Vulnerability | life: acoustic & amplified

Archive for the category “Vulnerability”

17 Sep 2016

the sensual colors of poetry

I like your wide open window soft abandon

your wild free wheelin rambunctiousness

your inexplicable

untamed

a soft new invention

a wilderness

a concoction of sensual indigenous aromas

and I want to hear you sing

your wild buffalo song

my axe wailing some new chord

with the sun on our backs

cool water in our packs

I want our hikes to go on for days

months years

exploring everything wild

and real

fully contaminated with green forest and wild herbs

till our blood is so fully and completely inoculated

with chlorophyll and light

that our dreams become plainly visible

as the light runs from the skies

and the sun dims

we will lie on warm ground

inventing a new perfume

under a blanket of whispering stars

🔥

Adam A. DeFranco

I’m in an open relationship

with my heart.

How can I contain my passion for snails?

For otters, milkweed in autumn,

the holes in old socks that live

for decades in a drawer,

stray cats, lonely porcelain

Sleeping Beauty and the Prince

salt and pepper shakers,

coyotes moaning in the wetland,

wayward petals that wander

far from their roses

on rain-swollen breaths of September.

Each creature, I’m afraid,

is my favorite partner.

You, you above all.

I say that to everyone, don’t I?

After love making,

the universe and I just lie here

gazing through our tears.

Who is the sweat-beaded Dancer?

Who is the Witness wearing only

a necklace of stars?

One who burns completely,

leaving neither smoke

nor ashes,

becomes pure.

❤️
Alfred K. LaMotte

Yes, God is mysterious as fog,

but please, don’t give me that stuff

about God playing hard to get.

She is so into you

I can’t believe you don’t see it.

She’s flagrant about it.

She writes you the steamiest letters

in the colors of sky and leaf,

in stone and sea and child,

her hands are all over you,

she has moves that—admit it—

make you blush.

He’s in your dreams,

whispers to you when you aren’t listening.

You think those scriptures are some dry text

but it’s him, fawning all over you,

saying your name.

She wears the most revealing outfits,

struts her stuff, begs for attention.

They’ve always been like that.

Going on singles cruises,

trolling the skankiest bars in town,

hoping for luck.

She has no shame, no holding back.

I’d take her aside and talk to her

about decorum and such,

but golly,

I can’t even get in the same room with her

without her climbing all over me.

She’s yours, mate.
Yeah, it’s a little wild. Razor’s edge.

I get why you pull back.

But listen.

Secretly, so in the dark you don’t even know,

it’s your own heart that’s flirting

with everything that moves.

She’s the one

who’s holding you quietly, calmly, murmuring,

“Easy. Easy. I’m right here.

You’ve got me. It’s OK.”
______________________

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net

I want to kiss you forever

I want to lay with you

in a tangle of sheets and tongues and crazy, wild hair

with the rain beating against the foggy windowpane

and touch your face

as our warm

eyes and souls and bodies

melt into one

with God

the perfect trifecta

I want to stay there

forever

and then another endless, beautiful day

I’ll not ever ask for more

than to love

and be loved

like this

by you

💋

Amy Lloyd (AL)

You can

die for it–

an idea,

or the world. People
have done so,

brilliantly,

letting

their small bodies be bound
to the stake,

creating

an unforgettable

fury of light. But
this morning,

climbing the familiar hills

in the familiar

fabric of dawn, I thought
of China,

and India

and Europe, and I thought

how the sun
blazes

for everyone just

so joyfully

as it rises
under the lashes

of my own eyes, and I thought

I am so many!

What is my name?
What is the name

of the deep breath I would take

over and over

for all of us? Call it
whatever you want, it is

happiness, it is another one

of the ways to enter

fire.

~ Mary Oliver, New and Selected Poems

Remember: Joy is not a sin; sacrifice is not a virtue.

❤️ Paulo Coelho ❤️

Posted in Adventure, attitude, awareness, beauty, Becoming Yourself, beloved, connection, courage, find art at pinterest, Happiness, healing, intimacy, Letting Go, Life, Love, mystery, Passion, Poetry, Relationships, risk, soul and spirit, transformation, Trust, truth, Vulnerability, www.pinterest.com | Leave a comment

22 Aug 2016

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,

dreamed,

done…

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…

times…

they are a changing!

Posted in action, Adventure, attitude, awareness, be, Becoming Yourself, Beginning, Beliefs, Change, Choice, courage, create, determination, Encouragement, find art at pinterest, Freedom, Gratitude, Grieving, Growth, healing, inspiration, intimacy, Leadership, Letting Go, Life, Love, mystery, nature, Passion, perceptions, Relationships, soul and spirit, strength, transformation, Trust, truth, Vulnerability, www.pinterest.com | Leave a comment

17 Aug 2016

Love, like fire, can only reveal its brightness On the failure and beauty of burnt wood. – Philippe Jaccottet

Everyone is having a hard time. Everyone is insecure. Everyone is hassled. Everyone is tired–we all need more sleep. Everyone wishes he had more courage, more money, and better social skills. Everyone wants more glamour in his life, and we all desperately need more laughter. Few can figure out how they ended up living the life they lead. Don’t be misled by flippant talk; it’s a battle for everyone.
🔥

– Joshua Halberstam

the flesh covers the bone

and they put a mind

in there and

sometimes a soul,

and the women break

vases against the walls

and the men drink too

much

and nobody finds the

one

but keep

looking

crawling in and out

of beds.

flesh covers

the bone and the

flesh searches

for more than

flesh.

there’s no chance

at all:

we are all trapped

by a singular

fate.

nobody ever finds

the one.

the city dumps fill

the junkyards fill

the madhouses fill

the hospitals fill

the graveyards fill

nothing else

fills.
—

Alone With Everybody by Charles Bukowski

in the world between worlds

where the shimmering abstract

holds all the secrets within us

words are absent

no scripture exists

there are no definitions

as there is no need for such things

in our eternal knowing

we are ever-being known

the mystic colors of God fill us

unseeable in this earthly realms obscured vision

they hold us there

where we don’t need to be understood

or understand anything

we are simply

all we could ever hope to be

we are the lover and the beloved

eternal love

eternally loved

complete

You in I

I in you

one

until the scab scraping

demand of this waking earth

this illusion glazed moment we choose to serve

pulls us completely blinded

into a day in a life

pushes us ass-backward

into the harsh reality

of jaded time

of hard-earned, hard-learned experience

of continually disappointed expectation

of broken hearts, once tender

of broken dreams, once beautiful

broken everything, once whole and healthy

and instead of fighting for our very lives,

we put away our dreaming space,

as if it were somehow the wrong

we decide we’ve learned the truth –

that love hurts –

though what we’ve learned is trickery –

because true love sets us free

and so we surrender to

the soul-sucking zombie apocalypse of our addictions,

our chosen favored forms of slavery

as the children of chattel always do

not knowing our vast worth

our royal bloodline

our supreme destiny

we clothe ourselves in useless, flimsy armor

our only known defense.

we use fools gold

cheap drug store variety,

Madison avenue, false-advertisement protection,

these rabbits feet of proclaimed luck,

these traps of anger, arrogance and pride,

against the barbarian onslaught

of what we have been brainwashed to accept

as important

the carnivorous eating of our flesh

by the demands of our own complex making

focused only on our foolish collecting of silly objects,

overrated treasures and pleasures

as we ignore our need for love

choosing instead to battle

the cannibals salivating at every corner

waiting for us to stumble and weaken

so they can take our place at the top of the illusive list

of whatever sort

we have entered into

as our arena of competition

eventually they will toast to their victories over us

with our own fresh, falling blood

pouring from the golden goblets we ourselves had taken from another

we accept it as normal

as we attend to the business of forgetting

who we are

pretending to be full

as we starve to death

in order to get just a little bit more than those waiting

for what will never satisfy any of us

lusting for salt

even as we faint from dehydration
we live, lonely, in empty mansions

forgetting all that makes a house glow

is the home light burning inside of our other to warm our bones

in order to impress those who will never truly know us, love us, or want our best to be honored

in order to arrive at the end of our hourglass

dragging what we will not be able take with us…
we trade our chance to be truly remarkable

to create singular intimacy

we see our chance to find gardens of happiness,

to build something as mind boggling as the seven wonders,

and we choose to ignore it

as we continue on.

too busy, too consumed,

to stop for a moment,

just one moment,

to take off our shoes,

fall down and worship…

to allow the lover into our heart –

as though love isn’t important enough for the likes of us

why do we go about wasting our opportunity here?

how can we awaken to the highest and best within ourselves?

how can we choose to lay our hearts bare in vulnerability?

how can we empty the deepest motes of fear and isolation?

why do we trade love for ash?

why would we ever do such a thing?

why?

Let us return again to where we began…

the joyous place of our belonging

to the passion and wild danger inside our freedom loving hearts

children on Christmas morning

full of sheer wonder and excitement

at the beauty of who we are

passionately in love with our created uniqueness

the fullest colors of our self unleashed

living worship eternally under vast blue skies

shining from our highest place,

with the extreme audacity,

the sheer wonder and glory

of our calling as love

pure love

I in you

You in I

as we

the many

become

the one

💞

Amy Lloyd (AL)

Many of us seek that which we will flee if we find it. I have seen this time and again, both in myself and in others. We seek, we search, and then we find a calling or a relationship that is a perfect reflection of our yearning and we turn away and go back to seeking, almost as though the light of our true-path was too bright for us, too vulnerable for us, too real for us. This is a pattern that we have to recognize and heal or else we will never stop looking for what is already there. True-path is not always around the next corner. Sometimes it’s right under our feet…

🛤

Jeff Brown

Love is the only sane and satisfactory answer to the problem of human existence.

~Erich Fromm

Posted in action, anger, attitude, awareness, beauty, Becoming Yourself, Change, Choice, compassion, confidence, connection, courage, Faith, find art at pinterest, Freedom, Glory, inspiration, Letting Go, Life, Love, Passion, Relationships, risk, soul and spirit, strength, transformation, Trust, truth, Vulnerability, www.pinterest.com | Leave a comment

17 Aug 2016

what if?

Let’s remake the world with words.

Not frivolously, nor

To hide from what we fear,

But with a purpose.

Let’s,

As Wordsworth said, remove

“The dust of custom” so things

Shine again, each object arrayed

In its robe of original light.

And then we’ll see the world

As if for the first time.

As once we gazed at the beloved

Who was gazing at us.

🌎

Untitled [“Let’s remake the world with words”] by Gregory Orr

what if you tried something new?

what if you just threw away the rule book and trusted your gut?

what if you allowed someone in to help you, even for a minute?

what if you stopped defending your territory and absorbed some love?

what if you decided to let unexpeted things be the right timing?

what if you created a world where everybody belonged?

what if it’s really just about finding beauty and allowing beauty to find us?

what if you saw that no one is more valuable than another?

what if you knew, for sure, you are royal, and so am I?

what if you treated everyone you encounter with that assumption?

what if, every single time you wanted to, you made the phone call?

what if, every time you didn’t want to, you didn’t?

what if you began doing all the things you are dreaming of today?

what if these things simple things are all that truly matters?

what if the future of the world hangs on this iridescent string wrapped loosely around your wrist?

what if you leave for the next great adventure tomorrow, on this earth, or beyond?

what if you ask yourself these things every morning,

out in that field beyond right and wrong?
🌳

Amy Lloyd (AL)

Posted in attitude, awareness, beauty, Becoming Yourself, Beginning, beloved, commitment, connection, courage, determination, Faith, find art at pinterest, friendship, healing, inspiration, Letting Go, Life, Love, Miracles, moment, Reflection, Relationships, soul and spirit, Trust, truth, Vulnerability, www.pinterest.com | Leave a comment

12 Aug 2016

hanging in this green moment 💚

From Jen Lemen 💚 sign up for Soul Snacks

💚💚💚💚💚💚😊😊💚💚💚

There was a sentence halfway written.

There was a thumbprint ridged in ink.

There was a crease in sheaved paper.

There was a ring left from the drink.

There was a chair turned, facing outwards.

There was a door hung from its hinge.

There was a drop that wasn’t water.

There was a dog that knew to cringe.

There was tall grass, dazed and listing.

There was dirt sporing the air.

There was a quiet cleft by birdsong.

There was ragged breathing, barely.

There’d been a plan, the traces told it.

There was a shovel in the back.

There were gloves and tape and sibilant teeth.

There were constraints that held them fast.

There was no way they would believe her.

There was no cold hand that made fists.

There’d be floodlit eyes for every move

And no coming back from this.
Sing, stolid choir of objects, eyeless and aghast,

of a world that came to stay.

Add to your claythroat concord what lies in a hole

that took all day.

If an account remains ungiven,

if the seams close sheer and smooth,

if God’s own mind forgets, this time,

a scene will bear the truth.

🌾

-Matthew Caldwell
https://claudiusspeaks.com/2016/07/28/scene-matthew-caldwell/

Suddenly I saw the cold and rook-delighting heaven

That seemed as though ice burned and was but the more ice,

And thereupon imagination and heart were driven

So wild that every casual thought of that and this

Vanished, and left but memories, that should be out of season

With the hot blood of youth, of love crossed long ago;

And I took all the blame out of all sense and reason,

Until I cried and trembled and rocked to and fro,

Riddled with light. Ah!

when the ghost begins to quicken,

Confusion of the death-bed over, is it sent

Out naked on the roads, as the books say, and stricken

By the injustice of the skies for punishment?

⚡️

The Cold Heaven by W. B. Yeats

Floating here

some three thousand miles off Portugal

I hang in your green,

breath held, limbs still,

ears just under water,

feet pointing down into mystery.

The sea in my veins

is so close to you,

blood of the planet I throb in.

In your silence I feel the crashing

of waves in my heartbeat,

the wind in and out

when I come up to breathe.

It may look just barely

but I feel so alive.

You have no ill will

yet I know if I breathe wrong

you will take me.

This far north your hands are cold,

your lips are cold.

Still I float in your womb

and you say

“I will hold you.”

Sitting in my umbilical prayers I hear you.

Mountains and deserts say this, too.

And beside a little white church

on a North Dakota prairie

a plot of ground,

surrounded by family names,

says as well,

“I will hold you.”

I hear you.

I hang here in this green moment.

__________________

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net

My heart is green

with the fuzz of springtime growth

borning life again

from the rich, bloody soil

it throbs anew
My mind is blue

as the sky in sunshine

then

like the night full of stars and glittering tears

it diamond sparkles
My life is orange

as flames in a forest

fire

breathing the wind

it grows wild
My love is red

there is no hiding it

passion

real as anything

it woos pilgrims
My touch is gold

hands, lips on wounds

aching

for velvet skin, shared breath

it heals all
My soul is pearl

creamy and warm

welcome

to all who come

it opens hearts
My word is platinum

I seek only truth

wisdom

life with integrity

it unlocks doors
My work is emerald

deep as the world

brilliant

full of riches

it creates wealth
My legacy is silver

of the finest made

pure

all about me

all about You

💚

Amy Lloyd (AL)

Posted in attitude, awareness, balance, beauty, Becoming Yourself, beloved, Blessing, color, courage, find art at pinterest, Growth, healing, Letting Go, Life, Love, Passion, Relationships, soul and spirit, Trust, truth, Vulnerability, www.pinterest.com | Leave a comment

07 Aug 2016

wicked surprises of the call

God goes out for whiskey Friday night,

Staggers back Monday morning

Empty-handed, no explanation.
After three nights of not sleeping,

Three nights of listening for

His footsteps, His mules sliding
Deftly under my bed, I stand

At the stove, giving him my back,

Wearing the same tight, tacky dress, same slip,
Same seamed stockings I’d put on before He left.

He leans on the kitchen table, waiting

For me to make him His coffee.
I watch the water boil,

Refuse to turn around,

Wonder how to leave Him.
Woman, He slurs, when have I ever done

What you wanted me to do?

❓❓❓❓

Reason by Robin Coste Lewis

Get off my back, God.

Take your claws out of my shoulder.

I’d like to throw you off

like I would brush off some particularly repellent insect!

Sometimes I get the feeling that if I could turn round

quick enough

I would see you

grinning at me,

full of glee, plotting, scheming, devious, challenging

The hell with all this stuff about fire and storm

and still, quiet waters.

I’ve got your number.

I’ve unmasked you.

I’d like to throw you off

like I would brush off some

particularly repellent insect.

You’re a daemon!

Unfortunately, you seem to have this great attachment

to me.

Actually, being honest, I know in my heart

I’d miss you if you weren’t there,

leering at me, reminding me of death and dread and destiny,

winding me up and puncturing

my pretensions.

I know, with a sinking feeling in my gut

that all the best of me

– the fire and storm,

and even, now and then, still waters,

are born out of the death-defying struggle

that we wage,

my dearest daemon.

💪🏻

Wresting With God by Kathy Galloway

I didn’t ask for this,

did I?

in fact, I believe I tried to block it,

avoid it at all costs.

But here I am feeling

outta sorts,

facing my bittersweet days.

Wondering where the hell

this is gonna take me?

What is my purpose here?

here,

where I lived my experiment for 5 years?

here,

what was taken

now returns,

and I am not sure what to do with it…

light it up

burn it down?

all I know is this is the place

I have been called to

at this moment

for only God knows what,

and He’s not talking,

hasn’t shown his face in weeks.

I must rely on this silly sliver of a promise,

that it is meant for my good

– somehow,

someway.

Any-hoo,

Trust is a ruthless business,

an extreme proposition to live.

I am not leaning to my own understanding,

or natural desires,

even a bitty-bit,

or I definitely wouldn’t be right here

– right now

or anytime in the future.

Yet here I am,

standing on this holiest of my profane grounds,

way out in the back forty

of thecomfort zone,

knowing beyond knowing,

I’m in the only place

I’m supposed to be

right now.

This is where the magic happens.

🌎

Amy Lloyd (AL)

God wants to encounter you with His love, so you can become a light everywhere you go, your life will shout to the world, ‘I’ve seen Him, I’ve felt Him. I’ve heard His voice. He is alive. He is here with us. In us. For us.’

Posted in action, Adventure, Alone, attitude, awareness, be, beauty, Becoming Yourself, beloved, Change, confidence, connection, courage, Death, determination, Faith, find art at pinterest, Glory, Gospel, grace, Impossible, inspiration, intimacy, Letting Go, Love, Miracles, mystery, Reflection, soul and spirit, strength, transformation, Trust, truth, Vulnerability, www.pinterest.com | Leave a comment

02 Aug 2016

o love

The Lover said to the Beloved,

“I am in love with You.”

The Beloved replied with laughter

and twinkling eyes,

“You have no choice!”

Who comprehends this conversation?

I love because I have free will.

But when I surrender completely,

the will is annihilated in love,

and this is perfect freedom.

I know this because I became

a fool.

🎉

Alfred K. LaMotte

Posted in attitude, awareness, be, beauty, Becoming Yourself, beloved, commitment, find art at pinterest, Freedom, intimacy, Joy, Letting Go, Life, Love, mystery, Passion, Patience, Relationships, soul and spirit, transformation, Trust, truth, Vulnerability, www.pinterest.com | Leave a comment

27 Jul 2016

quest for that shade of blue

When the light lessens,

Causing colors to lose their courage,

And your eyes fix on the empty distance

That can open on either side

Of the surest line

To make all that is

Familiar and near

Seem suddenly foreign,
When the music of talk

Breaks apart into noise

And you hear your heart louden

While the voices around you

Slow down to leaden echoes

Turning the silence Into something stony and cold,
When the old ghosts come back

To feed on everywhere you felt sure,

Do not strengthen their hunger

By choosing to fear;

Rather, decide to call on your heart

That it may grow clear and free

To welcome home your emptiness

That it may cleanse you

Like the clearest air

You could ever breathe.
Allow your loneliness time

To dissolve the shell of dross

That had closed around you;

Choose in this severe silence

To hear the one true voice

Your rushed life fears;

Cradle yourself like a child

Learning to trust what emerges,

So that gradually

You may come to know
That deep in that black hole

You will find the blue flower

That holds the mystical light

Which will illuminate in you

The glimmer of springtime.

💙

A Blessing for Loneliness by John O’Donohue

Alone and lost

at the edge

of an ocean

of memories,
a heart of the deepest blue

beats

to the slow monotony

of a swaying metronome;
found in the crashing waves

of a dark desolate shore.

The weeping wind,

with its hidden whispers,

murmurs her name;
as nights they walked

hand in hand
flashback into view.
Haunting the torn fabric of his soul.

💔

Shipwrecked heart by AllPoetry member, Halosonthemoon

read the rest here: http://ow.ly/eO4E302oGFH

when I ride the nights ragged hours

when my loneliness rages with ruthless, restless, too warm turning

when heaven is that smudge of light

seen beside the farthest star

when sleep is torn from my hungry grasp

and I am left without an inch of satisfaction

from the feathers beneath my head

when I open my eyes to the same shade of black

I see with them closed

then I feel the disappearance of my desire to conform

my self is borderless at 3 am

my pretensions dissolve into this dark

I surrender to my grief

as well as to my hope

I swim to the other end of the bed

to cooler pastures

I visit the sheep

living among the stuff

down there

I listen as they recited the 23rd Psalm

to reassure my nervous entering

in that strange world

I hear all the sounds from this new dimension

my mind takes on the shape of new perspective

alert to this unusual adventure

I cry a little

laugh a little

think about the glory of love

the world turns on its axis

I breath free

I fly home

💞

I am a sheep

and I like it

because the grass

I lie down in

feels good and the still

waters are restful and right

there if I’m thirsty

and though some valleys

are very chilly there is a long

rod that prods me so I

direct my hooves

the right way

though today

I’m trying hard

to sit at a table

because it’s expected

required really

and my enemies—

it turns out I have enemies—

are watching me eat and

spill my drink

but I don’t worry because

all my enemies do

is watch and I know

I’m safe if I will

just do my best

as I sit on this chair

that wobbles a bit

in the grass

on the side of a hill.

🐏

Here In The Psalm by Sally Fisher

Your great mistake is to act the drama

as if you were alone. As if life

were a progressive and cunning crime

with no witness to the tiny hidden

transgressions. To feel abandoned is to deny

the intimacy of your surroundings. Surely,

even you, at times, have felt the grand array;

the swelling presence, and the chorus, crowding

out your solo voice You must note

the way the soap dish enables you,

or the window latch grants you freedom.

Alertness is the hidden discipline of familiarity.

The stairs are your mentor of things

to come, the doors have always been there

to frighten you and invite you,

and the tiny speaker in the phone

is your dream-ladder to divinity.
Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into

the conversation. The kettle is singing

even as it pours you a drink, the cooking pots

have left their arrogant aloofness and

seen the good in you at last. All the birds

and creatures of the world are unutterably

themselves. Everything is waiting for you.

🌎

Everything is Waiting for You by David Whyte

from Everything is Waiting for You

photo sources found at pinterest.com

Posted in Adventure, Alone, attitude, awareness, beauty, Becoming Yourself, Beginning, beloved, Change, Choice, connection, courage, dark, Encouragement, Faith, find art at pinterest, grace, Gratitude, healing, laugh, Letting Go, Life, Lonely, Love, Relationships, soul and spirit, Trust, Vulnerability, www.pinterest.com | Leave a comment

27 Jul 2016

when I touch your face I touch the face of God

our identity actually depends on the attention we give to things outside of ourselves

(David Whyte via On Being)

It is so difficult to see this face *

because the countless others

we’ve seen before

cloud the view,

along with how we expect it to look

and how it might be improved.
Even the faces of the ones we love deeply

hide like buried treasure

behind histories of expression.
In order to see

what is right in front of our eyes,

we first have to recognize

we have gradually

become blind,

and then begin

the slow work of forgetting.

* Substitute with any noun: flower, beach, stone, bird, soap bubble, house, grandmother, beef stew, homeless person, celebrity, potato, dollar bill, construction worker, politician, drug addict, child, teacher, report card, mail order catalogue, boss, swimming pool, dog, towel, onion, computer, neighbor, planet, pine cone, cigarette, airplane, spam subject, fork, mountain, etc.

🍴

Recognition by Daron Larson

You are the sum total of everything you’ve ever seen, heard, eaten, smelled, been told, forgot — it’s all there. Everything influences each of us, and because of that I try to make sure that my experiences are positive.

☺️

– Maya Angelou

Me myself

Trippers and askers surround me, People I meet, the effect upon me of my early life or the ward and city I live in, or the nation.

The latest dates, discoveries, inventions, societies, authors old and new…

These come to me days and nights and go from me again. But they are not the Me myself.

– Walt Whitman from Song of Myself

I long to see your face

to touch the hills of your nose

your cheeks

the valleys where your eyes live

your forehead, I don’t know well enough

the crease of your chin

under your lips

your face is the place

where your soul

meets the world,

met mine

your breath

allows us to mingle

melting into each other’s dna

I miss your conversation

I miss our laughter

I miss your company

I miss your hands

mostly I miss seeing your face

with these eyes of mine

😍

I think your whole life shows in your face and we should be proud of that.

– Lauren Bacall

look at your hands

your beautiful useful hands

you’re not an ape

you’re not a parrot

you’re not a slow loris

or a smart missile

you’re human
not british

not american

not israeli

not palestinian

you’re human
not catholic

not protestant

not muslim

not hindu

you’re human
we all start human

we end up human

human first

human last

we’re human

or we’re nothing
nothing but bombs

and poison gas

nothing but guns

and torturers

nothing but slaves

of Greed and War

if we’re not human
look at your body

with its amazing systems

of nerve-wires and blood canals

think about your mind

which can think about itself

and the whole universe

look at your face

which can freeze into horror

or melt into love

look at all that life

all that beauty

you’re human

they are human

we are human

let’s try to be human
dance!

💃🏻

Human Beings by Adrian Mitchell

Posted in art, attitude, awareness, beauty, beloved, Choice, connection, find art at pinterest, friendship, Grieving, Letting Go, Life, Love, Miracles, mystery, Passion, People, Relationships, soul and spirit, Vulnerability, www.pinterest.com | Leave a comment

23 Jul 2016

what not to say…just bring french chocolates

“Only he who cries… is permitted to sing…” is what Bonhoeffer said.

Only those authentic enough to lament, are authentic enough to love.
When everything is stripped away and you have nothing left and in all your bare vulnerability, there is communion with God.

– Ann Voskamp

I am bare naked

Down to my bones

Even my comfortable skin is gone

I shiver as the cold blows through me

I have cried many tears

my song has been well watered

it blooms within me

true voice does not come without cost

Yet it comes

I choose

I let go

I choose

I lament

I chose

I grieve

I choose

I love

I choose

I commune

I choose

I learn

I choose

always choosing

new choosing in every moment

to continue to make the choices

which will bring the song

that fills the whole world

with hope, light and love

Thanks be

to the the friends who stay with me

in silence we weep

in joy we laugh

always and always

we sing

🎼

love breaks your heart for the sake of your heart…

If you have your health, you have everything

is something that’s said to cheer you up

when you come home early and find your lover

arched over a stranger in a scarlet thong.

Or it could be you lose your job at Happy Nails

because you can’t stop smudging the stars

on those ten teeny American flags.

I don’t begrudge you your extravagant vitality.

May it blossom like a cherry tree. May the petals

of your cardiovascular excellence

and the accordion polka of your lungs

sweeten the mornings of your loneliness.

But for the ill, for you with nerves that fire

like a rusted-out burner on an old barbecue,

with bones brittle as spun sugar,

with a migraine hammering like a blacksmith

in the flaming forge of your skull,

may you be spared from friends who say,

God doesn’t give you more than you can handle

and ask what gifts being sick has brought you.

May they just keep their mouths shut

and give you French chocolates and daffodils

and maybe a small, original Matisse,

say, Open Window, Collioure, so you can look out

at the boats floating on the dappled pink water.

🏝

French Chocolates by Ellen Bass

The Beloved says:

Be at peace;

I am the strongest thing in you.

Over your dark, formless waters I brood;

in your void I speak my Word.

You are my river and I am your flowing;

you are my water and I am your sea.

I am the spark from nerve to nerve;

the drumming of your heart.

I am your blood’s dark alchemy

creating life, this moment, life.

In the night I am your nest;

in the storm, your steadfast earth.

In the raging waters I am your breath;

in your death I am your life.

I am the First thing in you,

and I will be in you

when the rest of you is gone.

When your bones are shadows

and your sinews wind

a hundred years from now

I will still be in your place,

rejoicing.

Nothing is deeper than my desire for you;

nor stronger than your belonging in me.

I am your Realm, and your power, and your glory.

Be at peace.
__________________

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net

4 year anniversary of living faith following the cloud. Allowing God to direct every step I have taken…been an amazing, wonderful, difficult, miracle-strewn time. So grateful for every miracle minute.