The earth is waking up. The ground softens And looks more bright. Can I soften too? Each day is a gift. This body, this life. It’s more than just to merely survive. The season, The challenges Come and go. This body, Like this earth, Is a gift. It provides more than The instruments to just Survive and get by. As the ground softens, The many shades of green Surround my senses. In delight and insight, Growth, Rebirth. I can gift myself With that same delight.
Tag: earth
In the Whole Scheme of the Cosmos
As we head toward the Equinox, The sun greets me a little later each passing day. I imagine the sun trying to peek over the horizon. The earth spins and rotates And has its own cycles and rhythms. We try to make sense of it all And plan our lives around the earth. It takes a whole year for the earth to cycle the sun. So, on this day, the earth was exactly on this particular orbit. That’s how the planets and stars align At those rare times that astronomers keep track of. There’s always something going on in the sky, Even the minute. It’s all fascinating And often goes unnoticed. When we’re so self-absorbed in our own lives, Surviving, working, Our issues and problems feel so monumental. But when you look up at the sky, Those issues and problems somehow feel smaller In the whole scheme of the cosmos.
Outside the Door
The soft earth awakens. Fresh dewdrops cling To the blades of grass, To my picnic table, To the windows of my car. Outside the Door The sun has begun Its ascent above the skyline. And its rays begin To splay upon the horizon. In the beginning, Where did man lie down his head each night? Did the morning dew greet him Each sunrise as he awoke? Did he sleep under the stars, In the open air, Or did he seek shelter most nights? The earth is soft and lush. Outside the Door The heat of the summer Has already begun to take ahold. The breeze is my reprieve. The birds are my companion. As we share a moment In the early dawn Before the sunrays get too bright And I, too, must take shelter From the blazing sun.
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.
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.
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.
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
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
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.