The word I seek has stolen away.
A sheep has left the flock.
The rest remain, bleating,
but none are what I seek.
Frustration gives way to ….
Oh no, not you too!
Come back, don’t desert me
Anger, upset, no annoyance,
That’s it! Welcome back!
Dear lost sheep.
On a hillside
blackened
by coal waste
rain falls
sun shines
a seed falls
and dies.
Life is
a struggle
life is
persistent
life does not
easily
succumb.
On a hillside
blackened
by coal waste
rain falls
sun shines
a seed falls
and grows.
In the tumult of the storm,
there is a silence.
In the crash of the waves on the shore,
there is a pause.
In the torment of the mind,
between the thoughts,
there is a gap,
a divine stillness that speaks to those who can listen.
Being in that stillness,
even for a second,
can feel impossible,
so easily is it overwhelmed
by the torments of the mind,
or drowned in the clutter and pace of life.
Is there any wonder so few can find it,
even fewer hold to it?
Strive.
Persevere.
Practice.
Be the stillness and
Know the Divine that is You.
.
It is said that the thought
Precedes the action.
Unless the thought is Anger
Words spoken cannot be withdrawn
Nor forgotten only forgiven.
Yet forgiveness is a healing balm
That time alone can apply.
Look at a cloud-flecked sky,
and see a unique creation,
a pattern of nature,
never, never,
to be repeated or seen again.
When you look in a mirror,
what do you see,
but a unique creation,
a product of nature, never
never to be repeated again.
Fourteen billion years
went into forming you,
mighty stars living and dying,
for no other purpose
but to produce the stardust
from which you are made.
Child of the Universe,
ever changing, ever unfolding,
you are today
not what you were yesterday.
Live, love, and be,
for you are unique,
and so special.
Foolishly,
I thought the wound
Had healed
Scar tissue now
Where once, raw flesh,
Bled.
Foolishly,
I thought the memory,
Lost, buried,
An autumnal leaf,
All power decayed,
Was gone.
How can it be, that
A line of poetry,
A word even,
Can revive the pain,
Twist again the
Long forgotten knife,
That once,
Plunged so deep?
And still does.
A houseplant and I
Share the same space,
The only two living
Beings in the room
And I wonder,
Does it know
Who provides it
With water
And without whom
It would die?
Then I reflect
Do I?
In meditation
You are advised to
Sit and watch the clouds
Pass across the sky
That is your mind
So who is it that hurls
Unwanted thoughts and
Half forgotten memories
To obscure
The blue sky of my mind?
I sit and watch
The clouds roll by
And cannot help but wonder
If not me,
Who then?
There is a beauty in silence,
A sacred balm that heals,
Calming the mind,
Soothing away,
The cares of the day.
Silence offers a pause
In the noise and bustle
Of the world, the opportunity
To put down your burden,
And simply be – at peace.
Thoughts arise
Jostling one another
Like beads on a necklace
But
If you can find the space
Between the thoughts
And see the string that
Holds the beads together
You have found who you are.
Reflections on life in Poetry and Prose. 