

piled up like a white beaver hat on the picnic table 

or somewhere slowly falling 

into the brook 

to be swallowed by water, 

then you have seen beauty 

and know it for its transience. 

And if you have gone out in the snow 

for only the pleasure 

of walking barely protected 

from the galaxies, 

the flakes settling on your parka 

like the dust from just-born stars, 

the cold waking you 

as if from long sleeping, 

then you can understand 

how, more often than not, 

truth is found in silence, 

how the natural world comes to you 

if you go out to meet it, 

its icy ditches filled with dead weeds, 

its vacant birdhouses, and dens 

full of the sleeping. 

But this is the slowed-down season 

held fast by darkness 

and if no one comes to keep you company 

then keep watch over your own solitude. 

In that stillness, you will learn 

with your whole body 

the significance of cold 

and the night, 

which is otherwise always eluding you. 

❄️

Winter Grace by Patricia Fargnoli

 

  

  

 

seeing eternity 

 

Let these be your desires: To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night. To know the pain of too much tenderness. To be wounded by your own understanding of love; And to bleed willingly and joyfully. To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving; To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy; To return home at eventide with gratitude; And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.                    

    – Kahlil Gibran

   

My language the size of a seed, small and frozen for a winters night…the sweet drain of being married to the fire side heat and slippers …

Honey drenched while walking towards the woods …

tender landscape of icicles frozen on glass…

a mirror wiped dry of reflection…

something pierced deep in the breast while creating less, and easing into body’s rhythm 

the howl of the moon, the darkness too bright…

devoured by love…

seeking water but kept thirsty…

fabulous root in the deep of my core…a sigh left for longing…

Beauty,

Donna Knutson

 

 
Under the light of eternity
things,
the daily trivia,
the daily frustrations,
fall away.
It is all a matter of getting to the center of the beam.  
~ May Sarton, Journal of a Solitude

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

each piece 

  
I am struck by the otherness of things rather than their sameness. 

The way a tiny pile of snow perches in the crook of a branch in the

tall pine, away by itself, high enough not to be noticed by people, 

out of reach of stray dogs. It leans against the scaly pine bark, busy

at some existence that does not need me. 
It is the differences of objects that I love, that lift me toward the rest

of the universe, that amaze me. That each thing on earth has its own

soul, its own life, that each tree, each clod is filled with the mud of

its own star. I watch where I step and see that the fallen leaf, old

broken grass, an icy stone are placed in exactly the right spot on the

earth, carefully, royalty in their own country

❄️
Looking for the Differences by Tom Hennen

❄️

top photo found at http://www.pinterest.com

   
    
    
    
    
    

photos by Fisherman Dan @ Branford, CT 

❄️

O come thou Mystery,

unseen, unbidden, unfelt,

but so madly needed here.
Come to us 

who push you away with our despair,

snare us with wonder.
Come to us, the lonely and broken,

O Small One,

not to solve but to be with.
Come to us who grieve 

place or worth or hope,

and find it with us.
Come to us in our smugness

and lay yourself down in the manger

of our secret wounds.
Come to us in our privilege

and let us hang our lives

on a poor little peasant child. 
Come to us in our violent fear

and calm us with your tiny voice.

Ask us to love you. 
For us who find it hard to love each other,

come and gather us in a circle,

have us care, have us sing. 
Come to us, too afraid to need, 

be fragile among us, 

and let us fall in love.
Neglect our neglect, Emmanuel,

come and be a tiny flame of love among us,

and light our own.
__________________ 

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net

   

gift

 

 Longest night.

Darkness falls like snow,

falls and falls, 

deepening.

Older than the universe,

here before it,

and will be after.

Wraps an arm around us

as if we’re old friends.

We are.

Darkness lives in us,

radiates from us.

We speak it.

Darkness is the velvet cloth

where you cherish the gem

of your presence among us,

darkness the womb,

darkness the manger

that cradles your light,

this holy being

that becomes us,

births us.

In the darkness

you do not come to us,

we come from you.

Because you are with and not apart,

even the darkness

is you.

Because you shine in it

the dark is our dark,

none of it unchanged.

Your being our light,

your hereness our life,

shining in the longest night.

__________________

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net

 

 To go into the darkness with a light 
is to know the light. 

To know the dark, go dark. 

Go without light and find that the dark too, blooms and sings 

and is traveled by dark feet and dark wings. 

– Wendell Berry 

  
Black. out. black. 

Black. on. black. 

Dark. on dark. on dark. 

I was simply looking for home. 

Not knowing the current alley would lead 

to where the sidewalk ended 

I stepped off the edge 

out of the world of light 

waking into morning night 

a banished sun 

no stars 

or moon 

or streetlights 

or fireflies 

or lighters 

in pitch darkness 

I lay, unable to move, 

senses adjusting 

to what is my new reality 

hearing the life 

that lives here 

wondering if I’ll make friends 

while I’m here 

learning this new space. 

🌌

AL

 

 Gift suggestions: 
To your enemy –  forgiveness. 

 To an opponent – tolerance. 

   To a friend – your heart. 

     To a customer – service. 

       To every child – a good example. 

          To all – love. 

💞

           – Oren Arnold

  

finding center

 

 I think that I shall never see 
A poem lovely as a tree. 
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest 

Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast; 
A tree that looks at God all day, 

And lifts her leafy arms to pray; 
A tree that may in Summer wear 

A nest of robins in her hair; 
Upon whose bosom snow has lain; 

Who intimately lives with rain. 
Poems are made by fools like me, 

But only God can make a tree.

🎄

Trees by Joyce Kilmer

   
photo by Jen Lemen

🌳

 The simplest things in life 

Are the most extraordinary 

Let them reveal themselves. 

– Paulo Coelho 

🌲

There is magic in every little thing. 

Your very breath is magic 

You, showing up on this tiny planet, 

at this very time in history. 

The way the sun glints off your hair. 

The way the trees recognize you. 

The way a child can turn their head 

and plunge you into grief. 

it’s all about perspective. 

Einstein reminds us 

We have a choice in how we live. 

One of two ways – 

As if nothing –

OR

As if everything –

Is miraculous. 

I’m so glad I choose to see the enchanted pathway. 

It’s always a fine day here. 

No matter what circumstance I find myself in. 

Magic abounds.  

🌳

AL

  

Nothing separates us, my dear, nothing except what you want to keep separate. We are united because I have made it so.      – Loop 

 

 I want to make a poem
that slips into the heart stream 

quietly, tenderly,

with no great splash

just a graceful entry, 

with minimal ripples

which plunges deeply upon entering

and allows the mud to settle gracefully around it. 

I want to make a poem

which allows the heart to trust,

to open,

to flower in it’s own time

knowing, for sure,

   it is dependable,

steady,

written to last 

through the fiercest storms

    though the world burn

and the mountains crumble

words of love

    so beautiful 

           so eternal 

they come to life

   each time they are read,

    or spoken

and anyone who dares to read the poem I make

cannot help but

   find within themselves  

clouds of peace

   wrapped up in thick blankets of joy 

  and will forever know for sure 

    they are 

          beloved

❤️

AL 

 

Everything real comes through the heart. When it is truly opened, everything secondary falls away- egoic glory, fame and fortune, substitute gratifications. The heart doesn’t care about such things. It doesn’t hold it against you if you don’t own your own home, achieve your goals, have a perfect body. The heart doesn’t care what you have earned or accumulated. No matter our seeming differences, we are all the same when the heart gate opens. Deep feeling levels the playing field.

Love is the great equalizer.

     – Jeff Brown

  

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