Penned Path

I suppose it is an inherent desire in all of us to be writers. We all long to re-write in some way our script of growing up. Today, on the anniversary of my father's passing, my mother having left this life earlier, I realize I have, at last, laid down the pen. Life's sun and weathering have gifted the sight of reflection. No need even to write "The End." Life continues, as do I, though no longer a role of daughter. There are some sunrises I wish the mountains would move and let me see. Some days the clouds are just to playful for my camera to see. And there are days when I am left breathless in awe of the wonder of life. The pen, laid down, opens both heart and eyes. I miss you Mama. I miss you Daddy. I bow in gratitude for the path that was penned.

The Perfect Friend

Still working with Lunacy, I sat with a stick of sage gently burning. Being curious, I moved my hand and watched the dance of sage fragrance bend, twist and weave against itself. Every action creates a reaction, whether seen or unseen. If the delicate stream of smoke had not been there, the invisible air would have still moved with my hand. And then to laugh, to think of how another’s hurtful actions were like a bellow blowing against me. No, not lunacy this time, it was indeed perfection. Their actions made visible what I had not seen within me. I waved my hand again to watch the dance then giggled – “You’re perfect my friend! Those who love me had not gifted the smoke so I could see! What greater friend than one who gifts the fragrant smoke of sage so I can see!” 

To Giggle with Bubbles

Do waterfall bubbles giggle when they soar in the air? How do trees dance in the wind but clouds stand still? How does the sun, rising above the mountain, paint the clipper clouds orange sherbet, but when it reaches the mountain peak they become billowy whipped cream? No doubt there are answers and wisdom. But for today, to be a child of awe and simply wonder and see. Giggle...is that not how wisdom begins.

Child to Child

We cherish the moments we walk with a child. Hands holding soft but firm. We adjust our stride to meet theirs. We look for danger. We give them strength but encourage their own. Time passes so slowly and life fills abundant and gentle. We change our voice so it is soft, gentle and encouraging. We remember how to laugh. We remember how to see. We notice. We listen. All because we walk with a child. Would that in all our walks, whatever the age of the one we are with, we would see the child. And with a soft whisper, reach out our hand, and say, “Come walk with me.”

Come Morning

 Wisdom be thou my Lover. Understanding my Partner. You have called my eyes to see. In fear, they were shut and later closed. I open them now for you. Disrobe whatever fear remains so that I may stand before you naked, as I am. As I was. Wisdom be thou my Lover. Understanding my Partner.
     I shall not be arrayed in white. Long ago innocence and I parted ways. But be not deceived by what you do not see. Fear not, my Lover, that I have given away that which was yours. Uncovered and undressed, my eyes, though shut and closed have never lost sight of thee.
     Come morning, may my eyes be opened by Wisdom’s kiss. May my body be lifted by Understanding’s outstretched hands. Awakened and alive I greet the day and bathe in the ocean of Love.
     Wisdom be thou my Lover. Understanding my Partner. And Love the breath of both.

One path

She has no lower limbs that would let you climb. You cannot climb upward to see what she sees, to view the world without gravity, to know nature's wisdom. You have to sit, roots to roots.  It is not a journey that can be made with the mind or eyes.  It is a journey reserved for the heart.