Cromwell Meadow

21 03 2020

Purple

Early spring and

meadow flowers greet me with wafts of love –

this is their time;

that’s the way of meadow flowers.

 

Waiting…

through short light-filled days;

through cold rains and beneath blankets of snow;

abiding within death shrouded horizons until their time.

 

We are the uncomfortable ones…

I mean letting life be as it is meant to be.

We work to prolong what is not ours to extend:

pick it, preserve it, in-case it, flatten and dry it…

 

We want to hold on to a rose-colored life;

as we desire it to be;

as we want to perceive it to be;

but this is not life’s rhythm.

 

We’ll work so hard to change a flower’s form –

altering its essence in the process;

forgetting…

a flower is only being what a flower can be.

 

Living only in its time;

blooming in its time;

offering redolence and blessings in its time;

loving the world with presence in its time.

 

Displaying beauty and infusing color;

offering community for creation’s creatures;

giving itself for the good of the whole;

trusting it is part of something bigger…something sustaining.

 

And change persists –

giving way to withering – giving itself to the earth;

loving in a new form…

loving completely.

 

Still the essence and spirit of the buttercup and aster lives on –

within us – a part of our essence now;

something we cannot contain nor hold;

still giving us joy…still loving us.

 

Oh that we could be as the flower,

living fully within our time;

living beyond glass walls of power, fear, prestige or from between the pages of expectation;

relinquishing the work of preserving who we think we are or suppose to be.

 

to live fully – as the flower…

feeling the cool spring breeze,

leaning into life’s storms;

soaking in the sun’s light,

 

Creating and adding beauty to the world,

anticipating our blooming,

offering community;

knowing we are a part of something bigger – giving love…giving love

 

And when it is our time to be here no more;

knowing our essence and spirit lives on in those we have loved;

we will become a part of a bigger whole – Creations community…

in our time.

Yellow





like winter trees…

24 11 2018

Cades Cove 2 2

Open, exposed, naked –

I long for such vulnerability, transparency –

to be broken…stripped.

I know, in part, what I am asking…

I am aware – I do not know all that I ask.

 

Hidden for too long…

Protective for too long…

Closed for too long…

Too long captive to fear, guilt, and shame.

 

I have nothing more for them to take.

Stripped down to authenticity…

there is nothing more…

there is nothing more.

 

I sit on the edge of Cromwell’s meadow.

A sparrow sings songs of freedom as it flies across the barren field –

a sparrow being a sparrow.

So vulnerable…to be just what you were created to be…

how freeing.

 

True Life is found within this vulnerability…

this authenticity.

Real Life and freedom are revealed among the open, exposed, naked…

found, too, in my own barren fields.

 

Open, exposed, naked…

I wait for a sparrow to sing –

Knowing, in part, what the waiting means.

Knowing that I cannot know all that waiting will bring…

 

A Chickadee lights on the seedling in front of me…





Red-Winged Teacher

13 08 2017

CSC_0082edited

Hello my red-winged friend.

Here for our daily visit –

you on your post;

me sitting beside you.

 

You welcome me to your home with a song –

your hospitality soothing;

your flight beautiful across the meadow.

 

Teacher too –

landing on the thinnest of reeds;

trusting that you will be held;

closing your wings, giving up flight.

Now balanced –

trusting yourself to something greater;

trusting yourself to the nature of created order without question.

 

Tell me again your story.

Sing to me again your song.

Teach me again how to trust.





Life rises…

21 06 2013

YELLOW IRIS CLOSE

 

 

 

 

What is this longing pushing its way through the dark soil of my soul?

What is pleading to be birthed from the depths?

Ego – do not repress this blossoming by sowing your seeds of fear;

do not drown it with denial,

nor choke it with the weeds of self-doubt.

 

Freedom’s fruit is only patience, perseverance, and perception away;

 Life rises in the letting go;

in the Trusting…

 





I wonder…

9 02 2013

rusted car door 1

DSC_0065

 

 

 

 

 

I wonder what hands have opened this door?

I wonder for what, for whom, and to where?

And I wonder about its story of how it ended up here?

 

I could ask the same of me…





Pathways…

5 12 2012

The paths we walk –

            lush and green…

            at the edge of things…

            leading us toward Light…

            with imagined-filled canopies…

            inviting us into the unknown…

rising, revealing potential stumbles…

            traversing between  shadows and Light…

never a promise given;

 

but – maybe so…

always an adventure;

the Sacred present – always…

SHALEM AGAIN 072 Mt Mt. LeConte 157 ROOTED PATH PARKWAY WALK WAY Paths

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 





Wild and Tamed – our paradox…

9 10 2012

 

 

 

 

While on a hike, I came across this fence separating the neatly trimmed grass and the free growing, untamed grass. A line from Mary Oliver’s poem, “The Summer Day”, came to mind:

Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

(from New and Selected Poems, 1992)

I also noticed that the fence is bowed as if each side pushes toward and longs for the life of the other. I wonder if this is a parable of our own lives?





On the Edge…

27 07 2012

 

 

 

 

 

On the edge . . .

between falling and getting back up;

between losing and discovery;

between hope and despair;

between joy and grief;

between light and darkness;

between holding on and letting go;

between the status quo and exploration;

between play and depression;

between noise and silence;

between hearing and listening;

between the masks we wear and

the beauty of who we really are;

between choices . . .

 

May we have the courage to seek Truth within these “between” times.

May we have the grace to listen to Truth when it is given.

May we risk stepping into Truth’s sacred space — just a step at a time.

And may we know that we are not alone on this journey . . .

 

 





Just being…

28 05 2012

Just being whom they have been created to be –

no more,

no less.

Oh to learn from such a teacher… 

 

 

 

 

 

(Cromwell Valley Park, Baltimore, Maryland)