Friday, January 19, 2007

Public Garden (a song)

Everything I thought as I first walked among these trees,
Everything I wondered as I watched the falling leaves,
And over there on that blue bridge my heart skipped at the view,
as you walked here to meet me and I saw that it was you.

A garden of my future
a garden of right now
that's the way I saw this place
but it looks different now
I walk alone as night falls all around me
but I'll never ever say that I was sorry
no, no, no.

Every step we took with your arm over my shoulder,
Everytime we kissed as this brand new love grew older,
And over there where we embraced after missing us so much,
when we breathed with two full hearts and I felt your sweet touch.

A garden of my future
a garden of right now
that's the way I saw this place
but it looks different now
I walk alone as dusk falls all around me
but I'll never ever say that I was sorry
no, no, no.

Monday, January 15, 2007

A Prayer Painted by God

I thirst for that which feeds my senses and my heart. When I imagine Odonata, I breathe a sigh at the homecoming. It's beautiful, with swooping roof lines and curving doorways, fascinating textures, a feast of colors, rich fragrances and smiling sounds. . .

I feel Odonata as a sanctuary, a spiritual community where one is blessed with the opportunity to practice giving and receiving love and care, every day. It will be a space created for the intentional nurturing and careful tending of the human spirit--where joys are doubled and sorrows are halved by the company we'll share.

Our surreoundings have a great effect upon us, upon our mental and emotional health, physical health, and spiritual health . . .this community will sweetly support and sustain every facet of the jewels we each are, and in doing so, will lift each of us upwards toward Light. It's important that we not underestimate the power of our physical surroundings upon us. Odonata will be the home of sacred spaces and blessed people, accompanying one another on our journeys in this precious life.

And Odonata will be a sweep of God's brush across the landscape, a prayer painted by God.

Blood-Borne Wondering

A woman's work in relationship is to wonder. A man's work is to walk on, and woman may accompany, or she may not. . .but stop for her he surely won't. She can wonder where they are going together, or wonder if she wants to go (though most women don't adequately consider her man's purpose and journey before signing on.)

The wondering lies deep within our blood, some flotsam of times past when we couldn't fend for ourselves, or could, but needed a seed to be planted in order to survive, literally survive . . .perhaps the purpose of the wondering is lost, and it would better serve now to Still and Be, rather than to be tormented by the blood-borne Wondering. . .but it's still there, and better to face it than to not. There is some relief in the Facing.

Some days the Being feels so difficult, and the Wondering feels so painful. With skill, we can reverse blood, and live in something far more indelible than instinct. We can live in Now and rest in The connection. Sweet relief, sweeter than most any feeling in this life, and a sweetness surpassing even the most intimate, soul-scorching kiss, weelll, maybe.

If a woman's wondering is an illness, then Presence is the only innoculation. It's most certainly a dis-ease, this Wondering. And Ease is what comes to us when we rest long enough for it to find us.

Beyond the Struggle

With swift clarity I've realized the journey is over. All seeking leads to the same X on this ancient treasure map . . .so that the seeking is now merely auditioning different paths to the One--which is who I am and who I've always been. In an instant, I can feel God so intimately that the love overwhelms me and I'm taken into the arms of the only true Security---Security known as Love----which runs forever in the violet evening sky.

The only thing to seek is Presence. To still and allow swirling thoughts to settle like little flecks of dust aroused before a shaft of sunlight through a window . . .particles of dust---invisible thoughts . . .invisible only until the Light of one's Presence reaches them.

So perhaps this Seeking is nothing more than finding different ways, and the best way for each of us, to open the curtain on this light-filled day, so we can see the dust long enough to know the real trick is to still and settle, and feel the Sun.

Did I actually title this piece, "Beyond the Struggle?" That's funny because I'm not beyond the struggle. Perhaps more appropriate words would have been "I'm Beyond Trying to Feel Spirit's Presence Within Me and Now I Can Feel the Sun Anytime I Want!" I've finally accessed enough Peace often enough to have built a solid, abiding faith. In my own way, I know. I Know. So in that sense, the seeking, the struggle, has ceased, and I am always, always home wherever I travel.

Sunday, January 14, 2007

When Does the Heart Know? (a song)

When does the heart know,
the truth of white and clear?
When does the heart know
in the span of one short year?

When does the heart love,
when can it fly free?
When does the heart love,
or feel blind and can't see?

When does the heart cry,
when the levy fails to hold?
When does it meet winter sky
when does it feel so cold?

When does the heart ask,
as though a small child?
when does the heart ask
with peace which only smiled?

How does the heart heal
as day spins into day?
How does the heart heal
makes its courageous way?

I thought the heart knew,
but time would tell true,
some things we can't know,
and some hearts must go.