Tag: love
-
Fear of Flying
My biggest fear is not being heardfluttering aroundbuilding nests with twigs I found from this ground Myselfsinging loudlysinging proudlylike the birds we take for grantedpart of the furniture of this worldwe barely notice anymorethe miracle, the magic, the musicof flying. I lied: my biggest fear is flyingSoaring through the skyshining like silk shimmering in the…
-
A Name for All of it.
I amI am all of existencefluttering, frolicking, finding rest in this freedomof body, of spaceof connection to placeI am I amnowhere else but hereThere are no ifs and butsbecause I amthe only place I could ever bein your arms, my arms,rocked gently in cradle by Land and by SeaI amnowhere else but here. I amfalling…
-
United and Tied: A Tribute to Saint Francis
You who lives and breathes in the heartbeat of a tired horse, in the flutter of a black-throated finch and in the deep dark eyes of a Tasmanian Devil. You who has no bounds, who neither lives far away and high above nor hidden in the complexities and competition of intellect and cognition. You who…
-
Time Deconstructed
In the beginningIt was wilda whimsical dance like water waltzing in the wind we were surrounded by this warm liquid, whirling in the wombWe were blind, deaf and dumbnot wholly ourselves and not wholly our mom’s. we were but whispers of possibilitynot yet penetrated, permeatednot yet fabricated. We were still dust of the earthWaitingto be…
-
Emerge
All will emerge they say… Who are they anyway?Those mystics, philosophers, musicians and artistswho wonder and dream and sit still on grass planes… All will emerge If I just sit as stilland watch the world flutter by If onlyIsathere. All will emerge If I let myself join in this fluttering symphonyand remain free within meLike…
-
To Believe
You see this landthis place with weeds and dandelions, of earthworms, of beetles, of stones, moss and seeds?This is what we are meant to believe. Not something with our minds to grasp, to calculate in maths, or with moppy music to memorizebut something with our musclesthe memory of movements etched into our membranesour fingers and…
-
Forget
We forget Too often how beloved we are. Like a mother chid connection. Like the womb we are born from. We are knit seamlessly by beloved energy, eroding our hatred, our fear and our dualities of destructive ideas of difference. Don’t forget The yarn, the needle, the wrinkly delicate hands born from another woman’s bosom…
-
Monday morning and dead poets.
Arriving. Coming to consciousness in the crisp, new airthat isMonday. No one seems to care or wants to wake up to the conscious absurdity of six o’clock mornings and business-like conformity. Is this the sum total of our lives? Or can we step outside the rat race before our soul dies? Or do we become…
-
What if?
So many wasted years, learning to use, control the brain, mold it, bend it, brainwash, praise and strain it. To work and work it, hit it against the wall until the obstacle breaks, Brute strength. The coldness of its cement, ‘crisp and clear’ they say,but it led my spirit into fear. Fear of my heart…
-
Bow down, sow here
(A response to Galatians 6: 1-17) Bend down lower, right down to your knees, feel the ground, the dirt, the worms, the matter of you and me. See how it holds magic and mystery as it grows and produces, see how the brown and the wet is the earth’s golden juices. You could almost drink…
by Rev Alisha 