I’m getting ready to take another step on the spiral walk in the great adventure we call “Life.” I’ll be holding the Light, finding my way as the unknown reveals itself through people, places and events.
The Black Hills are singing loudly, their voices have reached me all the way out here on the Pacific shores. What are they telling me? How will I know? The first step is always to just show up. So, for a week I will show up to walk in the places that I love. To listen to the thoughts of beloved friends. Mostly to listen to my own voice.
The spiral is gracious enough to allow for starts and stops, stumbles and pauses and starting over again. The spiral holds answers for right now that are waiting to be discovered. The spiral will not disappoint. It can only be what it is – the great emptiness open to creation.
Perhaps we will meet along the way!
The Black Hills are singing loudly, their voices have reached me all the way out here on the Pacific shores. What are they telling me? How will I know? The first step is always to just show up. So, for a week I will show up to walk in the places that I love. To listen to the thoughts of beloved friends. Mostly to listen to my own voice.
The spiral is gracious enough to allow for starts and stops, stumbles and pauses and starting over again. The spiral holds answers for right now that are waiting to be discovered. The spiral will not disappoint. It can only be what it is – the great emptiness open to creation.
Perhaps we will meet along the way!
seeing
do you know me when you hear
my voice calling
from wisps of fading dreams
just as dawn breaks through
or in the brown eyes of the child
you passed by in the market,
smiling shyly from the shadows
of the ivy covered booths
do you see me walking
in fading light of evening
or waving from the crowds
at the parade
has my fragrance wafted
through your windows
or has my singing of a robin song
begged you to pause?
in half remembered places
that are thin enough
to reach beyond the limits of the dense
deep into the holiness of Mystery
we meet we touch
we sing we dance
in all those fleeting moments
we have not planned
-pb © 2013
do you know me when you hear
my voice calling
from wisps of fading dreams
just as dawn breaks through
or in the brown eyes of the child
you passed by in the market,
smiling shyly from the shadows
of the ivy covered booths
do you see me walking
in fading light of evening
or waving from the crowds
at the parade
has my fragrance wafted
through your windows
or has my singing of a robin song
begged you to pause?
in half remembered places
that are thin enough
to reach beyond the limits of the dense
deep into the holiness of Mystery
we meet we touch
we sing we dance
in all those fleeting moments
we have not planned
-pb © 2013
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