When Life is Hard

March 24, 2019 becomingandbeholding1 Comment

When life is hard,

and each day a challenge,

look for the soft places

beneath and below.

Uncover what is there

and be comforted.

When each day is an effort,

relax your muscles

and decide on purpose

to seek what frees.

Do more of that.

When the weight on your shoulders

is slowing you down,

go slow.

It is okay to rest.

Share your load and

ask for help.

Listen to the whispers of God –

for you are being directed to learn

something important.

Perhaps this is the time you finally understand that

joy can be found

in the pain

when you change your thinking.

Everyone gets lessons along the way…

Now is your time

to blossom in winter.

So, take comfort in the crocus

which perseveres through

hard frozen ground

to rise and shine,

transcending into Spring.

For you are the crocus.

Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

A Breath That is Free

March 9, 2019 becomingandbeholding3 Comments

If our moments are forgotten,

did we really live them?

If our thoughts are in charge,

are we present at all?

If our breath is held,

is it really a breath?

I pause with these questions

and my ears open to the hum of my home,

and the song of the birds outside.

My vision is sparked by

the morning light filtering through the trees.

The glow is beautiful.

I notice that as I write,

my posture is hunched,

and I am tight in all the usual places.

I release the usual.

Relaxing and deepening awareness

of my breath,

and my gratitude for it all,

I begin again.

I am present and I live this moment.

Grace and peace find me

in the movement of my breath.

I am ready for the gift of another day.

Uncategorized

Shift!

March 7, 2019 becomingandbeholding2 Comments

Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Snow on Trees

March 3, 2019March 3, 2019 becomingandbeholding2 Comments

Don’t despair the soul season

when all the green is gone

and you feel darkened

and bare.

These are the times when

you stand alone, while

everyone looks past you

to escape to the horizon beyond.

You feel planted in place

with nowhere to grow, and

the present brittleness

makes you snap easily.

Though unpleasant and cold –

while in this raw nakedness,

please be reminded that

you are in a good position.

You are in the right place –

the proper season.

You are ripe for grace.

A season of cold and dark

is a gift like no other.

For when the white glow arrives,

softly blanketing and

offering beauty and peace –

healing is gifted.

You are born again with the

verdant seeds needed

to bloom again

and commune with others.

Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Enough Already

February 25, 2019February 25, 2019 becomingandbeholding2 Comments

Don’t worry about the direction

ahead, or the matters of the day.

Simply place your hand

on your own heart

and feel the love there – love

that was given long ago

that you may have forgotten.

Don’t be the person who

allows busyness to run

over your life, squashing it

with good intentions, and

all that learned stupidness which

pulls us away from

this preciousness given.

Remember those moments

when God has broken through –

those glimpses when you

knew beyond a doubt that

you are made of the same stuff

as the flowers and trees, and

forever is possible – that

Love is You, and

You are Love.

Let yourself glow, please.

For those who do, are

born in true freedom.

For in stepping aside from

the pettiness of all our

misdirected ways, we can

float like a feather

on the breath of God.

Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

This says it all!

February 18, 2019 becomingandbeholding1 Comment

Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Nurture

February 17, 2019 becomingandbeholding2 Comments

You are but a drooping plant

with a bowed-browned bloom.

Your light is not reflecting –

the shadows grow.

Grief visible like this

is more easily watered.

It calls out for nurturance.

When hidden,

it festers

and roots into every pore,

making us sick –

stealing the colors.

This is the usual way…

for we are all good at facades

and hiding.

We smile brightly,

despite the pained cracks within.

Where does it hurt, my friend?

Show me the place

and tell me the story.

Dig out the pain from

your hardened crusts – fashionably covered.

Lift your voice and let the cry be born.

Let me know what is needed.

Take the covers off

and allow the hurt to move you

to a new place of freedom.

All is well, and

I am here with you.

You belong.