January 29, 2011

Today was a day of colors.

A yellow morning reading.

In diluted winter sun.

Gathering for lunch.

Golden chicken. Deep red cherry tomatoes. Shiny black olives.

An afternoon walk.

Of short green wheat.

In fields usually brown.

With grey sky hanging over the sea.

Telling of rain to come. Maybe.

A pink ribbon around the cat’s neck.

Purple flowers blooming on the rosemary.

A warm orange lamp. Lit as dusk fell.

The bright blue cover of a book just opened.

While curled in a multi-colored blanket.


Crying and laughing

January 26, 2011

Standing in a graveyard today.

Full of paradox.

Burying a life ended.

Amid growing trees and children all around.

Mourning a life passed.

While honoring a life well lived.

Crying tears that stop you breathing.

Mixed with laughter.

For his humor, love, and wisdom.

A private man of few words.

Whose written words hold power.

To move the soul.

A man who lived with the deepest loss.

And the deepest gratitude. For all he had.

When those we love leave us.

We remember the past.

We mourn in the present.

And. Perhaps. If we’re lucky.

We can. With time.

Fold in the love and learning.

For the future.

And again from John Donahue. For who else says it so well.

Let us not look for you only in memory,
Where we would grow lonely without you.
You would want us to find you in presence,
Beside us when beauty
When kindness glows
And music echoes eternal tones

Breaking heart

January 24, 2011

Heard some bad news today.

Made me think.

That medicine can mend and treat.

But knows nothing of fixing a heart.

That grieves.

Or an emptiness.

That’s completely hollow.

Made me know.

As if I didn’t already.

That it’s perfectly possible.

To die of a broken heart.

Flowing grateful

January 22, 2011

Today I am grateful.

For my family sitting round the breakfast table.

And the winter sun that came to warm us.

For the cat who came home after two days missing.

And the mint and thyme just planted by my door. 

For new friends who visited this weekend.

And the hugs and words they poured.

Like warming tea.

And mostly I’m grateful.

That I remembered to take. Just a minute.

To be grateful.

Planting trees

January 20, 2011

Today is the New Year for trees.

A day to remind us.

We’re a part of nature. Not apart.

And belong to an earth.

That does not belong to us.

We can plant trees and gardens

And not call them ours.

Grow cities and countries

Without fencing them in.

So that others can’t cross.

We’ve had 5771 New Years so far.

Could be we’ll need a few more.

Being better

January 17, 2011

There are people in this world who save leopards.

Bring hope to others. And bikes.

Amazing people.

With a thread that binds them.

Passion for that larger than themselves.

Passion to be the change they want to see.

Maybe we can learn.

To be passionate quietly.

About smiling at others.

Saying a kind word each day.

Making time for a friend.

Looking at the homeless guy.

When handing over money.

Not much. Those little shifts.

But even a small step is still a step.

Slowing for winter

January 15, 2011

I woke up this morning. In a cold house.

Thinking of things of winter.

While I searched for slippers. Under the bed.

Everything slows in this season.

Except for us.

We continue to rush. Out of step.

With the circular sun journey.

I contemplate stopping.

Taking a hint from the cyclamens biding their time.

Sending careful shoots but not yet flowers.

Do less. Expect less. Be more.

Give ourselves time to breathe and renew.

And drink chai. With John O’Donahue’s words.

Tucked under our arm.

You have traveled too fast over false ground;
Now your soul has come to take you back.

Take refuge in your senses, open up
To all the small miracles you rushed through.

Become inclined to watch the way of rain
When it falls slow and free.

Not saving but drowning

January 13, 2011

It’s flooding all over the world.

And where it’s not there’s no water to drink.

La Nina. El Nino. Names we make up.

For natural forces we can’t leave alone.

We build dams. Construct levees. Haul sandbags.

Turn off lights. Close taps. Reuse bags.

If we have them.

And all a drop in the ocean that isn’t.

For in spite of Kyoto it’s flooding.

A cynic might say. There’s profit to be made.

In building an ark.

Using time

January 9, 2011

Today I thought.

That if time were mine alone.

I’d make a list.

Of places to visit. And paths to tread.

Old friends to catch up with. New friends to make.

Vegetables to plant. Gardens to tend. Herbs to cook.

And piles of books. And beyond them more piles.

Time to be and to see. Time to breathe.

Gonna keep that list.

Until I remember that my time was always mine.

And use it wisely.

Celebrating a birthday

January 8, 2011

Today was the birthday.

Of the community I live in.

With mixed feelings.

As Bilbo. Liking half half as well as I should.

And less than half half as well as they deserve.

But it’s home.

And its paths and orchards wrap round me.

I wish those within it more kindness. And patience.  Less judgment.

For not all those who dwell here wish the other well.

But still all are bound by threads and connections.

 Of this place.

And come together to sing.