A poet is somebody who feels, and who expresses his feelings through words.
E. E. Cummings
This may sound easy. It isn’t.
A lot of people think or believe or know they feel — but that’s thinking or believing or knowing; not feeling. And poetry is feeling — not knowing or believing or thinking.
Almost anybody can learn to think or believe or know, but not a single human being can be taught to feel. Why? Because whenever you think or you believe or you know, you’re a lot of other people: but the moment you feel, you’re nobody-but-yourself.
To be nobody-but-yourself — in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else — means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting.
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Storm Clouds
Breathe in, breathe out,
Julia Fehrenbacher
breathe until you feel your bigness,
until the sun rises in your veins.
Breathe until you stop needing
anything to be different.I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
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I believe…
I have made it through some hard times in my life.
Steven Charleston
I imagine you have too.
Looking back, I can honestly say
That in more than one of those times
I was not sure I would make it.
The presence of a living and conscious love
Got me through.
I can only call it Spirit.
So my faith is not the product of an emotional need
Or an intellectual imagining.
I believe because I know. Because I have been there.
Because of my experience.
I cannot convince others of this truth.
I can only share it and wait to see
The light of memory in their eyes.I believe in the presence of a living and conscious love
because I, too, have been there and experienced it. -
… tears
while standing as a witness to the arrival of a new day
mws
and the gifts of nature reflecting in Dixon Reservoir
while a full moon sets over the mountains behind me
and nature’s predawn colors shifting from pink to orange
… tears run down my cheek! -
A Wonderful Start
bicycled to coffee shop, indulged in a hot tea
mws
wonderful start to Sunday or any day
now mid morning and sitting on my porch
circled by an almost cloudless blue sky
the seasons leaves of gold and yellow and red
reflected in the azure blue sky of the pond
yes, a wonderful start to Sunday or any day -
This morning…
tired after a night of wrestling for sleep
mws
I settled into silence, prayer, and meditation
ignoring the cold, I mounted my red steed for
an invigorating bicycle ride to the arboretum
then placed a latte made with love by Allie
on a tabernacle at an east facing window
with beams of sunlight enkindling blank pages
I sought words hidden within a favorite fountain pen -
Let me linger…
It may be a product of getting older
Steven Charleston, Spirit Wheel
But sometimes I want to stop time.
I want to make the sunsets last just a little longer.
I want the quiet mornings to go on and on
The laughter at the dinner table
To stretch out into a whole evening
The beauty of the clouds as they race
Across the valley to never end.
It is not that I want to freeze reality, just slow it down.
I want life to move as slowly as I do.
For I have learned that life moves far too fast as it is.
It is a joy that endures but briefly
Made of moments that pass as quickly as hummingbirds.
Let me linger in the love I feel.
Let me see the light for as long as I can.I stopped on my ride this evening because these daisies caught my eye. However, I was not the only one interested in the daisies as this bee busily flitted from flower to flower. So busy in fact, I never got a good infocus shot. Oh well. I watched and lingered and loved the moment.
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Keeping my eyes open
Each day offers moments enticing me to keep my eyes
mws
open and aware of the world around me.
No matter how familiar the world may appear to my senses
may these brief moments surprise me as never before.
Oh, to see the sacredness, simplicity, and beauty
of shadows spreading across on my bedroom wall.