Morning Trip (42)

“The Spiritual Seekers thirst after the quenching Waters of Knowledge. Blindly do some place their wandering feet upon many Pathways and, with their penchant for shortcuts, do fragment their many paths in an eager search of still others. Ever caught in the Maze of Confusion do they aimlessly toil with panic. While others, weary of expending effort, merely halt to sit–waiting for their “chosen” Teacher to miraculously materialize before them. Yet, in their lazy arrogant waiting, they stagnate. All their casting efforts are in vain, for the Knowledge they seek is found not in the Without, but has been with them all along–Within.

The Without Path cannot be
traveled until the Within Trail
has been traversed.”

–Mary Summer Rain, Volume One of Pinecones and Woodsmoke

Winter–Purple Profundity: Poetry by Elisabeth Connelley

that season
cold hard
stripped bare
happy, hope
remembered fondly
great vines and twists of leaves
sun soaked, and seduced until
the mind floats off into the sound
the wind making love with leaves
fruits hanging heavy
the golden lushness
the red flames
consume the view
the lust
harvest of summer dreams
stripped bare
now, harsh wind
a leaf hangs
here or there
stubborn clinging
to believe
winter is not bare
winter is not naked
winter is not what is

–elisabeth  connelley