A Canvas …

What would you do with a canvas,
a brush, and colours?

What could you bring to a table set blank
with paints, and space to make your mark,
to leave your print.

I have a feeling He’s given us permission
to pick the paints,
and the colours that reflect us. Continue reading “A Canvas …”

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The Meadow (Summer Solstice Meditation) …

I hear the unblown flute,
In the deep summer shadows …
Basho

 

As we walk into words that have waited for us to enter them, so
the meadow, muddy with dreams, is gathering itself together

and trying, with difficulty, to remember how to make wildflowers.
Imperceptibly heaving with the old impatience, it knows

for certain that two horses walk upon it, weary of hay.
The horses, sway-backed and self important, cannot design

how the small white pony mysteriously escapes the fence every day.
This is the miracle just beyond their heavy-headed grasp, Continue reading “The Meadow (Summer Solstice Meditation) …”

Winter Has A Gift To Give …

Winter here is a demanding season—and not everyone appreciates the discipline. It is a season when death’s victory can seem supreme: few creatures stir, plants do not visibly grow, and nature feels like our enemy. And yet the rigors of winter, like the diminishments of autumn, are accompanied by amazing gifts. Continue reading “Winter Has A Gift To Give …”

The Soul of a Pilgrim: Eight Practices for the Journey Within (Book Recommendation)

Kindle ebook is $4.99 on Amazon.com for a limited time.

The Soul of a Pilgrim: Eight Practices for the Journey Within (Kindle Edition) by Christine Valters Paintner

Continue reading “The Soul of a Pilgrim: Eight Practices for the Journey Within (Book Recommendation)”

I Want To Write Of The Light …

I want to think again of dangerous and noble things.
I want to be light and frolicsome.
I want to be improbable beautiful and afraid of nothing,
as though I had wings.
― Mary Oliver from Owls and Other Fantasies: Poems and Essays

Continue reading “I Want To Write Of The Light …”

The Meadow and Prayer …

As we walk into words that have waited for us to enter them, so
the meadow, muddy with dreams, is gathering itself together

and trying, with difficulty, to remember how to make wildflowers.
Imperceptibly heaving with the old impatience, it knows

for certain that two horses walk upon it, weary of hay. Continue reading “The Meadow and Prayer …”

Silence: Understanding the Divine …

At first this silence had seemed a deprivation, a symbol of an unwanted isolation.  I had resented the solitude of my life and fought it. But gradually the enveloping quiet became a positive element, almost a presence, which settled comfortably and caressingly around Continue reading “Silence: Understanding the Divine …”