life: acoustic & amplified

poetry, quotes & thoughts about life

Archive for the category “quiet”

starlight…have you anything to say to me??

 
When Laurens van der Post one night

      In the Kalihari Desert told the Bushmen

              He couldn’t hear the stars

Singing, they didn’t believe him. They looked at him,

      Half-smiling. They examined his face

              To see whether he was joking

Or deceiving them. Then two of those small men

      Who plant nothing, who have almost

              Nothing to hunt, who live

On almost nothing, and with no one

      But themselves, led him away

              From the crackling thorn-scrub fire

And stood with him under the night sky

      And listened. One of them whispered,

              Do you not hear them now?

And van der Post listened, not wanting

      To disbelieve, but had to answer,

              No. They walked him slowly

Like a sick man to the small dim

      Circle of firelight and told him

              They were terribly sorry,

And he felt even sorrier

      For himself and blamed his ancestors

              For their strange loss of hearing,

Which was his loss now. On some clear nights

      When nearby houses have turned off their televisions,

              When the traffic dwindles, when through streets

Are between sirens and the jets overhead

      Are between crossings, when the wind

              Is hanging fire in the fir trees,

And the long-eared owl in the neighboring grove

      Between calls is regarding his own darkness,

              I look at the stars again as I first did

To school myself in the names of constellations

      And remember my first sense of their terrible distance,

              I can still hear what I thought

At the edge of silence where the inside jokes

      Of my heartbeat, my arterial traffic,

              The C above high C of my inner ear, myself

Tunelessly humming, but now I know what they are:

      My fair share of the music of the spheres

              And clusters of ripening stars,

Of the songs from the throats of the old gods

      Still tending even tone-deaf creatures

              Through their exiles in the desert.

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌙🌟

The Silence of the Stars by David Wagoner 

 
Listen to Ella Fitzgerald sing Stella by Starlight http://youtu.be/xDQ-Erg3KlQ

🌟🌙🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

photo sources found at www.pinterest.com/al513 

Abba (breathe in) I belong to you (breathe out) – Brennan Manning

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Empowered to Receive Love

The Spirit reveals to us not only that God is “Abba, Father” but also that we belong to God as his beloved children. The Spirit thus restores in us the relationship from which all other relationships derive their meaning.

Abba is a very intimate word. The best translation for it is: “Daddy.” The word Abba expresses trust, safety, confidence, belonging, and most of all intimacy. It does not have the connotation of authority, power, and control, that the word Father often evokes. On the contrary, Abba implies an embracing and nurturing love. This love includes and infinitely transcends all the love that comes to us from our fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, spouses, and lovers. It is the gift of the Spirit.
– Henri Nouwen
http://www.henrinouwen.org

Trinity meditation

Holy One,
Mysterious Love,
“I Am,”

I wonder; I surrender.

Gentle Christ,
Self-Pouring
Companion,

I thank you; I love you.

Holy Spirit,
Divine Breathing,
Emerging love,

I bear you; I follow you.
______________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
http://www.unfoldinglight.net

The answer is simple, but not easy: be radically yourself. – Mastin Kipp

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So what if we really paid attention
and nickel-and-dimed life away
on afternoon tag by the cedars.
A string of bare toes with a stack of old books.
This one lone bowl filling with morning light.
Day after day, shelling out slow mindfulness
on whatnots of amazing grace,
collecting pieces of God-glory.
This buying of a bit of medicine
that cures ADD of the soul.
– Ann Voskamp

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a morning glimpse

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All human beings are alone. No other person will completely feel like we do, think like we do, act like we do. Each of us is unique, and our aloneness is the other side of our uniqueness. The question is whether we let our aloneness become loneliness or whether we allow it to lead us into solitude. Loneliness is painful; solitude is peaceful. Loneliness makes us cling to others in desperation; solitude allows us to respect others in their uniqueness and create community.

Letting our aloneness grow into solitude and not into loneliness is a lifelong struggle. It requires conscious choices about whom to be with, what to study, how to pray, and when to ask for counsel. But wise choices will help us to find the solitude where our hearts can grow in love.

http://www.henrinouwen.org

waking up alone.
i try to think when i last had
this gift of solitude.
just me
the house quiet.
creating my morning
looking forward to the coming hours
with myself.
don’t know if i’ve ever had quite this
feeling
in the past 48 years.
it’s not my space.
i’m still surrounded
by the energy,
the possessions of another,
but i get a tiny foretaste
of what my home will be
when I finally get there.
i luxuriate in the promise
of this morning.
this slice of freedom
expanding my joy
in my homecoming to be.
i take off all the expectations
and do a little reveling,
soul dancing,
exhale and let a little out.
inhale take a little in.
relax and allow the guard to come down just a bit.
i’m not there yet,
but I’m the closest I’ve ever been.
this moment is a gift.
i can almost smell the soup simmering on my stove top,
the pie in the oven.
i can almost hear the laughter of friends,
maybe even family, around the table.
i can almost touch the softness of the fabrics,
the rich colors,
the art on the walls.
i can almost see the warm light of the fire on the hearth,
already blazing in my heart.
it’s right around the next bend,
the little place
waiting with arms wide open,
saying,
welcome home, beloved,
come on in
and let your hair down –
so glad you’re finally here.

AL 1/19/14

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find your green canoe…

5 

Green Canoe
by Jeffrey Harrison

 I don’t often get the chance any longer
to go out alone in the green canoe
and, lying in the bottom of the boat,
just drift where the breeze takes me,
down to the other end of the lake
or into some cove without my knowing
because I can’t see anything over
the gunwales but sky as I lie there,
feeling the ribs of the boat as my own,
this floating pod with a body inside it …

 also a mind, that drifts among clouds
and the sounds that carry over water—
a flutter of birdsong, a screen door
slamming shut—as well as the usual stuff
that clutters it, but slowed down, opened up,
like the fluff of milkweed tugged
from its husk and floating over the lake,
to be mistaken for mayflies at dusk
by feeding trout, or be carried away
to a place where the seeds might sprout.

http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/

there’s a voice that doesn’t use words. listen. – Rumi

6Infinite Presence, The Beloved, speaks,
draws the universe near with a quiet word.
Out of the heart of all things, their mysterious beauty,
the Divine radiates.

This silence is not silent,
in which God comes to us,
arrayed in the consuming flame of suns,
clothed in stormy seas of galaxies.

God summons the whole created order
to witness us hearing her voice:
“If you are in love with me,
come near.”

Creation nods, and smiles.
This is the Truth, the Source, The One.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

but for now…

3

day 4

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the home of hospitality
is not always what we expect.
the heart of the host
not always easy.
the path of the pilgrim
not always smooth and straight.
a lot of angels
seem to be very scruffy.
the best pastures for the beloved sheep
quite often hard to get to.
the best of life
usually comes the hard way.
the heart of giving
has a dark side as well.
choosing the spiritual life
is not the easy way to go.
in this country of fast food
loud, business, greed
and instant everything.
silence, prayer, self discipline
and serving others
are still the way
to love, joy, peace
and true rich happiness.

AL 2/15/13

the still small voice of love

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Many voices ask for our attention. There is a voice that says, “Prove that you are a good person.” Another voice says, “You’d better be ashamed of yourself.” There also is a voice that says, “Nobody really cares about you,” and one that says, “Be sure to become successful, popular, and powerful.” But underneath all these often very noisy voices is a still, small voice that says, “You are my Beloved, my favor rests on you.” That’s the voice we need most of all to hear. To hear that voice, however, requires special effort; it requires solitude, silence, and a strong determination to listen.

That’s what prayer is. It is listening to the voice that calls us “my Beloved.”

Henri Nouwen

Home

where the dark things are

4aMost of our Advent traditions formed centuries ago among Christian and  pre-Christian Celtic and Germanic peoples, as they approached the winter solstice.  So there’s a lot about darkness, stillness and silence.   Farmers removed idle wagon wheels to make wreaths with candles,  reflecting on the fallow season of waiting and hope. All this darkness  and cold might sound a little off to you who live in Australia, where  summer’s about to begin, or South Africa or Brazil, or for that matter  even Texas. While we’re singing about the “bleak midwinter” the folks in Corpus Christi and Adelaide go to the beach.

We call this a  season of silence and stillness―notice how may carols have silence in  them―but we’re rushing around, busier than ever, and making more noise  than usual ringing bells and singing in public, if you can believe it!  We’re playing music and stringing up extra lights as if to banish the  very darkness and silence we adore.

The darkness and quiet of  December in the north country is a symbol, but not the whole of it.  After all, there isn’t that much bleak, dark midwinter in Bethlehem―and  actually Jesus probably wasn’t born in the winter anyway. “The dawn that breaks upon those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death” has  nothing to do with latitude. The darkness of Advent is the darkness  within, and the darkness of a fearful, competitive world.  The silence  is the deep silence at the center of our souls.  That’s where Advent  happens, and the birth of Christ unfolds.

Where is the darkness in your life? Where are the places in your life where you can’t see,  where the known disappears into the unknown?  Where is that place in  your awareness where you can be without “seeing,” without knowing or  understanding, and be at peace?

Where is the silence in you?  You won’t find it “out there.” Go within. Sit with it.  Sit with it a lot,  and let it speak to you in the language of angels, the language of God,  which is silence.

Your wagon wheels may not be idle, but there is a place of quiet in your soul. Where are the empty places in your  life?  We might feel uncomfortable about  emptiness, but an empty place  is one where the Christ child can come when there is “no room in the  inn” elsewhere. Perhaps even the painfully empty places―the places of  loss, bereavement, poverty or fruitlessness―maybe these are places where even now angels are gathering.

Don’t expect the world to offer  you darkness, silence and stillness.  Go to where  they are, and wait  there. God will meet you there.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
http://www.unfoldinglight.net

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