Always running, never arriving
What next? What next?
The thought-train thunders
hither and thither
always moving, never still.
What can help?
Get off the train!
Movement never arrives
never ceases.
Awareness is stillness.
Don’t miss stopping at the station.
No need to keep hurtling forward.
Take a breath.
Rest.
Awareness is stillness.
© 23 May 21
I am here, body, mind and spirit in Oneness.
I present myself to you
I offer my presence
I’m here for you
I’m willing to listen,
to hear, to feel, to acknowledge.
I stand in the presence of Oneness
I melts away, Oneness only is present.
This gift I give to myself
being present, being full and whole.
What great gift is there than presence?
Being here, for ourselves
for each other
dissolving difference.
© 20 May 21
Togetherness and presence
are joyful qualities of home.
No need for mind to be off
dancing on some distant shore
or out among galaxies.
No need for mind to be
swirling mundanely round
the supermarket with a
long list of ‘should’ and ‘to-do’s.
Coming home I am free.
Qualities such as fear and mistrust
can be laid on the doorstep
no need to invite them in.
Home is here and now
Mind and body anchored together as One.
Togetherness and presence
are joyful qualities of home.
© 20 May 21
Don’t jump in
don’t rush to find words
let silence envelope you
immerse you in
it’s welcoming presence.
Wait
to hear, truly hear
what is reverberating in silence.
Burbling clouds roll above
thunder clouds
full of words and bluster
saying nothing.
Below
is a deep, calm well of peace
quiet and still
unmoving
unperturbed
by the thunder clouds above.
Here in this deep well of peace
are words to pay attention to.
Heed what these words say,
full of space and knowing.
© 15 May 21
Walking in the garden for the last time
I wonder who will harvest and enjoy the potatoes
not yet ready to be unearthed.
Who will share in the juiciness of the raspberries not yet seasoned?
Who will pick and sample the apples growing so abundantly
on the ancient-looking trees?
Will it be left to the birds, and the caterpillars
and worms to enjoy these delicacies?
After twenty-five years of love and care
the owners are moving out and
it is not yet known
who will move in.
Will the new owners be gardeners?
Will they appreciate the work and devotion
that has maintained this garden over two and a half decades?
Will they know to leave the seed heads for the birds to feast on?
Will they sit on the bank on warm summer evenings
and recognise the variety of birdsong
and watch the sun sink behind the house?
This garden has been created and nurtured
through a generation,
allowing children to play and grow up and
fall out of trees that stand like ancient monuments;
allowing its owner to paint here
every day,
capturing the new life of crocus bulbs
and pear blossom.
Now it is to be left behind,
a secret garden that has no one
to whisper its secrets to,
a hidden oasis in the midst of
a bustling market town,
unknown to the shoppers and farmers who wander
on the other side of its walls.
Now it has been let go of,
been surrendered to the seasons and
the vagaries of unknown new owners.
And in the letting go
a new garden can begin to live elsewhere.
The beauty and nourishment palpable in this garden
does not come only from the trees and flowers and
sculptural thistles that tower above our heads,
but from the owners, whose
love and tenderness and patience and attention
have created this garden
and these attributes go with them
to be born again in
new earth,
with new plants and trees
and soon the birds will come and sing
and enjoy the feasts generously offered to them.
© 13 Jul 13
Walking this path
everyone meets stones
which cut their feet,
tree roots to trip over,
no-entry signs
and locked gates,
boulders that seem impassable.
Walking this path
our shared experience
is suffering
if that’s what we choose to focus on.
Our shared humanity
can also be joy and happiness
in accompanied walking,
helping each other
to notice stones,
avoid the tree roots,
find a new path
around the no-entry signs,
offer a helping hand
with the impassable boulders.
Our shared experience can be
not minding the stones or tree roots,
not complaining about the locked gates,
accepting the boulders,
and still finding
a reason to be joyful and happy
as we journey together
step by step.
© 26 Apr 21
Who do I say that I am?
Silence is always sounding.
Do I listen to the sound
reverberating energetically
or the silence from which
the sound is sprung?Silence is always sounding
often covered by noise.
I spend my day
telling myself
“mortal am I”
and with this death sentence
fear, doubt, confusion and unease
accompany as apocalyptic horsemen.
In a moment of awakening
a moment of reality
I hear the true sound
“immortal am I”
“love am I “
“peace am I”.
Everything changes.
Hearing moves from
sound to silence.
Externally
everything continues.
Internally
all is quiet, still, joyful.
Simply a change of direction
a shift from mortal to immortal.
Silence is always sounding
if choose to hear.
“immortal am I”
“love am I “
“peace am I”.
© 25 Apr 21
