Since Thursday, nature has been boldly Requesting my attention. It was Thursday when lightning ripped a hole In the tall pine tree next to the house. The rip went from top to bottom. Bits were strewn everywhere across the yard And up on the roof. A board in the fence was broken. The garage door
Blank. Canvas. Paint. Begin. ~ by Stan Stewart Copyright © 2011 by muz4now, Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Outside my morning window, two birds are having a bit of a chat. It seems that they want to demonstrate that they each can sing A song of their own choosing. Amazing how such so-called “unintelligent” creatures understand So deeply for what they were created: to sing their own simple Song and not worry about
Spilling over to feeling contentment — Dread can no longer hold its sway — Waters of hope and longing and being Wash the well-known “lonely” away. Present to wonders of being the in breath: Simple reminders of compassion’s time. Rising and falling, the belly reminds us Of rhythms suspended like poems that don’t rhyme. ~
dragonflies are a lover’s best friend they do not pursue one another with that bashful fear we often see in humans they go after each other with playful glee and do not stop until they are attached one to the other ~ by Stan Stewart Copyright © 2011 by muz4now, Inc. All Rights Reserved.
dragonflies run in circles do cartwheels around each other around the lilypads around the lilies that rise above them dragonflies rise high above anything imaginable to this kayak-bound frog ~ by Stan Stewart Copyright © 2011 by muz4now, Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Today, if I could be any creature of my choosing, I would choose the dragonfly: For when I watch them circling about — buffeting against one other — I am drawn into their play and I long to be part of it. I know that in my current body That is not possible. So, for
The butterfly effect. I step out of my door early in the morning And choose to let my foot drop to the ground Where it will. Today, that footfall happens to be on a small Creature, barely visible if I had taken the time To look there and notice it. I will never know the
I saw a man standing — glassy-eyed And upward looking — at the side of the path. There were a few things he said that I cannot Be at all sure what they were. But these came through clear and bold: “I am OK. It is your choice to believe me or not. I do
It’s not that love disappeared. Not even close. It’s that there has been a fresh Blossoming of that delightful Sensation and desire in me. A kind of open-heart surgery Where I am both the physician And the patient. The object of my re-bloomed love? It is both you And the me that I had drowned
