Finding Your Own Sacred Heart
Poems From The Porch
A reflecting pool under the water oak
is shimmering in the wind,
and the magical chimes are heartily singing
in response to the chill of the day.
It is their reminder that
life is percolating
even within the winter grey.
Gusts of invisible movement are engaging the trees,
and they are releasing their withered leaves in response,
letting go of that which no longer serves them.
Over my shoulder I see the spritely clover
whose lavender blossoms are contracting against the wind.
It makes me wonder if times of closing
are really necessary,
if all these boundaries we set
are more like walls put up to
defend our tender self-esteem
and tenacious pride.
I don’t know the answer,
but I feel the invitation to open and receive life
moment by moment,
gift upon gift,
pain upon pain,
