One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice –
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do –
determined to save
the only life you could save.

~ Mary Oliver ~

Breathe deep

You are here now

Resting here with me

I am all you ever need

I am the flowing river,

the stars and golden sun,

the still mountains and the swaying trees.

You who have lost your way

I am but a breath away

A simple breath away, always

You want to know the way?

The way in is a breath of faith

You’re not out here all alone

Breathe deep and say: I am not alone.

Life wants to take care of you

Life wants to caress you and

Sing you to sleep

It wants most of all for you to know

the depth of love available to you.

It is always there

And it’s there now

Beckoning softly

Come, come, come

Dance lightly, sweetly toward me

I am here for you to lean on evermore

I am not your child, your parents, your relatives, nor your friends

The hands of Divinity are everywhere constant, limit less.

You, who have suffered, throw off the dark garb and come running to me.

Spend a few minutes with an object, any object, and find God in it, here is where I am.

Let it envelop you and seduce you with it’s own unique God-ness

Now you know you have been seen and heard, come back to this place should you falter again.

©heartsdeesire

It appears that it was all a misunderstanding.
What was only a trial run was taken seriously.
The rivers will return to their beginnings.
The wind will cease in its turning about.
Trees instead of budding will tend to their roots.
Old men will chase a ball, a glance in the mirror—
They are children again.
The dead will wake up, not comprehending.
Till everything that happened has unhappened.
What a relief! Breathe freely, you who suffered much.

~Czeslaw Milosz~
New and Collected Poems 1931-2001

The ordinary miracles begin. Somewhere
a signal arrives: “Now,” and the rays
come down. A tomorrow has come. Open
your hands, lift them: morning rings
all the doorbells; porches are cells for prayer.
Religion has touched your throat. Not the same now,
you could close your eyes and go on full of light.

And it is already begun, the chord
that will shiver glass, the song full of time
bending above us. Outside, a sign:
a bird intervenes; the wings tell the air,
“Be warm.” No one is out there, but a giant
has passed through town, widening streets, touching
the ground, shouldering away the stars.

~William Stafford~
William Tell: Poems by William Stafford

]]> http://simplyblessed.heartsdeesire.com/2011/12/08/today-2/feed/ 0 Beth/Bethie sunrise-rays-over-indian-basin http://simplyblessed.heartsdeesire.com/2011/12/03/for-free/ http://simplyblessed.heartsdeesire.com/2011/12/03/for-free/#comments Sat, 03 Dec 2011 23:21:42 +0000 heartsdeesire http://simplyblessed.heartsdeesire.com/?p=3751 ]]>

Joni Mitchell wrote a song “For Free” many years ago.  It was the song
about the sax (?) player, playing on a noisy street corner.  A song of how
everyone passed his music by.  That song left an indelible imprint, a resolve
in me to take less for granted.  I wanted to notice, to appreciate and to savor more.

This is also probably the number one tool that could get someone out
of a mild depression.  Just to make it your only job to look, to listen, to observe
the beauty and the wonder that abounds.

Did you know the average healthy mature oak tree has over 200.000 leaves?
That’s a lot of appreciation to go around.  And when they drop they give nutrients
to the soil, it’s a double dipper appreciation!

No one has counted the needles of a redwood but they produce over 100,000 cones a year, thus a single tree can produce over ten million seeds annually.  That’s one Fertile Myrtle (though technically not in the Myrtle family :))

For Free.

The air, your breath, your thoughts, your feelings, your talents, your beating heart
16 trillion behind-the-scenes processes in your body ….

For Free.

receiving and giving love, adoring anything or anyone for a millisecond or a life time
The man on the street corner strumming his guitar
a thank you, with the flesh of a palm reaching out to another palm
unexplained synchronicities and explained ones too
hugs and kisses

For Free.

the smells of freshly cooked food
the admiration for the time and talent that went into that food
including the appreciation for the plants and animals that provided this nourishment

For Free.

Your body as your temple
The song of the meadowlark in the distance
or the song of crisp clean sheets snapping across the air
the shore seagulls scurrying for fresh food at low tide
the water of which we are made
and the formlessness to which we return

Suzanne takes you down to her place near the river
You can hear the boats go by
You can spend the night beside her
And you know that she’s half crazy
But that’s why you want to be there
And she feeds you tea and oranges
That come all the way from China
And just when you mean to tell her
That you have no love to give her
Then she gets you on her wavelength
And she lets the river answer
That you’ve always been her lover
And you want to travel with her
And you want to travel blind
And you know that she will trust you
For you’ve touched her perfect body with your mind.

And Jesus was a sailor
When he walked upon the water
And he spent a long time watching
From his lonely wooden tower
And when he knew for certain
Only drowning men could see him
He said “All men will be sailors then
Until the sea shall free them”
But he himself was broken
Long before the sky would open
Forsaken, almost human
He sank beneath your wisdom like a stone
And you want to travel with him
And you want to travel blind
And you think maybe you’ll trust him
For he’s touched your perfect body with his mind.

Now Suzanne takes your hand
And she leads you to the river
She is wearing rags and feathers
From Salvation Army counters
And the sun pours down like honey
On our lady of the harbour
And she shows you where to look
Among the garbage and the flowers
There are heroes in the seaweed
There are children in the morning
They are leaning out for love
And they will lean that way forever
While Suzanne holds the mirror
And you want to travel with her
And you want to travel blind
And you know that you can trust her
For she’s touched your perfect body with her mind.

Lord: it is time. The huge summer has gone by.
Now overlap the sundials with your shadows,
and on the meadows let the wind go free.

Command the fruits to swell on tree and vine,
grant them a few more warm transparent days,
urge them onto fulfillment then, and press
the final sweetness into the heavy wine.

Whoever has no house now, will never have one.
Whoever is alone will stay alone,
will sit, read, write long letters through the evening,
and wander on the boulevards, up and down,
restlessly, while the dry leaves are blowing.

~Rainer Maria Rilke

excerpted from Ahead Of All Parting: The Selected Poetry and Prose of RMR
edited and translated by Stephen Mitchell

I want simply to get inside the words within the words

the saint’s velvet garbs say nothing of the saints themselves

speak to me not of shelves or bindings where words lay

but read me that first line that caught you with your breath held right there, quivering in your throat

tell me how it knew you deeper than any man or woman could ever know

how with a few strokes it could leave you raw, naked and yet, so wholly understood

Tell me how you live for these moments

Where poem meets reader and melds into the warm inviting, buttery lips of that world

there, held timeless in a sea of remembering what we thought had been lost

and, we as humans, forever held between this world and that

©heartsdeesire

the sea of forgetfulness

plunge yourself into these warm waters

where all mistakes
yours and mine
are honored as the path of evolving souls

trembling hearts are forever soothed here
minds and bodies restored to its original perfection

drink from its ancient wisdom
let her sweep you into her tide
pulling you in deep, then deeper still

then rising and lifting you onto soft green fields
now, who you really are is deeply known here

drink, here, in these waters
they envelop and nourish Rumi’s field

“out beyond all ideas of right doing and wrong doing”*
where all else is surrendered and falls away.

in…the sea of forgetfulness

©heartsdeesire
*in quotation marks is a portion of Rumi’s poem.

in your laughter and your tears

I Am there

this shining dream you are having

I Am there

certain your failure is immense

I Am there

tangled in sheets of half sleep

I Am there

feeling trapped and frightened

I Am there

your sun goes down slowly

wondering, was I enough?

life disentangles from the flesh and pools around your feet

the streets hold nothing for you now

a final languid breath

your earth grows quiet

a turn of the page

Remember this:

I Am there

©heartsdeesire