Morning Trip (95)

“We gaze with perplexity at the highest part of the spiral of force that governs the Universe. And we call it God. We could give it any other name: Abyss, Mystery, Absolute Darkness, Total Light, Matter, Spirit, Supreme Hope, Supreme Despair, Silence. But we call it God, because only this name – for some mysterious reason – is capable of making our heart tremble with vigor. And let there be no doubt that this trembling is absolutely indispensable for us to be in contact with the basic emotions of the human being, emotions that are always beyond any explanation or logic.”
–the Greek author Nikos Kazantzakis

Something Different, The Path, and A Work in Progress

I am writing this one as I move through it. I yelled at myself and stated the question…Whyyyy would anyone want to read a post before it was done, and why might they come back over and over, without getting annoyed??

Another part laughed and thought that the selection: The Path, was a great one. If I am waking up, what will I do with it. Have I been ‘lost’ and off of my ‘path’? I feel like it. The laughing part says..shhhh, listen to the dew on each blade of grass as you move through the sound and move through the tree place with your mind. Remember, you can do that!!

The sun is coming up. Trees are moving in their slow tree ways. Heavier drops fall through greenery to the floor of the praying circle near the Tree of Many Faces. Morning birds and butterflies flit from hidden leaf to hidden stem of weed and plant. All, spin and turn and each do their job, as created to do.

I wonder, do they wonder if they have a path, is it right or wrong?
Shush, keep moving, now stand still listen and feel the waking space of ground.

Follow swaying root down, reaching limb up, light and air and water sparkle touch each and all.

God is Moving!

Off to listen for a bit. Maybe I’ll come back. 🙂

Morning Trip (71)

When the Sky Clears
“The drop grows happy by losing itself in the river.
A pain when beyond human range becomes something else.

One man’s heart died when he insisted on treating his own problems.
Sometimes people solve jute knots by rubbing them on rocks.

Since I am weak, I sigh instead of weeping.
My experience tells me that water can change and become air.

The sky abruptly clears following thick clouds and heavy rain.
The clouds, recognizing separation, cried and vanished into non-existence.

We make the back of the mirror green in order to see our faces.
Sometimes nature makes the front of the mirror green as well.

We love seeing the beauty of poppies and lilies.
When the eyes lose themselves in the colors, they are seeing at last.”
– Ghalib
translated by Robert Bly

And then…the Creator has other plans!–Purple Profundity: Poetry by Elisabeth Connelley

One drop of rains falls.
It can be ignored.
More gently patter down.
I look up (do you?).
A teasing pause.
One drop, two, a rush, a dance
The mind moves, the body follows.
A weaving dance, feeling joy, creating downpours of expression,
rising, twisting, and spinning
across a pattern of life
simple joy.
I smile, inside and out (do you?).
Come to ground.
Refreshed by self after converting gift of rain.
I sit, peacefully (do you?).
I watch the gift of ground.

–elisabeth connelley