accepting

When a great adventure is offered, you don't refuse it.
– Amelia Earhart

the wind whips around
the thoughts that kept her
stationary…as she yields
to touch the peripheries
of a new found lifting

up through the the fringes
of late summer leaves- beyond
to taste the clarity of defying
gravity–as flight replaces
all that is earth bound

flying in a flood, a rush
of new blood in sky air
a hush of august rain

to these truths she cannot
abstain—but naturally
with warm rain does wear

~kate lamberg (c) '17

What if you didn’t
make it to the front of the line,
finish the marathon, or
beat the crowd?

What if you didn’t
inspire vast ripples on the web,
go viral with your gospel, or
create new cyber trends?

What if you didn’t
learn to speak another language,
drive a car across country, or
blossom into a true blue yogi?

What if you didn’t
use more time to just listen,
be still and reflect, or
simply hold out your hand?

What if you didn’t
permit yourself passion,
take one more chance, or
allow your soul to be seen?

What if you didn’t
give heed to your heart,
feed all those fears, or
walk boldly through that door?
~

You will develop in each season
to ripen wholly into your prime.
So what does it matter,
the things you did not do
in this blessed allotted time,
when the tour de force
is within every treasured moment
you cup your worthwhile life
inside the love of your divine hands
to kiss full on the mouth,
all its cherished
wonder.

*
*
The intention of this prose is not to point out what one didn't do with this gifted time, or what one accomplished, mastered, or completed…not even to focus on the idea of entering the uncertainty of a 'what-if' debate. For good reason, many refuse to squander over such matters. Yet, there are those still trapped in that burning question. So this is for you who find yourself anxious in life, wandering for your purpose or intention, scrambling to make it to the finish…
Be still for a moment. Trust life. Breathe in new possibility now and then. Exhale all your frustration with the unnecessary pressure to arrive in time.
You are already there…

~ Susan Frybort


Carry on….

https://youtu.be/hitU2jGC41o

if the stars were mine

I close my eyes as dreamscape falls gently down around me

Dream chaser, tenderly take my hand

carry me away in your passionate embrace

let’s dive deeply into the liquid rainbows

Dream catcher, pull me into your web of light

spilling me softly out into this sparkling milky way

keep daring to dream the impossible dreams

oh, sweet dreamer, dream sweetly

there are no limits in this dreamers world

the same moon shines brightly, dream lover to us all

the sands of time run ever dreaming into the winds of change

live like there’s no tomorrow

dance while the stars turn blue

love whether smiles or sorrow

dream like they’ll all come true

❤

Amy Lloyd

Last night as I was sleeping,
I dreamt—marvelous error!—
that a spring was breaking
out in my heart.
I said: Along which secret aqueduct,
Oh water, are you coming to me,
water of a new life
that I have never drunk?

 

Last night as I was sleeping,
I dreamt—marvelous error!—
that I had a beehive
here inside my heart.
And the golden bees
were making white combs
and sweet honey
from my old failures.

 

Last night as I was sleeping,
I dreamt—marvelous error!—
that a fiery sun was giving
light inside my heart.
It was fiery because I felt
warmth as from a hearth,
and sun because it gave light
and brought tears to my eyes.

 

Last night as I slept,
I dreamt—marvelous error!—
that it was God I had
here inside my heart.

 

❤

Last Night as I was Sleeping by Antonio Machado

>

>

if I could give you
every star that shines
in the clear
night sky
I would.
every wildflower
that blooms
I would.
every birdsong at dawn,
every radiant sunset,
every lover’s sigh,
I would.
instead I have
given you
my body,
my heart,
my love.
I would give
you more
if I could.

scott lockhart
austin texas 2017
find Scott Lockhart on Facebook or at his website
writer.artist.photographer

 

star and meme trackbacks found at pinterest.com / al513

shadow dancing

I am the darkness that is light

I am the shadow that is dancing

                                                  – Gaia Blooming

The angels you’ll have to wrestle with most often
are no strangers:
they’re your anger, fear, control, defensiveness,
your despair, blame, insecurity, avoidance.
You won’t get away without a fight.

They may also be God’s forgiveness,
the Beloved’s absolute acceptance,
God’s serenity in the face of your betrayal,
God’s accompaniment in your troubles.
You won’t accept them without a fight.

You’re not wrestling with what’s happening;
you’re wrestling with your feelings about it:
not the problem but its difficulty,
not the suffering but how you take it personally.
The angels are not your world, but your self.

So wrestle. Grab them firmly.
Feel their breath on your neck,
their body against yours,
the weight of their intent.
Let your sweat mingle.

Learn their moves.
They’re your sparring partner,
not out to destroy you
but to shove you into the face of God.

Who knew divine intimacy
could be so hard?

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

I said to Poetry: “I’m finished
with you.”
Having to almost die
before some weird light
comes creeping through
is no fun.
“No thank you, Creation,
no muse need apply.
I’m out for good times –
at the very least,
some painless convention.”

Poetry laid back
and played dead
until this morning.
I wasn’t sad or anything,
only restless.

Poetry said: “You remember
the desert, and how glad you were
that you have an eye
to see it with?* You remember
that, if ever so slightly?”
I said: “I didn’t hear that.
Besides, it’s five o’clock in the a.m.
I’m not getting up
in the dark
to talk to you.”

Poetry said: “But think about the time
you saw the moon
over that small canyon
that you liked so much better
than the grand one – and how suprised you were
that the moonlight was green
and you still had
one good eye
to see it with

Think of that!”

“I’ll join the church!” I said,
huffily, turning my face to the wall.
“I’ll learn how to pray again!”

“Let me ask you,” said Poetry.
“When you pray, what do you think
you’ll see?”

Poetry had me.

“There’s no paper
in this room,” I said.
“And that new pen I bought
makes a funny noise.”

“Bullshit,” said Poetry.
“Bullshit,” said I.

– Alice Walker

 

I bow to anyone who has the courage to stay with their doubt when the whole world is pathologising it, urging us to go ‘beyond’ doubt, calling it evidence of our ‘lack of evolution’.

I bow to anyone who has the nerve to hold fear close, when every guru and self-help teacher is judging us, shaming us, trying to lead us into some fearless state (a state that’s secretly at war with fear).

I bow to anyone who can be present with their anger, breathe into its burning core, allow it in, even when the mind is spinning old stories of ‘unsafe’ and ‘bad’ and ‘damaged’ and ‘unspiritual’.

I bow to anyone who can be fully present to their sorrow, even if it’s for the 573th time, even if everyone around them is telling them to ‘cheer up’ or ‘stop wallowing’ or ‘raise their vibration’.

– Jeff Foster

 

Blessed are those who refuse to listen

It takes time to empty your ears

of the spoken toxic intention

to hold your own sweet knowledge

truth for one

is not truth for all

❤

Blessed are those who refuse to listen

It takes strength to say no

to the path of least resistance

presented as the fastest route to get there

you can take any road

if you don’t care where you’re going

❤

Blessed be those who refuse to listen

It takes power to stay the course

to write your words

to speak your passion

to be loyal and true

to believe in what you believe in

beyond the set formulas of the mass

to allow for the unlimited possibles

when nothing is certain

anything is possible

………

and I say..

star light star bright

I wish I may I wish I might

Have this wish

I wish tonight

❤

Amy Lloyd

Jen Lemen @ Hopeful World

dazzle

 

everyday is a full gift by itself

the dazzle and glow of the small miracles compounding

mixed with the stuff of the ordinary and the bizarre

it’s what makes life so extraordinary

each & every day

❤

Amy Lloyd

I love the small history of places
history made by folks walking through their days
determined to not only survive
but leave something valuable
behind them for us

I love walking on paths and sidewalks
where fantastic, simple life things happen…

George Washington walked/rode/stayed here
The Amsted Slave Ship docked right there
Amelia Earhart wrote this letter here
Paul Revere rode his horse here
The Boston Tea Party took place on this tiny spot of harbor
Here is where the Battle of Bunker Hill started and
where the first local farm man lived
and died right on his own rocky patch of farmland
Here is the beginning of the Underground Railroad
Here is where the first frisbee was created
from students throwing empty pie pans at each other
I love singing Amazing Grace standing in a spot where, years before, stood Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
I love singing in the pulpit of Harvard Memorial Church
where the legacy of preaching makes me tremble as I stand
I love learning nuggets…
the Longfellow’s had a vineyard in Mount Adam’s
where they made champagne named ‘Golden Wedding’
which inspired Henry Wordsworth to write a poem naming Cincinnati
The Queen of the West

it’s all these small details making life deep and meaningful
we are just here to play our unique part
no one else can play it for us
the ones who come behind will get their own goosebumps
while walking over the latest layers of footprints
which now include ours
adding to these beautiful patterns
and keeping our songs of faith alive

❤

Amy Lloyd

what if I never see this spot again?

what if this is my last day to see this particular blend of beauty?

what if I never again feel the depths of the oh-so-perfect imperfection of who I am at this place in the world?

what if I never again have a conversation with these polka-dot-tailed seagulls?

never see these particular shades of blue and green/grey metallic ocean

reflected in this little piece of the sky

never again see this sand dotted with these aged-green-mossed-stoned-edges and these raggedy, fragile, wisp-clouds?

what if the sun doesn’t ever hit my eyes again with this same blinding glory-glare,

this playtime, fun-time, of winter sun or summer sun heat

mixed with hints of seasons upcoming?

can I drink enough in this very moment?

can I permanently record the glorious, salty, smell of this one ordinary, extraordinary, morning

into my eternal bank account of favorite things ever?

will I be present enough to this once in a lifetime experience of right-this-very minute-ness,

to hold it inside my bones for life?

can I absorb it into the very fabric of my dna,

so that it actually becomes me?

so that every future conversation

with all the grieving, broke-down, hearts;

all the rioting, joyous, hearts;

all the skipping.a.beat won-der-ing,

or sandbag.heavy wan-der-ing hearts;

in this world,

will be informed by this instant of exquisite soul beauty I hold.

will they be able to feel this exact moment

massaged into the broken hope of their lost wholeness?

will they feel the bubbles of it in the champagne of their happiness?

see the beginnings of the road home within their weary, dusty, blistered pilgrimage feet?

will I be able to allow it to glow,

flow,

sing

freely

to every child of God?

will I be able to remember the most important thing?

this light is the light of everything.

we are each God’s most beloved

❤

Amy Lloyd

evolution

The pain, the problem, the struggle,
the wound, the weakness, the “disability”—
don’t let it go until you have found the blessing.

The thing you hate:
your hate is a way of hanging on—
because it still has something for you,
a new birth it is trying to give you. 

The angel is usually not out there,
but within.
(Remember you’re not wrestling with tragedy,
you’re wrestling with God.
Though every loss is a lesson,
God does not assign pedagogical tragedy.)
The awful event, the terrible loss,
the insult or injustice you’ve suffered,
is not likely a blessing,
but there is one there.
Watch how you resist it,
and learn instead.
Don’t seek the fight; seek the blessing.
You can’t forget, move on, grow up,
you can’t get wise
until you have sought and gotten the blessing.

In that moment your suffering will re-name you
and walk away.

Let the crowd’s hunger be an opening for grace
and the loaves and fish will multiply.

Don’t let go
till you get the blessing.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

Joy Road

death birth

allowing giving

near far 

smiles tears

sorrow loss

sober drunk

truth lies

friend foe

alone connected

miles apart oh-so-close 

secrets dreams

walk run

climb fall

gentle tough

lists lust 

sassy sad

sunshine rain

silence sound

asking receiving

grieving deceiving

celebration consternation

creation destruction

real deal bs

to do to be

write on rock on

hard soft

chapter verse

scene bridge

someday somehow

yesterday tomorrow

remember forget

lost found

hiding seeking

arriving leaving

all nothing

hold on let go

forever never

always all ways

time no time

crescent full 

here now

there everywhere

joy road

all we hold

❤

Robin OK
http://laughndream.com/

 

Break your promise

to be perfect.

That is what all the gods

are waiting for.

Then they will come

and dance with you!

 ❤

Fred LaMotte

free will

As I was going up the stair

I met a man who wasn’t there!

He wasn’t there again today,

Oh how I wish he’d go away!

 

When I came home last night at three,

The man was waiting there for me

But when I looked around the hall,

I couldn’t see him there at all!

Go away, go away, don’t you come back any more!

Go away, go away, and please don’t slam the door…

________________________

William Hughes Mearns

Dear H.,

 I’m almost beside myself — inside a storm of mood swings, that came from nowhere — this beautiful day! Something is all wrong — but how, after almost two years, can it be so sudden? A nap after lunch with the room quiet, the fan barely a whisper — only by realizing you’re here this way was a sense of reprieve able to dawn. Was it a mistake to invite along his mother? Only if we really try and work at meaning what we say about love continuing will we stand a chance, against outlandish odds. He had to have been the world to us, but may never understand. There I go, the Atlas syndrome to add fuel. Be still, my heart. Somewhere, another has been through it, and in their eyes I may know. Everything from nine years ago is coming back — I have to think this was unavoidable. To think the heart never rests, and loves us more than we knew. With that, there should have been a blessing to carry forward decades, and it is the truth that it is, and it might still. If you were here, you would tell me to adore it, in that same way a golden tabernacle hides something inside, acting like a magnet for your thoughts, at center of the sanctuary, behind an altar perfect in its bareness.

 Truly, for now

   M.

 >

>

>

Miguel Escobar 2017

Woke up this morning after a bad bad night 

That beautiful day gone wrong 

So long

Drinkin coffee in the morning light

Nine years in I don’t belong

Long gone

Who’s gonna rescue me now

Who’s gonna save me from this cold, cold world

Who’s gonna give a damn

Who’s gonna hold me when the lights go down

Sat down this morning after a long hard flight

That beautiful song was done – 

no fun

Face in the mirror what a frightful sight

Making my feet wanna run

run run

Who’s gonna rescue me now

Who’s gonna save me from this hard, hard world

Who holds my heart in hand

Who’s gonna hold me when the lights go down

Oh, What a beautiful world

Oh, what a lovely emotion

What a fine lesson learned

Oh, what a cold hard world

Oh, what determined devotion 

What a love to be earned

Who’s gonna rescue me now

Who’s gonna save me from this wild, wild world

Who’s gonna take my hand

Who’s gonna hold me when the lights go down

❤

Amy Lloyd

Turning

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid” (John 14:27).

 

You are made to remember Me . . . and forget Me, too. I gave you a mind to think and be influenced by many things. You hear this and feel that. What you read and see and hear ─ the experiences you have in this world ─ all shape you, influence how you view the world and how you choose to live in it.

 

Your heart, too, is unique in how it is not wired to love Me, like a machine obeys a command. A machine does not feel. The heart I give you can love many things. And yes, you can forget me, get distracted by this world and pull away from Me, stop loving Me. And yes, it breaks my heart ─

and angers Me, too.

 

I both pursue you and surrender you when I made you. I knew you would come to know Me, follow Me. But I knew you would be pulled away from Me, too. And this is why I keep pulling you back.

 

Right here, right now, you are pursuing Me. You lean in and listen and seek and desire more than what is physically seen in this world.

 

Go deeper, child.

 

I chase you, and you can run away. But you can chase Me, too, and I will never turn away from you. I woo you. I desire you. But girl, when you forget me, I don’t stop desiring you. I don’t stop loving you. I do not do as the world does. I am not fickle and impatient. I am not distracted.

I know who I love.

 

You are here, now, not forgetting Me. You are here, now, letting yourself be pursued. You are here, now, surrendering . . . aren’t you?

 

Let me purify your heart so you know what you pursue and why you do it. Let me woo you with kindness and love so your head is cleared and your heart knows what love is.

 

I come from a pure place, knowing every piece of you. Just turn, a little bit, towards me.

 

I will help you turn even more.

 

❤

 

Loop

this

worry, trust,

sparrows, lillies, hairs on my head

flow, go

just trust – that is all

doors are for entering

Deep within every life, no matter how dull or ineffectual it may seem from the outside, there is something eternal happening. This is the secret way that change and possibility conspire with growth. John Henry Newman summed this up beautifully when he said, "To grow is to change and to be perfect is to have changed often." Change, therefore, need not be threatening; it can in fact bring our lives to perfection. Perfection is not cold completion. Neither is it avoidance of risk and danger in order to keep the soul pure or the conscience unclouded. When you are faithful to the risk and ambivalence of growth, you are engaging your life. The soul loves risk; it is only through the door of risk that growth can enter.
– John O'Donohue

all this…

This Riot by Rama Desai                                                    Rama Ink Blog

And still now every morning,

each momentary wish for healing

is a risk, a wakening call

to change, to choose,

to leave so much behind,

and be again made new.

  – Steve Garnaas Holmes

 

 

.. attributes of these Voids
.

the sound of all else leaving
as it’s created

— this void

an end first — the beginning as
it’s coming around

exclaim —

the most unlikely guess
is a teasing

we distinguish it from
null, in these
ways

forever imperfect
next to the pure desolation

of a finality we own

flight is seen

going in both directions

this breath means —
— along with the flowers

this is just
practicing

the artist —

— now her work’s hues
make
sense

she appears here out of nowhere

destroying so easily
the last
inching proximity

at another time

we’ll pick a path back

from one of her gorgeous titles

to where
we
resume these star struck
illusions

of nothingness

of them,
we stopped
here knowing we
needed to warn each other

then — were seen to have
capitulated

catapulted
to something
else

oh my Dear, yes..

,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,

miguel.J.escobar
(c) ‘17

this darkness has no answers

silence is just silence

fall, and the world laughs at you

cry cause you’re all alone

stand at this broken crossroad

step out to cross that road

break all your rules,

you’re golden

charm all those silver moons

Just fly

wont you fly

your wings will hold you

this sky is your home

fly

oh wont you fly

your wings will take you

anywhere you want to go

just fly

this morning holds the questions!

there in the tender light

rise, and the world claps for you

bow cause you made it home

stand at this broken moment

step out to claim your time

break all those ties that bind you

lick all your silver spoons

Just fly

wont you fly

your wings will hold you

this sky is your home

fly

oh wont you fly

your wings will take you

anywhere you want to go

just fly

❤

Amy Lloyd

soul biographies

 

void art from pinterst / al513

 

turn up the volume…rhapsody

Music to hear, why hear’st thou music sadly?
Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy.
Why lov’st thou that which thou receiv’st not gladly,
Or else receiv’st with pleasure thine annoy?
If the true concord of well-tuned sounds,
By unions married, do offend thine ear,
They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds
In singleness the parts that thou shouldst bear.
Mark how one string, sweet husband to another,
Strikes each in each by mutual ordering,
Resembling sire and child and happy mother,
Who all in one, one pleasing note do sing;
Whose speechless song, being many, seeming one,
Sings this to thee: “Thou single wilt prove none.”

__________________________
Sonnet 8 by William Shakespeare

 

If you could see me now

It’s amazing that Grace Potter can’t see the light

the dead brown leaf clinging to the budding branches

silent in the trees

Are you California dreaming on this cold day?

it might as well be spring

do you know what a difference a day makes?

keep the home fires burning

I’ll follow your ashes into outer space

 

the flock of seagulls are back in town

after running so far away

standing one legged on the dock of the bay

singing new songs to the bluest skies

you’ve never seen before

 

Knock knock

Who’s there??

James Taylor

Ready to sing you home by another way

maybe via cloud, or potion #, 9

or a cloud not yet named or numbered

More voluminous than cumulus

 

Hey wait, I was blinded by that light

for a momentous moment

Though, that’s just a poster cutout

Behind which Gogol Bordello is hiding

singing some fabulous advice

to start wearing purple…

They must have been sent by the purple people teenage diplomats,

or by my most purpley-friend, Juliette

 

don’t they all know my name is A-me?

know I only wear scarlet?

at least on Saturday nights

letters given, yet to be returned to sender

because of it’s a bit wrecked,

rusty, bent beyond hope of perfection and,

tho a lovely shade of blush,

I need a deeper shade of pale

Use some pretzel logic here, please.

 

I would be happy to walk the line

In those tracks of your tears

everything is beautiful, Kate told me so…

and she knows those things…

 

the very thought of you

is more than this:

Joe Cocker is still singing

you are so beautiful to me

why can’t you just turn around

the spin doctors don’t need you

but I do

I really do

maybe we’ll find it,

that rainbow connection

over where the bluebirds

keep flying high

 

it’s countdown to ecstasy

Us, in that burning ring,
until we catch fire to the rain

 

All we need is love

So just love me tender

how very sweet it is

how very very sweet it is

to be loved by you

❤

🎶 ” I really don’t know Clouds.. at All ” 🎶 by Amy Lloyd

There really is something clever about everyone…

like the way you hold your knife

and that smile you flash could be genius…

or my achilles heel…

I need more bourbon sauce for my bread pudding, please,

though it could be french toast casserole,

if you bring me maple syrup.

how do I turn over in the night without hurting myself?

how do I lock the door? [title of that dream I had]

You’re working late…

Something about the future…

I’m hard to impress

Math was never my favorite subject

510 can be a tall number to climb over

(or a bitter pill to swallow)

Why won’t you just get off of my back?

That’s your circus

I am obviously the monkey in your soul

I changed the blog post late today

Maybe it was the new strawberry jam lip butter

making me, at least for this brief moment,

feel so free and independent

❤

Amy Lloyd

photos found at pinterest / al513