In Need of Water

March 30, 2023 becomingandbeholdingLeave a comment

Two days ago the sun was shining so

I bought myself some sunflowers.

Yesterday it rained

so I allowed the tears to form and flow.

Today I rise in darkness

hoping for the light to show up.

Every day gives me the chance

to use what is given.

When the drain of routine threatens to pull me down,

it helps to look around,

to check the weather of what is actually here.

The sunflowers need water so I help them –

in the helping, I notice am refreshed, too.

Leaning now with the flowers

toward the light,

I understand again the lift of kindness

and the necessity of attention to

the life that is given.

The Places Where I Recognize Myself

July 23, 2022July 23, 2022 becomingandbeholding2 Comments

There are moments when

I catch glimpses myself –

where I picture the kind of woman

I am becoming though

she sometimes feels far away.

I will be in a yoga class and

feel in my body a sense of home on the mat.

“Yes, here,” will be whispered into my heart.

I will stay even if uncomfortable.

I may be holding the hand of another

while they are dying and

listening to their softening voice

while witnessing their growing transparency.

I offer my humanity and breath while I take them in.

I stay.

Yes, here.

Once I was at the beach walking.

The sea spoke to me.

“You belong. Come here often. No need to call ahead.”

I found my home in the world

while listening to the music of the surf.

Now I make time for my toes to be cradled by sand.

My heart, soothed by sea songs

in the tempo of wholeness and belonging.

I might be peeling carrots and

learning to cook tofu.

I have learned the value of green things.

“This is how to nourish. Eat these. Set this table.”

My body thanks me.

In the neighborhood, I walk

in the early morning by myself,

saying hello to the trees and bunnies.

It is an active solitude

where I converse with God.

Seeking guidance for my many steps,

I maintain my strength of body.

This is how I move forward into a new day.

Yes, this is me.

Then the words…

They call to me.

We are friends most of the time.

Metaphors and beauty, insights –

beckon me to the page.

Another tether to my soul formed.

Writing is an intimate action which

enables me, lifts me, soothes me.

Inspiration has become a cherished friend.

Absolutely. This is me.

I am acquainted with grief and pain.

My heart has been broken many times.

My body has failed me.

I have endured,

grown.

My wounded places have

transformed into fertile places.

I cultivate this inner garden of earned wisdom

by extending myself to others who similarly suffer,

trip, and find themselves on holy ground.

Yes. Me.

And finally, I can envision her…

a graceful, beautiful and wise woman

with silky silver hair and a sparkle in her eyes.

She is wrinkled in some places –

Soft in others.

This soul has a glow about her

which lights up a room with love and grace.

She is my north star.

Each day I make my way to her.

Moment by moment she is created

through my open present heart

and daily choices.

I allow her to emerge.

Poem · Poetry

A Proper Sorting and Tossing

June 11, 2022June 11, 2022 becomingandbeholdingLeave a comment

I take it in,

all the goodness

I can wrap myself around.

I take it in,

and I hold it dear.

I let it crowd and smother

the junk that remains

from all past hurts and loss.

I push these out and out.

There is no time for clinging to old hurts.

There is only room

for the good things.

So I sweep and dust,

sort and toss.

I keep a tidy home

in this heart of mine.

No matter the weather outside,

despite all storms and struggle

which rattle the windows,

no matter any darkness looming,

nothing is glued to me

but that which nurtures and lightens.

Whatever is not worth keeping

passes through me

as if through a window.

Of course I see it as it passes…

I do notice the unpleasant winds

and the damage they can produce –

but I don’t let them blow me over.

There is plenty else to own,

to cherish,

to foster.

These things are knit to the bone

so I can remain steady on my feet.

Growing older grants this

wisdom of discernment.

I finally know

how to welcome the light that shows up –

even if it is just a flicker.

This is what I take in and cradle with tenderness.

This is how I shine from within

and build resilience.

Examine everything carefully; hold fast to that which is good.

1 Thessalonians 5: 21

I realize there’s something incredibly honest about trees in winter, how they’re experts at letting things go.
Jeffrey McDaniel

Photo by SHVETS production on Pexels.com

Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

On The Wing of The Breath

April 9, 2022 becomingandbeholding3 Comments

Create some wind.

No matter what swirls around you,

add some air to it.

Whether it is a sigh

or a deep gulp,

get it going.

Don’t get caught in the holding of your inner breezes.

This only creates pain…

Life is born in and through us

and it is only on the wing of our precious breath

that we can unfold and float

among the mountains and valleys.

This is what breathing is –

working with life.

And working with life,

is why we are here.

Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

In The Right Light

February 13, 2022 becomingandbeholding6 Comments

In the right light,

the morning greets me

with the kind of hope needed

to float joyfully into the day.

I start with a smile

lit from within.

In the right light,

my elderly cat appears like a

kitten resting after deep play.

As the rays of sunshine he bathes in

shimmer across his gray coat,

they seem to hide how frail

he really is.

In the right light,

the emerging silver threads

on my head

bring a sparkle to my deep blue eyes,

revealing the gift

of my earned evolution

and the power of being seen.

In the right light,

all life is art –

and all its shades,

all its colors, shapes, and textures,

all the broken and joined lines,

seem to form words –

the ones that matter.

They speak louder to me

these days.

In the right light,

the trail ahead appears

clear and illuminated

for the distance.

It’s never ending

but in the good way –

the way that comforts.

The invitation to proceed

feels safe and important.

In the right light,

the wounded places within

become fertile ground

which, when thoughtfully nurtured,

produce fresh verdant growth

that is quite beautiful.

Noticing this deepens

my breathing and presence

in my life.

In the right light,

the dim of dusk

brings a glow

which kisses everything.

The quality of this light

forms speech which calls to me…

“Come on home, Sweet One. You have done well.

It is time to rest now. Tomorrow we begin again together.”

The light can change everything. — Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com

If light is in your heart, you will find your way home.
Rumi

Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Look For Them

August 26, 2020May 28, 2021 becomingandbeholding3 Comments

You can see them on the periphery

or sometimes in small groups.

Often they are alone,

sitting comfortably and quietly observing.

These are the wise ones.

They may be bent by the years

and a little rough around the edges.

They may move slowly

and with care…

for they have learned to honor the limits.

When in their presence,

look deeply.

Meet their eyes with yours.

You will be stunned by the light of life

which sparkles with the kind of glow

that can only be fashioned over time.

Allow yourself to soak up its wisdom.

Take the time.

Don’t miss this connection.

Instead, know this:

these are the ones to know –

for they long to sing their song for you,

to tell the story.

Life has finally made them real.

If you slow down enough

to take a seat,

you will discover gold.

“Once you are real you cannot be ugly except to those who don’t understand.” —Velveteen Rabbit

Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Why I Love the Morning

August 16, 2020March 30, 2021 becomingandbeholdingLeave a comment

It’s the quiet…

the ease of peace

that permeates –

just as the light gently travels

through the trees

and into my soul.

It’s the anticipation…

of yet another chance

for lessons to take root –

and new directions

to unfold.

It’s the trust…

that all the days past

have been worth any pain,

and there are no regrets

which can darken this new light.

It’s the love…

that gratitude which shimmers

and brightens my vision

to just how blessed it is

to have this life,

this very day.

I am but a bird singing,

a flower opening,

a cat purring,

and a baby giggling.

Mornings have this affect on me.

They elate.

This being human is a guest house. Every morning a new arrival. Welcome and entertain them all! – Rumi

Photo by Kaboompics .com from Pexels

Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

This Heart

August 2, 2020March 30, 2021 becomingandbeholding3 Comments

This heart is a strong muscle.

It never disappoints.

When put to work,

there is always strength,

there is always strength.

This heart is a deep well.

When the bucket is lowered

and dips into its depths,

there is always refreshment,

there is always refreshment.

This heart is a vista.

When the journey tires,

I can sit and rest.

I see it all.

There is always a vision,

there is always a vision.

This heart is a blanket.

When the chill arrives,

I reach for warmth.

There is always an embrace,

there is always an embrace.

This heart is home.

When the moments

add up to years,

I can look back and within.

There is always love,

there is always love.

Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Climb In

June 28, 2020June 6, 2021 becomingandbeholding4 Comments

Come float with me, dear one.

Climb into my boat.

I will grab your hand

and lift you in.

We can ride this out together.

The current will take us in its way

but we can see a new shore

over there.

If we work together,

we can point the boat

and use our muscles

to reach that new

and beautiful land.

The journey may be hard –

but inch by inch,

wave by wave,

we will make it.

So, climb in.

The invitation is clear.

Together we are safe.

We can make it

because we are strong.

Float with me.

Let’s rise above the current.

Don’t be one of those who won’t risk the ocean. Load the ship and set out. – Rumi

Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

I Miss Your Face

May 19, 2020May 19, 2020 becomingandbeholding10 Comments

At least I can see your eyes –

even though they look sad and tired.

Your shoulders, too, are not the same.

They are rounded.

Perhaps an unnamed shame is weighing you down…

or maybe grief.

There is good reason for grief.

You stand at an awkward distance

as if a cloud of contagion was

surrounding me

like Pig Pen’s dust.

I feel embarrassed somehow

by the invisible cloud.

I mean you no harm, of course.

Your eyes dodge mine, anyway.

The disconnect between us,

is strange –

its wordless noise brings

a haunting isolation.

The masks have swallowed our voices.

I hope one day to see your smile…

Your dependable dimples

could always brighten my day.

But now all I see is the barrier

we all have to wear.

I miss your face.

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