Connection

The Sand

I don’t often think of the sand unless I’m at the beach
And I dig my feet and toes into the fine warm grains.
If I look close enough, each grain is not uniform.
There are clear shiny pieces of tiny rocks,
Some darker than others, that make up the whole.

The tide goes in and out
Crashing a million times onto the shore.
The sand can mold and make a temporary shape
Before the waves bear down
And claim it back into the earth
Back into the sea.

The sand, made of earth, can handle the force
And alchemize the pressure
Over and over again
To make smoother, finer grains of rock
That I can scoop and grasp in my hand
Before I let it slip through my fingers.

My feet leave their imprint
On the damp cool sand.
Each individual toe down to the heel.
I see a bird’s talons imprinted
Beside some dog paw prints of varying shapes and sizes
Evidence of who also enjoyed this spot of earth.

The sun heats and beats onto the sand.
It is bleach white from the constant rays.
But if I look closely,
I see the individually expressed grains
That together make up the whole.

The sand spreads out to the horizon
As it bumps up against the shore
Jutting up to sand dunes and tall grasses.
Sea shrubbery and florals come into view.

I dip my toes into the cool waters
And run back to my spot in the sand.
I relax while the wet clumps become dry
And loose once again.
It’s a never-ending dance.


Connection

The Spring Crocus

The wild darling on the cusp of spring
The crocus has found its way to the surface
Having traveled over and over
In the same track as its predecessors.

The cold earth has found a softness,
An opening.
And the lush green breathes into me.
The fragileness of new life.

The sun breathes out energy.
The seedlings desperately alchemize
And rapidly transforms.

Their ripe green petals mimicking grass
Kiss and pepper the earth.
I marvel at the emerald blades
That try to camouflage into the lawn.

They are hardy and make the perennial trip.
They wake me from my winter slumber
And remind me, even in the bitter harshness
of cold and darkness,
This too shall pass.

And my heart leaps to join the beauty,
To wear green and lie in the grass
Warm to the touch from the golden sun.

I touch the delicate petals
And thank them for this yearly gentle reminder.
A smile forms on my face.

The mourning doves have returned this year.
I wonder if the young couple will find 
a more hardier, sturdier nesting place.

Nature is the greatest teacher.

Connection

Student

I am a student of the Earth.
I am in awe of her glory
and ever-changing nature.

The Earth provides
Sustenance, life, beauty.
There’s always an opportunity
to tune in and learn.

I watch the outside world
from my window
Warm and cozy indoors.
Protected from the bitter cold
Freezing rain and icy terrain.

I know intuitively 
That the snow will eventually melt
Like the ice caps on the mountains.
This too shall pass.

I am in tune to her nature.
I live and breathe the lessons.
I study her patterns 
and accept what is out of my control.

My hands cup my warm mug of tea.
I take a sip.
The Earth is now in my cup.
In the water, the plants, and herbs.
I internalize her spirit
and continue to be
The ever-faithful pupil.
Connection

I open the window of my heart

I accept the ever changing season.
The pendulum swings
From extreme heat to bitter cold.

I accept that among the cosmos 
The entire planet is smaller than
The dot in the letter i

I matter.  I belong here.
I walk the earth gently.
I smile upon those I greet
On this shared path.

I accept that this moment
is fleeting.
It always is.
And then the next.

I allow myself to fully accept
that which is out of my control.
I cannot make the icy wind chill go away
Nor stop the tide from crashing onto the shore.

And since the earth is but a dot,
My comings and goings hardly go noticed
And I accept that too.

My very existence means the world
To my family and friends
And that I do not take for granted.

When I feel surrounded by love
For myself and others
I open the window of my heart
And let love in.

Inspired by:
“Close your eyes and open the window of your heart.
Only when you have no more need for acceptance
will everything you do be accepted.” RUMI
self-care

I come from there

I come from there.
Far over the edge
where the sky meets the earth.
The trees line the horizon
With never ending evergreen.

I come from there.
The warm grass
with little crawling insects.
A green soft blanket underfoot.

I come from there.
Where salty air cools my skin
and fills my lungs with care.

I come from there.
Far over the edge
where the sea spreads out
to a flat horizon
whose edges knows no bounds.

I come from there
Where rain melds
and becomes my tears
tears of joy
tears of sorrow
nourishment and sustenance.
I feel and appreciate it all.

I come from there.
Where home greets me
at the door.
A warm embrace.
A quick burst of chatter about the day.
We are welcome.
We are loved.
We belong
And call this our forever home.

I come from there.
The lovers embrace.
The calm after the storm.
The seed of potential.
The green light of love.
The sparkling emerald of my heart.
I come from there.

I just know in my bones.
There was no lesson.
No guidebook or post
to mark my path.

The landscape was laid out before me. 
Welcomed me
with a warm embrace.
Sunshine on my face.
Sustenance to survive.
Laughter, joy and connection
to make it all worthwhile.
Mine all mine.
My story.
My experience.
My joy and sorrow.
I come from there.

The edge.
The sea.
The air.
The sky.
The grass.
The rain.
And I am welcomed
home to mother earth
greeted by a new day
and embraced by the moon each night

I come from there.
The loving world
and welcomed embrace
self-care

The wild plum tree

The wild plum tree grew from the earth’s roots 
stretching its branches towards the sky 
towards the sun. 

To taste the fresh ripe flesh was a treasure to behold. 
The branches swayed to and fro like a rocking pirate ship. 
It does not nor can it evade the storms. 
Its very foundation depends on it being rooted. 

So the tree does what the tree does 
and the plum is the perfect expression of the tree. 
Fruit, a gift for you and me. 

I will taste the ripe fruit with unabashed pleasure and joy. 
Revel in its juice and as it drips in my hand 
and through my fingers. 
A pure delight. 

I thank the tree, the sun, the rain as I digest and swallow 
the whole earth in this little plum.