life: acoustic & amplified

poetry, quotes & thoughts about life

Archive for the category “soul and spirit”

threadΒ 

 

 Something is very gently,

invisibly, silently,
pulling at meβ€”a thread
or net of threads
finer than cobweb and as
elastic. I haven’t tried
the strength of it. No barbed hook
pierced and tore me. Was it
not long ago this thread
began to draw me? Or
way back? Was I
born with its knot about my
neck, a bridle? Not fear
but a stirring
of wonder makes me
catch my breath when I feel
the tug of it when I thought
it had loosened itself and gone.


The Thread by Denise Levertov

 

 

BEGINNING well or beginning poorly, what is important is simply to begin, but the ability to make a good beginning is also an art form, beginning well involves a courageous clearing away of the confusing, the cluttered and the complicated to find the beautiful, often hidden lineaments of the essential and the necessary. 

Beginning is difficult, and our procrastination is a fine, ever-present measure of our reluctance in taking that first close-in, courageous step to reclaiming our happiness. Perhaps, because taking a new step always leads to a kind of radical internal simplification, where, suddenly, very large parts of us, parts of us we have kept gainfully employed for years, parts of us still rehearsing the old complicated story, are suddenly out of a job. There occurs in effect, a form of internal corporate downsizing, where the parts of us too afraid to participate or having nothing now to offer, are let go, with all of the accompanying death-like trauma. In effect we must sit by the death bed of our own old, now departing wishes and come to the new step, learning that this new, less complicated self, and this very simple step, is all that is needed for the new possibilities ahead. 

It is always hard to believe that the courageous step is so close to us, that it is closer than we ever could imagine, that in fact, we already know what it is, and that the step is simpler, more radical than we had thought: which is why we so often prefer to live in an almost world, why we prefer the story to be more elaborate, our identities to be safely clouded by fear, why we want the horizon to remain always in the distance, the promise never fully and simply made, the essay longer than it needs to be and the answer safely in the realm of impossibility.
πŸ’’πŸ’’πŸ’’πŸ’’πŸ’’πŸ’’πŸ’’πŸ’’πŸ’’πŸ’’πŸ’’πŸ’’
β€˜BEGINNING’ From CONSOLATIONS: 
The Solace, Nourishment and Underlying Meaning 
of Everyday Words
Β© 2015 David Whyte and Many Rivers Press

Now Available 

http://davidwhyte.stores.yahoo.net/newbook.html

 

 

 

Listen to Frank Sinatra Love’s Been Good to Me http://youtu.be/9pLpzNPiB48

photo sources foind at www.pinterest.com/al513

  

 

 

 

every little things gonna be alright…

 

Spring Blessing

One day you wake up
able to name the weight 
you’ve been carrying.
Realizing it’s not part of your body or your being,
not essential in any way to journeying or joy,
you set it down gently, without fanfare
in the long soft grass at the side of the road
and walk on
surprised to find yourself
smiling in the warm sun
for no particular reason.

~Oriah Mountain Dreamer Β© 2015

  

Listen to Dinah Washington What A Difference A Day Makes http://youtu.be/OmBxVfQTuvI 

🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈❀️

photo sources found at www.pinterest.com/al513

 

connections

 


This is the house that Jack built!
This is the malt that lay in the house that Jack built.
This is the rat that ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cat that killed the rat
That ate the malt that lay in the house that Jack built.
This is the dog that worried the cat
That killed the rat that ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cow with the crumpled horn
That tossed the dog that worried the cat
That killed the rat that ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the maiden all forlorn
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn
That tossed the dog that worried the cat
That killed the rat that ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the man all tattered and torn
That kissed the maiden all forlorn
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn
That tossed the dog that worried the cat
That killed the rat that ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the priest all shaven and shorn
That married the man all tattered and torn
That kissed the maiden all forlorn
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn
That tossed the dog that worried the cat
That killed the rat that ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cock that crowed in the morn
That waked the priest all shaven and shorn
That married the man all tattered and torn
That kissed the maiden all forlorn
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn
That tossed the dog that worried the cat
That killed the rat that ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the farmer sowing his corn
That kept the cock that crowed in the morn
That waked the priest all shaven and shorn
That married the man all tattered and torn
That kissed the maiden all forlorn
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn
That tossed the dog that worried the cat
That killed the rat that ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built!

🏑🏑🏑🏑🏑🏑🏑🏑🏑🏑🏑

This is the House that Jack Built by Anonymous

 

 

 

 
 

 

  Listen to Miranda Lambert The House that Built Me http://youtu.be/DQYNM6SjD_o

Photo sources found at www.pinterest.com/al513

 

 

 

 

and the sad things begin to be upended… Β  Β  Β – Ann Voskamp

 

 When the cross hits your life, a loneliness, a blindness and a darkness come all around you. Darkness and lostness are the worst parts of suffering. The wonder of the Resurrection is that this darkness was opened out and at the heart of the darkness a secret light was discovered. Each one of us who has come here hasn’t come to this place out of curiosity but we have come because we know the need that is in our lives and we know the frailty that is in our hearts and minds. We are strangers in the world. In our journey through life anything can befall us. It seems to be very difficult for us as humans to learn how to love, to learn how the let the fear and the resentment and the blindness fall away from us and to come into the special joy and peace and freedom of love. No matter how assured or competent we may feel, there is none of us who has not large territories of fear in our hearts, fear of sharing ourselves, of opening ourselves, of entering life. That is why we come to an ancient holy place like this, before the dawn, to let the new tender light of the resurrection touch our helpless fear and transfigure it and open it into courage. 


~ John O’Donohue from his Easter Homily at Corcomroe Abbey 1992

 

Christ is risen!
Christ is risen indeed!

Crucified and risen Christ,
flood my heart with your light
and my soul with your living presence,
that I may trust the victory of God,
the victory of love over violence,
of life over death.
By your rising give me courage
to know that evil and oppression,
though they seem to reign,
have already been defeated.
You who bear me in your heart,
you have raised me up with you,
and set me free from my fear,
free from shame and despair,
free from all that would imprison me,
from all that would keep me 
from loving perfectly. 

Loving Christ, 
I have died in you and risen in you.
May I walk with courage
into this new life.
Amen.

__________________  
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light

www.unfoldinglight.net

 

 Listen to Sandi Patty sing Was It a Morning Like This? 

http://youtu.be/eb1ayV5sTtM

πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†

                                           Shake out your qualms. 
                                                Shake up your dreams. 
                                                Deepen your roots. 
                                                Extend your branches. 
                                                Trust deep water 
                                                and head for the open, 
                                                even if your vision 
                                                shipwrecks you. 
                                                Quit your addiction 
                                                to sneer and complain. 
                                                Open a lookout. 
                                                Dance on a brink. 
                                                Run with your wildfire. 
                                                You are closer to glory 
                                                leaping an abyss 
                                                than upholstering a rut. 
                                                Not dawdling. 
                                                Not doubting. 
                                                Intrepid all the way 
                                                Walk toward clarity. 
                                                At every crossroad 
                                                Be prepared 
                                                to bump into wonder. 
                                                Only love prevails. 
                                                En route to disaster 
                                                insist on canticles. 
                                                Lift your ineffable 
                                                out of the mundane. 
                                                Nothing perishes; 
                                                nothing survives; 
                                                everything transforms! 
                                                Honeymoon with Big Joy! 

Easter Exultet by James Broughton

πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†πŸ”†

photo sources found at

www.pinterest.com/al513

 

good friday

 

come with Jesus to the lynching tree
we stand aside and nod
good thing it wasn’t you or me
but just some lamb of god

we sing our hymns we know them well
we sing our righteous songs
and so we send that boy to hell
for that will right our wrongs

some people weeping in the street
they cry the lynching tree
but we can’t quit the judgment seat
the way it has to be

the boy is dead lay out the pall
it’s finished move along
but how come he forgives us all
before we know it’s wrong

how come the god we slight and say
that it’s all right to kill
the god who died comes back our way
and loves us loves us still

it looks so dark the lynching tree
so dark for you and me
but here’s the strangest thing I see
a bud upon that tree

__________________  
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light

www.unfoldinglight.net

Listen to Adele sing http://youtu.be/4k-W6cZ2CiY

πŸ’”πŸ’”πŸ’”πŸ’”πŸ’”πŸ’”πŸ’”πŸ’”πŸ’”πŸ’”πŸ’”

photo source found at www.pinterest.com/al513

Where there is great love there are always miracles. Β  Β  – Willa Cather

 

 For happiness

Unearthing what she is holding on to

Realizing fears that are not her own

Letting go of what she does not need

Making room for joy

 

The happier she is

The less she needs

 

The less she needs

The more room there is for happiness

 

It is not as easy as it sounds

To excavate her joy

To release fears that are not hers

To understand those that are

Then let go

Takes courage

Takes deep reflection

 

She has to remember

She has to accept

She has to take risks

 

For she lives in this world

Not in the yesterday

Not in the tomorrow

She has to live in today

 

Oh, deep in her heart she wants to make the best of it

Oh, deep in her soul she wants to be in love

Oh, deep in her mind she wants happiness

 

But

In order to decide what that is

She needs to get rid of the distractions

Remember what makes her happy

Find new joy

Explore new avenues

Seek new adventures

She needs to takes risks

 

Surrounded by what she is told

She must have

She must do

She must become

Gathering her courage

Gathering her thoughts

Gathering only that which she needs

 

She lets go of all that no longer serves her

Her home?

Her country?

Her way of life?

Her judgment?

Her perceptions?

Her conditioning?

What does she have?

 

Freedom

Freedom to think

Freedom to move

Freedom to start again

Freedom to learn

Freedom to create

All that she desires

Really

Truly

Simply

 

She becomes a pioneer of discovery

She takes risks

πŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒ

A Woman On Purpose 

http://awomanonpurpose.tv/she-takes-risks/

 Watch Soul Suckers by Amos Lee πŸ’ž

 http://youtu.be/zqidM_U9rgU

πŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒ

photo sources found at www.pinterest.com/al513

engagementΒ 

 

 

When our eyes are graced with wonder, the world reveals its wonders to us. There are people who see only dullness in the world and that is because their eyes have already been dulled. So much depends on how we look at things. The quality of our looking determines what we come to see.

     – John O’Donohue
 
 A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:

Its loveliness increases, it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o’er-darkened ways
Made of our searching; yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits.


Excerpt from “Endymion” Book I by John Keats

Listen to my favorite song!

What A Wonderful World http://youtu.be/A3yCcXgbKrE

photo sources found at www.pinterest.com/al513

 

color guard πŸ’š Β Β 

– Ralph Waldo Emerson

πŸ’šπŸ’šπŸ’šπŸ’šπŸ’šπŸ’šπŸ’šπŸ’šπŸ’šπŸ’šπŸ’šπŸ’šπŸ’š

My heart is green

with the fuzz of springtime growth
borning life again
from the rich, bloody soil
it throbs anew
πŸ’š
My mind is blue
as the sky in sunshine
then
like the night full of stars and glittering tears
it diamond sparkles
πŸ’š
My life is orange
as flames in a forest
fire
breathing the wind
it grows wild
πŸ’š
My love is red
there is no hiding it
passion
real as anything
it woos pilgrims
πŸ’š
My touch is gold
hands, lips on wounds
aching
for velvet skin, shared breath
it heals all
πŸ’š
My soul is pearl
creamy and warm
welcome
to all who come
it opens hearts
πŸ’š
My word is platinum
I seek only truth
wisdom
life with integrity
it unlocks doors
πŸ’š
My work is emerald
deep as the world
brilliant
full of riches
it creates wealth
πŸ’š
My legacy is silver
of the finest made
pure
nothing for me
it’s all about You
πŸ’šπŸ’šπŸ’šπŸ’šπŸ’šπŸ’šπŸ’šπŸ’š
ACL 3/28/15
Β 
Β 

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True Colors by Eva Cassidy

http://youtu.be/uhP0bamERME

photo sources found at

www.pinterest.com/al513

Β 

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 

The Opening of Eyes

 

 That day I saw beneath dark clouds 

the passing light over the water
and I heard the voice of the world speak out,
I knew then, as I had before
life is no passing memory of what has been
nor the remaining pages in a great book
waiting to be read.

It is the opening of eyes long closed.
It is the vision of far off things
seen for the silence they hold.
It is the heart after years
of secret conversing
speaking out loud in the clear air.

It is Moses in the desert
fallen to his knees before the lit bush.
It is the man throwing away his shoes
as if to enter heaven
and finding himself astonished,
opened at last,
fallen in love with solid ground.

  The Opening of Eyes by David Whyte

 

 

 photo sources found at 

www.pinterest.com/al513

 

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