Let my gift to the world be
Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer from The Unfolding
my constancy, a devotion to openness,
my willingness to be with what is.
Let my gift to myself be patience
as I tend to what is dense and dark.
Let my gift…
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Exploring..
Hemp dogbane (Apocynum cannabinum) covered in dew We shall not cease from exploration,
T.S. Eliot
and the end of all our exploring
will be to arrive where we started
and know the place for the first time.It was a cool bicycle ride on this August morning. The temperature was at 56 degrees and the humidity was over 90% when I mounted the red steed and headed for the coffee shop. I could see the fog lazily drifting along the eastern horizon but we had none here. I had never thought of my bicycling as a form of exploration but I am coming to see that it is. It is not much different than walking the trails, at least at the meandering speed I pedal. I needed to stop on the way home and photograph these (Apocynum cannabinum) leaves covered in dew along Spring Creek Trail. The leaves and stems are quite lovely but probably not something to put in your salad ( see the link). I hope you have a wonderful Tuesday!
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Identity Papers
This morning’s sunrise… Why do people keep asking
Mary Oliver
to see God’s identity papers
when the darkness
opening into morning
is more than enough? -
…the world depends on it
Because
So I can’t save the world—
Because from The Unfolding by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
can’t save even myself,
can’t wrap my arms around
every frightened child, can’t
foster peace among nations,
can’t bring love to all who
feel unlovable.
So I practice opening my heart
right here in this room and being gentle
with my insufficiency. I practice
walking down the street heart first.
And if it is insufficient to share love,
I will practice loving anyway.
I want to converse about truth,
about trust. I want to invite compassion
into every interaction.
One willing heart can’t stop a war.
One willing heart can’t feed all the hungry.
And sometimes, daunted by a task too big,
I tell myself what’s the use of trying?
But today, the invitation is clear:
to be ridiculously courageous in love.
To open the heart like a lilac in May,
knowing freeze is possible
and opening anyway.
To take love seriously.
To give love wildly.
To race up to the world
as if I were a puppy,
adoring and unjaded,
stumbling on my own exuberance.
To feel the shock of indifference,
of anger, of cruelty, of fear,
and stay open. To love as if it matters,
as if the world depends on it. -
The quiet of early morning…
the quiet of early morning … the perfect end to the night,
mws
a splash of pink nestled in the clouds
along the eastern horizon,
while the same delicate clouds
are mirrored in the calm waters,
mallards feed along the water’s edge
making their little sounds of joy,
a great blue heron stands motionless
eyes fixed below the surface,
a red tail hawk flies overhead
with its morning prey locked in talons,
the quiet of early morning … the perfect start to the day.Our air quality this morning is much better than the past two days. So I made a trip to catch the sunrise, the colors, and the clouds at Pineridge Natural Area. We are expecting it to be in the high 90s today. Have a wonderful Thursday!
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There is this Invitation
Toward Peace
Clematis Perhaps some part of me still believes
Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer, Toward Peace
peace is a destination,
a place we arrive, ideally together.
I notice how shiny it is, this belief,
like a flower made of crystal,
beautiful, but lifeless,
devoid of the dust and scuff
that come from living a real day.
Meanwhile, there is this invitation
to grow into peace the way real flowers grow—
in the dirt. With blight and drought,
beetles and hail.
Meanwhile this invitation
to live in the tangle of fear and failure,
to be humbled by my own inner wars
and wonder how to find a living peace
right here, the peace that arrives
when we take just one step through the mess
toward compassion and notice
as our foot rises our heart also rises
and in that lifted moment
still scraping along in the dirt,
there is a peace so real we become light,
become the momentum that is the change. -
In the silence…
in the silence
mws
a new day begins
as the sun rises above the horizon
in the silence
beams of golden light
illuminate our dark shadows
in the silence
we find hope, love and healing
for a broken and troubled world -
Hanging Around Friends
Something whispered something that was not even a word. It was more like silence that was understandable.
Mary OliverI’ve been struggling with health issues for the past 4 days. Primarily deep back pain that penetrates my chest. I’ve had about every test possible checking for blood clots, strokes, seizures, and any heart issues. I have many symptoms of pleurisy, but all the testing came back negative. So, I am taking six Tylenol a day and resting. I haven’t been to the natural areas, bicycling, or photography as much. However, I made it to Mugs for an Old Town mocha and gathered around friends this morning. Seems hanging around friends is good medicine. I’ve kept up with my journaling and been reading some new poetry. I hope all is well with you. And, thanks for listening to me whine.
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The Voice
There is a voice inside of you
Shel Silverstein
That whispers all day long,
“I feel this is right for me,
I know that this is wrong.”
No teacher, preacher, parent, friend
Or wise man can decide
What’s right for you–just listen to
The voice that speaks inside. -
Only the meadow remains…
This morning’s sunrise at Pineridge Natural Area In the early morning hours
mws
I sit in silence with the meadow and
allow her to embrace me.
I share the dawn of this new day
while listening to the owl’s cry
echo through the meadow.
This shared intimacy with the meadow
has a way of giving birth to new life
in the ground of my being.
… I am, therefore, never the same!
And, I hear in this sacred place
an unspoken invitation to return again
each time bringing an awareness that
each short visit is but a passing moment.
So, whenever and while I still can
I will sit with the meadow
until only the meadow remains.This was inspired from a poem written by Li Po (Zazen on Ching-t’ing Mountain) in the book Poetry of Presence: An Anthology of Mindfulness Poems.
