Are we stuck in patterns round,
Seeking that which can't be found,
Trying on the truth for size,
While living in the world's disguise?
Are we searching with eyes closed,
Wandering further in repose,
Looking back to forge ahead
Into a wall of past regret?
Are we going nowhere fast,
While temporary vision lasts,
Pulling from the push and shove
An explanation not of love?
Are we doing any good
Deducing what's misunderstood,
Making progress towards no end
To straighten wills remaining bent?
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Friday, October 16, 2009
External
Otherwise, it's changing clothes,
Bandaging a wound that grows,
Applying knowledge that is flawed,
Amending contracts with a clause,
Guessing endings from the start,
Patching what's been torn apart,
Viewing surface seeking depth,
Regretting what's not happened yet.
Bandaging a wound that grows,
Applying knowledge that is flawed,
Amending contracts with a clause,
Guessing endings from the start,
Patching what's been torn apart,
Viewing surface seeking depth,
Regretting what's not happened yet.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Blooming
One of my orchids bloomed. It wasn't the same as when we purchase an orchid in bloom. This orchid has been in my care for a long time, hanging in a tree, and hasn't bloomed. None of them have, as a matter of fact - because I am learning how to bloom, too. Part of my own blooming involves learning how to care for things, for people, for animals, for the Earth, for the work of my hands.
When I noticed the bloom, my heart jumped! There they were, two perfect flowers so pale pink and white, so fragile, so beautiful. I was stunned. I was flattered. I was elated. I took the pot into my hands and carefully brought the plant closer to me for a good look. I sat in a chair under the tree, holding it in my lap and drinking in the wonder of this incredible gift. It was like God looked down upon me and smiled, knew that I needed something special and wonderful at just the right time, and thought these blooms into existence.
As I held this beautiful, magical creation in my lap and studied it in awe, I realized that I often forget to bloom. I am alive, and my roots are deep. I have the nutrients I need for life. Each day I accomplish that which I need to and move on to the next. But somewhere in there I forget to stop and bloom - to do something outstanding and creative and different from the routine. I forget to do more than just live - but instead to send a message to the world that I am cared for, loved, nurtured, and happy. That's what the bloom said to me, and it made my day.
When I noticed the bloom, my heart jumped! There they were, two perfect flowers so pale pink and white, so fragile, so beautiful. I was stunned. I was flattered. I was elated. I took the pot into my hands and carefully brought the plant closer to me for a good look. I sat in a chair under the tree, holding it in my lap and drinking in the wonder of this incredible gift. It was like God looked down upon me and smiled, knew that I needed something special and wonderful at just the right time, and thought these blooms into existence.
As I held this beautiful, magical creation in my lap and studied it in awe, I realized that I often forget to bloom. I am alive, and my roots are deep. I have the nutrients I need for life. Each day I accomplish that which I need to and move on to the next. But somewhere in there I forget to stop and bloom - to do something outstanding and creative and different from the routine. I forget to do more than just live - but instead to send a message to the world that I am cared for, loved, nurtured, and happy. That's what the bloom said to me, and it made my day.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)