In Keeping Still It was a day like every other during that period of my life. A student. An English student. I worked. I studied. I went to class. Circles. Ever-turning circles. But no labyrinth because there was no Minotaur at the center. A spiral of life. Onward. Steady. Paced. Then the day came. I entered the classroom. Dickens. A teacher that looked a bit like Father Christmas. Other students. I sat near the front, to the right....
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Opening Watering the flowers after a long, hot, dry spell the earth changing its color deepening its hue the flowers themselves savoring the new flow of refreshment happy in the sun now thirst quenched for the moment Filling the dishes food and water touching the soft heads saying, good morning do you want to go out? it might be a bit cold or too rainy or look at all that snow happy eyes gazing back almost a smile Opening my arms...
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Full Full I look at my emptiness And I see my full-up-ness Full of debris Broken pieces Remnants Leftovers of clashes Of lost connections Of misunderstandings And understandings made sparkling clear How do I sort it all out Make a path, even, through it all There are no trash bags for the soul And while the soul is made up of the dirt of our lives Too much refuse is still just that Too much We work on disciplines so that we may be...
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Standing Still I looked out at my journey. And I saw a head of broccoli: All sorts of paths heading out from one stem. Or at least giving the impression of heading out. Because each path ended in a burst. A flourishing. But, ultimately, going nowhere. A forest of trees – but no continuing on. Each tree becoming an ending in itself. So I just stood there. Knowing that each path was, essentially, that exact same as the others. It made...
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Burnt Offering Ashes: What is left over after the flame goes out. The fire. The fire of anger. The fire of lust. The fire of enthusiasm. Wholeness in pieces. My wholeness. My completeness. How do I function in pieces? Broken apart. My heart over here; my hand over there. Even if they retained their wholeness. Their completeness. I am broken apart. Scattered. Vulnerable to the the threatening wind. Or I could soak into the ground....
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