life: acoustic & amplified

poetry, quotes & thoughts about life

Archive for the category “nature”

hummingΒ 

 
  

One old man keeps humming the same few notes
of some song he thought he had forgotten
back in the days when as he knows there was
no word for life in the language 
and if they wanted to say eyes or heart
they would hold up a leaf and he remembers
the big tree where it rose from the dry ground
and the way the birds carried water in their voices
they were all the color of their fear of the dark
and as he sits there humming he remembers
some of the words they come back to him now
he smiles hearing them come and go

🎢🎢🎢🎢🎢🎢🎢🎢🎢🎢

Parts of a Tune by W. S. Merwin

🎢🎢🎢🎢🎢🎢🎢🎢🎢🎢

Just lying on the couch and being happy. 
Only humming a little, the quiet sound in the head.
Trouble is busy elsewhere at the moment, it has
so much to do in the world.

People who might judge are mostly asleep; they can’t

monitor you all the time, and sometimes they forget.
When dawn flows over the hedge you can
get up and act busy.

Little corners like this, pieces of Heaven

left lying around, can be picked up and saved.
People wont even see that you have them,
they are so light and easy to hide.

Later in the day you can act like the others.

You can shake your head. You can frown.

Any Morning by William Stafford

 
    

 Listen to James Taylor sing You’ve Got A Friend http://youtu.be/xEkIou3WFnM

Quote/photo sources found at www.pinterest.com/al513

always return

 

 


When I was the stream, when I was the

forest, when I was still the field,

when I was every hoof, foot,

fin and wing, when I 

was the sky

itself,


no one ever asked me did I have a purpose, no one ever

wondered was there anything I might need,

for there was nothing

I could not

love.


It was when I left all we once were that 

the agony began, the fear and questions came,

and I wept, I wept. And tears

I had never known

before. 


So I returned to the river, I returned to 

the mountains. I asked for their hand in marriage again,

I beggedβ€”I begged to wed every object

and creature, 


and when they accepted,

God was ever present in my arms.

And He did not say,

β€œWhere have you

been?” 


For then I knew my soul – every soul- has always held

Him. 

🌳🌳🌳🌳🌳🌳🌳🌿

“When I Was the Forest” by Meister Eckhart 

🌳

 

Listen to Kari Jobe sing Be Still My Soul http://youtu.be/mq59iE3MhXM

photo sources found at www.pinterest.com/al513


 

 

The creative process is a process of surrender, not control. – Julia Cameron

 
 

  

  

   

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

 

 

 So full of life and beauty today I had to pull over and take a few pictures to remember this gorgeous day!!! Very full heart! So grateful! xo 

it’s all about the heart

Its incredible how one’s needs can be so contrary from one moment to the next.

Or maybe vociferousness is not for me.

The day was warm and the park beckoned. I reached for the camera but then left it behind.

There was a need for silence. I did not want to capture an outward display of appreciation. Instead, I took it inward. I wanted it to implode within and drown me in its presence. To let it pool in the center of my being and then let it burgeon with the stillness of the woods. Tender, quiet, restful. A balm, a solace, a gathering of the wayward sinews of breath and then, a releasing.

An unraveling, a crumbling of the walls of the fortress. And then, a gentle rebuilding.

🌳🌳🌳🌳🌳🌳🌳🌳🌳🌳🌳🌲

The Fortress of One’s Heart by Rama DesaiΒ https://ramaink.wordpress.com

Β 

photo sources atΒ www.pinterest.com/al513

Stop now for one minute. Say a silent prayer of thanks for your life. Pain will pass. Joy will remain. Β  Β  Β  – Paulo Coelho

ο»Ώ

ο»ΏI will have become like

the madman running 
to see the moon
in the window,
the hawk
I saw tracing the cliff edge 
above the river.
I will be the man 
I have pursued all along
and finally caught.

I will be 
all my intuitions
and all my desires
and then I will walk 
slowly down the steps
as if dressed in white
and wade into
the water for 
a second baptism.

I will be like 
someone who cannot 
hide their love
but
my joy will become ordinary
and everyday
and like a lover
I will find out
exactly what it is like
to be the happiest, the only one 
in creation
to really 
understand how much, 
I’m just
a hair’s breadth
from dying.


Mortality My Mistress by David Whyte (excerpt)
ο»Ώο»Ώ
Watch
Ghost by Ella Henderson
ο»Ώο»Ώ
You who live temperate zones,
who haven’t lived through these months here
of cold, shoveling snow, shoveling more
snow, living in box canyons of snow,
under worried roofs, dripping walls,
chipping ice, walking stiff-kneed on ice,
dressing complicatedly for every sojourn,
the layers, the precautions, things matted,
frozen shut, the dark skies, 
skies continually falling, dark,
if you haven’t looked out windows
trying to remember what a yard looks like,
trying to guess where the ground is,
longing for green, longing for smells, 
longing to walk across grass, to be outside 
and not hurt, longing for something 
to be easyβ€”do you know this yearning
for light, for warmth, for beauty, for release,
do you know this ache? 

I believe you know it
with or without the metaphor in your yard.
It’s the ache for the new world,
for the old life to close its winter eye,
the ice grave to crack wide open,
for your true self to walk toward you
out of the darkness. It’s the ache 
for freedom, the long, dark ache for Easter.  

It’s not a bad thing 
to live in the longing, with even grace
not merely laid at your feet yet,
not of your doing, but purely gift. 
To know you are waiting, 
and what you are hungry for.  
And how deep is your longing.
And that it is coming. 

Today is the first day of spring.
The forecast is for snow.

I am filled with hope. 
__________________  
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net


ο»Ώ


photo sources found at

use your special eyes

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Sometimes you forget to think,
to analyze and compartmentalize,
and instead you just gaze,
and finally you really see,
see the glory hidden in the ordinary,
the light in the stone,
the angelic being
in the person next to you.

Maybe righteousness
is not moral perfection
but seeing clearly,
with the delight and wonder
with which God sees,
seeing with eyes for holiness,
seeing the divine in people
and treating them so.

Maybe faith
is not certitude
but seeing what is truly before you,
seeing the bud in the bud,
the child in the child,
and remembering
even when you do not see.

Maybe enlightenment
is not understanding
but seeing the light
as if for the first time.

Maybe wisdom
is not knowing
but looking.
__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
http://www.unfoldinglight.net

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Photos by Fisherman Dan @ Branford, CT

In Deep Snow

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Walk past people sealed in their houses,
silence piled up on their roofs,
into the palimpsest of the woods,
thigh deep in the smoothness,
the substance of silence,
the weight of the light.
Snow in the trees, beneath the trees,
branches bowed with the weight of heaven.
In the open field the white
spreads like a calm sea.
The brook admits you;
beneath you know you are walking on her back.
At the far end of the frozen marsh
stand among the falling constellations
until it is possible
to belong in the cold and quiet,
to be erased and redrawn,
to be a flake in this drift of silence,
blanketed by the softly falling presence,
covered in God.
__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
http://www.unfoldinglight.net

To receive Unfolding Light as a daily e-mail, write to Steve at unfoldinglight(at)gmail.com

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Photos by Fisherman Dan @ Branford, CT

The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree

Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.

Dust of Snow by Robert Frost

you otter know…

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I was walking in the forest
I was feeling all alone
The birds and bees were sleeping,
the weeping willow weeping

Then I heard a little creature
Start moving oh so slow
and the little brook began to play
music with its toes
the woodpecker was keeping time
upon that tall oak tree
and I could not help start dancing
cause I knew it was for me
and as I whirled and twirled about
I came upon a log
where the beaver and the otter
were acting more like hogs
and then they each began to croon
they’re words were oh so rare
I stood there for a moment
my foot still in the air

and they sang to me…

You otter know I love you
loved you from the start
(well, if you’ll beaver me
then I’ll beaver you
You never walk alone)
You otter know I love you
love your precious heart
(well, beaver me it’s true
I’ve always loved you
You’re never far from home)

and the band it just kept playing
and my happy heart did gasp
Cause this was so much better
than that silly talking a**
uhhh donkey

Then my heart it felt so happy
and my eyes at last could see
That though I hadn’t been aware
You’d never once left me
and as I danced on down that path
I swear I sang this song
The one my friends had written,
which had been there all along

and I sang…

You otter know I love you
loved you from the start
(if you’ll beaver me
then I’ll beaver you
You never walk alone)
You otter know I love you
love your precious heart
(beaver me it’s true
I’ve always loved you
You’re never far from home

So as I must now end this tale
I want you all to see
that I am not so special
you’re just as loved as me
So come along don’t hesitate
hurry up, don’t wait
just find the groove
dance all day long
help me sing our song…

You otter know I love you
loved you from the start
(if you’ll beaver me
then I’ll beaver you
You never walk alone)
You otter know I love you
love your precious heart
(beaver me it’s true
I’ve always loved you
You’re never far from home

ACL 2/5/15

Ephesians 1:4
Even before he made the world, God loved us and chose us in Christ to be holy and without fault in his eyes.
New Living Translation

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photo source tracks found at

snow day

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Photos by Fisherman Dan @ Branford, CT

Top photo source track found at

dreaming

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If I could lift that corner of sunlight that slants
that cuts a dashing swath of burnt yellow across the room,
I would swirl it around without a care and toss it
across my shoulders and breathe in its warmth,
its musty breathe redolent with time without end.

I would huddle within its glorious arms, sinews melting,

and dream of fields under a summer sky.

Rama Desai
https://ramaink.wordpress.com

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Gayatri Prayer

You who are the source of all power,
Whose rays illuminate the world,
Illuminate also my heart
So that it too can do Your work.
πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™
While reciting this prayer, visualize the sun’s rays streaming forth into the world, entering your heart, then streaming from your heart’s center back into the world.
πŸ’žπŸ’žπŸ’žπŸ’žπŸ’žπŸ’žπŸ’žπŸ’žπŸ’žπŸ’žπŸ’ž

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