Although my poetry has grown in depth and scope through the years, this one remains a favorite.
It was one of my first. I remember it coming to me while I was on a walk in NC.
A memory is an enchantment,
a magical discovery in the lush forest of our thoughts,
a gift we open accidentally . . .
a rush to the past for a moment,
our treasure hides itself
until we come upon it again.
The Storm began a new kind of writing for me. As I listened, nature began to speak.
Just last night a storm raged outside my door . . .
Winds whipped raindrops into the window panes, and a fury of nature poured.
My thoughts went to the flowers and trees, my prayers went to all the birds
Making their homes in branches of those trees, how could they survive the disharmony I heard?
I imagined the branches bending, I felt the pellets of rain,
I saw a mother bird shielding her young, and my heart was full of pain.
It eventually passed, my concern ceased,
My thoughts quieted down, and I fell asleep.
Early next morning, I jumped from my bed
To gaze from my window, see what nature said.
The morning was hazy, but the birds talked to me,
And I felt a new freshness in all I did see.
The trees were quenched with drops of rain,
The fountain was full, no signs of pain.
The love of God poured forth last night in ways I cannot know
To do its perfect work, perhaps, in all of life below.
Is not the rain a good thing? Is not a trial the same?
Can we not learn and grow, when we experience our pain?
I cannot judge its coming, the Divine its own direction tells.
I must see that this, too, shall pass, choose peace, and know all is well.
So, I became even more quiet.
I am so grateful for this silence . . .
I am not afraid of the stillness as perhaps I once was,
I have grown to need its companionship . . .
To walk with it,
Rest with it,
Listen to it speak to me.
God is in that silence of mine,
It is God that is my partner.
I have found the indwelling Christ.
The Source of All,
Inside of me . . .
How can I not be grateful
Each moment that I live,
Each moment that I breathe?
Whatever befalls me on my journey in this place,
I know that my Creator walks with me . . .
He speaks in my silence,
And I am grateful.
I love this one . . .
Journey of Light
I am inside of a barn . . .
There is a crack in the battered board
Where a beam of light is streaming,
A small hole of light,
But still it illuminates.
Outside shines the sun
Seeking to brighten the space inside
With a tiny stream of light.
Now I must be here,
Trying to see what I am searching for,
And if I stand a certain way,
Change my perspective,
Use the little light inside this space,
I can find what I am looking for.
The light I see inside this barn
Will grow in time,
For the sun outside will
Overtake these fading walls.
They will crumble and fall
To reveal an open space,
A place once hidden
By man's desiring to create a space
To shelter some earthly illusions
And hide them from the light,
But the light in its truth
Always shines in the darkness,
And it always wins.
Am I this light
Living in the darkened space
I've created inside of my barn,
The eternal light of God
Always doing its perfect work,
Wearing away this structure
That I've made
To house my beam of light?
Will it continue to
Illuminate my shadows,
And expose me,
Revealing who I really am?
Is not the light of The All
Stronger than that which it embraces?
Our wallls are only temporary,
They don't really exist,
Only the thought of them . . .
The light of truth will
Dissolve those facades,
And humanity can then see
We are all part of God.
A prayer . . .
I share this space with you,
yet I am in my own,
and you in yours,
each of us masters of our worlds,
each an equal part of the Divine.
May our individual offerings
to the world we've both created together
be from our highest and our best
so that still more light may shine.
Growing . . .
Each and every creation existing on,
and surrounding this earth,
be it great or small,
serves a purpose in the design of life,
as does every stitch in a tapestry,
every brushstroke in a painting . . .
Why, then, is it so hard to accept that
every thought we have,
every choice we make,
every feeling we sense,
every happening that occurs,
every relationship we share,
every person we meet,
each is necessary to the design of our lives,
when we look to the sky with its sun,
and its moon,
and its planets,
and its billions,
and billions of stars
can we not see
something still greater exists . . .
The part which is the Whole,
the One which is
the Sum of all its parts . . .
the One from which
all its parts have come
sees the value
of each of its parts,
no judgment . . .
How can we, then,
for we are all of our parts,
as we, also, are a part of
the Whole which does not judge?
My spirit lives in a never-ending,
perpetual design of creation!
All is well, indeed,
for I AM a part
of the Great I AM,
and peace can be found
in that knowing . . .
Many more to be shared . . .