I remember July mornings
Stepping among pools of shade
And leafy bird song
To find your purple door
A portal
Your kitchen garden
A haven to deer
And other shades of beauty
My words can’t express.
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New Moon
Night is waiting
Unknowing is openness
Potential undiscovered
Masked goodness
Still I tremble
Strain to see
What remains hidden in shadow
Strain to touch
What is beyond grasping
The sun is my playmate
Bids me to explore the world
The moon is a mirror
Beckoning me inward
To explore unmapped worlds
To claim the light of my soul
The Sea and Me
The sea moving between shores makes sense.
The sea , which transforms itself from a quiet glass of rippling reflections
into a rocketing mountain of foam
And fury, wild with watering eyes.
And I have been taught from every side
Life is a sea carrying me between two shores.
(Humans seem to like parentheses)
Beginnings and endings are tidy,
Tell us Where we have been and where we’re headed.
But just maybe, life has no parentheses.
Maybe Life is one infinite line with a few points that leap and dance.
Maybe an infinite circle, a place of silent
Knowing and bliss and love.
And we all–squid and algae, salmon, starfish and rubber boots–
Flail about frantically, suspended in darkness.
As we frolic and fight and spawn
like fish in the sea,
The sea of silent knowing, bliss and love.
Because we are the ever-shifting sea foam
Floating in the vast blue eternity of God.
Everything Has a Voice
Everything has a voice
Even little things
A drop of rain has stories to tell
Its travels to distant places
The people it has kissed and soothed
And the fields it has nourished
We are too busy to hear
And its language is beyond our knowing
Everything has a voice
Even destructive things
An earthquake has tales to tell
Its dance gone wild with longing
Its arrogant surge upward into the spotlight
For all to measure and marvel
We are too busy to hear
And its stories are to familiar
Little Fox
Meanwhile little fox asleep
Between my hands
Awakes
Bright eyes peer deep
She blinks then stands
And takes
No backward step
As into wilder lands
She breaks
Shudder
in the night of knowing
A star glimmers
A shudder of light
Far far below
One willow leaf
Released and flying
Floats
And after
Bathed in dew afresh
It gleams
**Kindling Friendship**
**I’m reposting this little interview as a way to let you know *Kindling Friendship is coming back…probably not every Friday, but every few weeks or so. And by the way, Yoga and I are still together, still wrestling with ideas and the practice of meaningful living. But more on that later. Blessings and sweetness to you, my darling readers!**
It’s been a rather dreary Friday today, with gray skies and
intermittent drizzle. And while inhabitants of the Willamette Valley expect daily rain come winter, I can’t help longing for one more summer day, one more forever-blue sky, one more soothing embrace of warmth before the deluge begins.
Alas…
But I can do something after all. Inside my home, I will soon be kindling the Sabbath light. By lighting candles to welcome the seventh day (according to Jewish calendars, each day begins at sunset the previous day), by commemorating the miracle of Creation, I sanctify time and space, bringing a sense of holiness into the world.
And on this particular Friday, I will also begin to set aside time and space to appreciate friendships which bring me warmth and light. Each Friday I will feature someone I consider a friend—a fellow writer, long-time reader, someone who inspires me, delights me…
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Easy
When words come
Gentle
As morning dew
It’s easy to walk past them
Without noticing
Easy to miss the way
Living things respond
With welcome
With gratitude
With the memory of thirst upon their tongues
Dirty Dozen Author Interview – Joan Myles/Poet #Uniqueauthors #Meetanauthor
Oh my, what a sweet surprise, I just have to share with my darling readers! Thanks for being there!
Author name: Joan Myles
Please tell us a little about yourself. What makes you a #Uniqueauthor? I am a poet. But poetry is not just what I do. Poetry is how the world speaks to me–musically, in “pictures” of the heart, in whispers of insight, and throbbings of connection. And if I succeed, the words I configure will do more than relate what I perceive. They will nudge readers to experience these marvels for themselves.
Please tell us about your publications/work. My first book, One With Willows is a collection of what I call “spiritually playful” poetry. You see, childlike wonder is my lens for viewing the world, childlike wonder and a sense of the Divine. And all my writing is meant to be a kind of footpath for readers into that place of delight, to help them awaken their own childlike wonder, perhaps to find Divinity for themselves.
What…
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Autumn
Calendars point
And almanacs predict
But you already knew
Autumn is coming
You caught her mood in the breeze
Felt her cocky glance in afternoon light
And as leaves gather at your feet
You hear her crackling voice
Calling you inside
Calling you back to your hearth
Your home and your family
And back to yourself
To what Summer’s frivolity
Holds out of reach
At the end of a very long day
