poetry

31 Mar

Posted at 07:04h in Glimpse into Me, poetry by

There Is A Place There is a place Where pain is a seed, Where Soul attends To Self and its needs. Where thinking and doing Are effortlessly right. Insight and compassion Hold us, irrevocably, As moon holds the night. The brain sprouts thoughts, As the ocean makes waves, And the dawn falls forward Through close of the day. Where the nature of things Is open and free - And love flows Between us Spontaneously. Soften, soothe, Accept what is, Be kind to others, Attend to your needs. Here I am the sun, the stars, A little boy - For sky has clouds, Trees have leaves, and I am freaking out with joy. Craig Stanton is a student of mine at George Mason University in the Leadership & Wellbeing...

29 Nov

Posted at 06:44h in poetry by

BY JANE HIRSHFIELD A man reaches close and lifts a quarter from inside a girl’s ear, from her hands takes a dove she didn’t know was there. Which amazes more, you may wonder: the quarter’s serrated murmur against the thumb or the dove’s knuckled silence? That he found them, or that she never had, or that in Portugal, this same half-stopped moment, it’s almost dawn, and a woman in a wheelchair is singing a fado that puts every life in the room on one pan of a scale, itself on the other, and the copper bowls balance. ...

28 May

Posted at 10:19h in poetry, spirituality by

RIP Maya Angelou -- (1928-today) and thank you for your courageously bold and beautiful voice. I know why the caged bird sings resonates in my heart, too. Power over others master --> slave --> dog Herstory repeats itself. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings A free bird leaps on the back Of the wind and floats downstream Till the current ends and dips his wing In the orange suns rays And dares to claim the sky. But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage Can seldom see through his bars of rage His wings are clipped and his feet are tied So he opens his throat to sing. The caged bird sings with a fearful trill Of...

15 Apr

Posted at 13:19h in poetry by

Snow, even in April. (6 months since the first snow fall, but who's counting and on what measures?) The intricacies of a flower; no man created that and the blessings of montezuma's revenge to cleanse and heal as we really welcome spring to be experienced as if for the first time with beginners' eyes really open hearts remembering to choose love minimizing judgment a p p r e c i a t i n g < embracing > simple joys....

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