Grace

and as I stand
a little closer
to my grave today,
when strands of silver
line the oval of my face,
I am learning to look into
the half-glowing heavens,
in silent curiosity,
with a steadfast faith
coursing through
my pulsing jugular,
and with one full breath,
call out my own blessed name,
and raise a full-throated song
giving thanks to this world,
which always gives me
my choicest meal,
without ever asking
for my name.

Overflow

there was a time
when I was afraid
of fullness,
too scared to reach
the frontiers
of my emotions,
and the dark edges
of my fallible existence,
and so I would skirt the shores,
keeping away from the waves
rushing in excitedly
to sweep me off my feet,
and I would watch them
with feigned indifference,
from the safe rims
of my half-open eyes,
and dip my trembling toes
into the receding waters -
the easier part of the flow;

until that one moment
when I looked into the eyes
of a foaming wave,
running in to gather me in her arms,
filling me with a terrifying anticipation,
washing me over with her love,
and grinding me to a deathly pause
on the sands of uncertainty;
and in the quiet presence
of the firmament above,
my being rested among the waves,
as I was held in her endless dance
of arrivals and goodbyes,
of losses and renewals,
of belonging and abandonment,
of fullness and emptiness,
and I knew then
in that one blessed moment,
how to hold myself
as a brimming cup,
where parts of me took form,
from the brink of that fullness,
born from the overflow
of a love
that cannot be held back
but only given and shared,
with a world that thrives
on quiet unseen abundance.

Abundance

some seeds
are born to die
in a world
born too soon
for their opening;
so they close
and crumble,
to feed other seeds
the breath of a world
they will never get to see.

Passion

Passion is
a gurgling spring
on the brink,
ready to burst forth
and give of herself
to the whole of life.

Passion is a life-force -
the genesis of purpose,
the well spring of desire,
the undying flame
of hope and revival,
to thrive
in the sacred
web of life.

Passion is
to set yourself
and the world
on fire;
to breathe fire,
walk with fire,
through fire, and
into abundance.

Passion is love
on the edge
of being
made visible.

There is enough, for everyone

I dip my weary feet
into the cool waters
of a wayside stream,
making her journey
from the silent mountains,
through untouched forests,
by glaring highways,
meandering through noisy towns,
over naked grasslands,
and into the vast ocean beyond...
There are many
who drink from her fountain,
and yet, there is enough,
for everyone.

If only we can take our fill
in this moment, and
not fill her in a bottle,
sealed; a keepsake,
or to save us on a rainy day;
if only we can delight
in the joy she unfolds, and
watch her flow the way she knows,
to give us enough and more,
there is enough, for everyone.

Spring in the Desert

The desert tree
soaks its roots
in the parched earth,
looking to the vast sky
that holds all,
watching birds
traverse thousands of miles
to rest on its branches,
trembling as the wind
ruffles its brittle leaves,
stirring it from the stillness,
born from being alone.

Seeing the world
with new eyes -
a desert transformed
into an oasis,
standing tall
with a deep knowing
that spring is
just around the corner,
it soaks its roots
deeper into the earth,
that's cracking open
to hold the rain.

Abundance

the jagged edges of a cliff
reveal the calming shore,
busy eyes ski and glow
over gentle, snow cream slopes;
the stark, barren desert
distills its mystical charm,
waterfalls and rivulets
fill a heart with gushing warmth;
the inescapable darkness
draws me into its riveting folds,
storm clouds gather quietly
to distract a happy soul;
as I look outside with wonder,
and give thanks to an abundant world,
can I find a richness and beauty
as my inner landscape unfolds?

The Water's Edge

I stand on the water's edge.
My footprints are but a smudge
on the contours of the dry sand -
an invisible trail
to where I am now.
My eyes dance towards the horizon,
trying to make sense of its elusive existence.
Where does the earth meet the sky?
Where can that invisible place be?
Blue waters and white foam
lap around my sinking feet,
bringing me back
to where I am now.
Rooted, grounded,
in the wet sands
of infinite possibilities...
I see foot marks now-
soon they will be washed away
by the endless waves of time,
to leave no trace of today.
There are no footprints
to leave behind or follow,
when I soak in the presence
of endless abundance
as I stand on the water's edge.