We are meeting each other like wheat leaves touch the rich blue sky in Summer. The water rushes to the sandy shore to return to oneness. As one redwood tree is to a log, we are in essence, shared.
Ligare: to connect, the latin derivation of the word religion
comes from this verb meaning to bind, and the re- ligare, in essence, to connect again
We are two because we are meeting each other, to return to oneness where we were once separate. As…
When you look at a rose. Perfect and pruned. With lips tipped to the sky, and above all composed. You think, don’t, don’t do anything at all. Stay perfect. Don’t move, don’t move anything at all.
Awareness spreads out, elongating through time. There is a stretch of endless looking, knowing this, becoming my name.
Darkness teaches us light. Awareness deepens shining brighter. There was one unopened door.
The water floods outwards, in a loving reach. The waters become shallow and the pace slows. If I go beyond my natural path, my water dries out. If I do too little, the river narrows, and the focus is strong and volatile.
Friendship is when rivers join, and the rocks between us diminish. Sharing this presence, free of thought is our joy.
Walking down the street, I am already familiar with life. With trust, the rocks move away as I let go. Suddenly, there are no strangers, as I let thoughts go at all…
A large pool of water forms between you and your river when there is a block. This is called a dam. In this lake, is the space between energy and expression. The still water can perfectly reflect the trees and mountains around it, but it is not moving. This is the picture of potential — a beautiful aqua water…
The mind is a river. The river flows from heart, to mind, to lips. Expressing our essential joy. The mind is a vulnerable place. The waters of our love become prey to rocks. Rocks of thought.
Someone sits at the edge of our river. One may call it, ego, the voice of fear, or simply my…
We hiked up the grey mountain. Not but a weed amongst the rocks. Together we hummed and bantered our way upward. A chipper brown squirrel, and a stubbed toe kept one or two of the gaggle behind. One black evening, the flock rested like graceful geese. I rose early to walk alone, in search of a…