Morning Coffee

June 24, 2018June 30, 2018 becomingandbeholding4 Comments

That first brewed cup,

its aroma filling the kitchen,

its warmth on the mug

as my hand hugs it –

well, it soothes my soul.

I am like a cat

looking for a lap –

the ritual invites

rest and reflection –

a feeling of peace which

connects me

to all that matters.

The silence of the morning

reminds me to

quiet my waking mind

and allow for inspiration

to visit me.

She whispers into my soul.

Sipping my coffee,

engaging with words of wisdom –

words that find me

from the writings of others, or

the ones rising up within me –

it is a morning dance

that brings me joy.

We need touch points

like this.

We are like spinning tops

without them,

turning mindlessly, and

missing opportunities

to stop and notice.

The work of the soul,

our experience of Love,

requires these pauses.

Therefore, fret not your routines.

They are roots that

hold you in place –

or scenic spots

along your journey –

they allow for a more expansive view.

I pour myself a second cup,

Feeling the ground below me –

connecting my heart

to what expands before me.

It opens like an eager flower.

I behold the blessing

of another day.

In But Not Of

April 6, 2018 becomingandbeholding1 Comment

I belong to God.

The fabric of my being is

knitted with the golden threads

of love and divine insight.

The roots of my tree reach

to the depths of all there is.

The heart of my heart

is God’s heart –

open wide with compassion and pain

brave enough to heal

the brokenness within and beyond me.

I am a wave on the shore,

connected to the ocean of God’s Love

and presence,

washing gently on the world but

separate from its shores.

I reflect both the sun and moon,

inviting a way out

of the darkness –

simply by shining.

This is my true nature.

When I find myself dragged into

pain and drama,

the pull of ego and interaction,

I remember who I am

and I am lifted up

and out.

True freedom and peace arrive,

and I am whole.

Poem · Poetry

Pure Presence

March 25, 2018March 28, 2018 becomingandbeholding3 Comments

You look at me with eyes of love

and complete attention.

You gracefully place your body

next to mine,

molding into me

for complete contact.

There is no space between us –

only pure presence.

As you relax and soften,

so do I.

Your purr

motors my heart to joy.

Your headbutts

nudge me firmly to awaken

to the affection in this moment.

Your eyes,

your eyes…

invite me to deepen

and embrace the music

hidden in my heart.

You bring God to me

and I am blessed.

I love you for that.

Eventually, you move away

to what is next for you.

Your work is done.

Poem · Poetry

Your Whispers Heal My Soul

March 7, 2018March 7, 2018 becomingandbeholdingLeave a comment

Slow down.

Take it easy.

Listen.

You are trying too hard.

Open your eyes – notice.

Relax and breathe.

Trust and receive.

Allow me to help.

Get out of the way.

Be kind to yourself.

Don’t worry!

I’ve got this;

I’ve got you.

Freedom is yours.

Choose it!

This is a new day.

I love you completely.

Blossom with joy.

Be Love.

I have shown you how.

Remember me.

We are One.

Poem · Poetry

All Is Well

March 2, 2018March 2, 2018 becomingandbeholdingLeave a comment

How I wonder at

the many ways of getting it wrong –

the things that pull us away,

derail and distract us from

the truth of who we are

and how we were made

from the beginning.

Life continues to instruct –

through discomfort and pain.

It seems the most effective tool

to bring us to the necessary surrender.

I am not a fan of the process –

the reshaping and chiseling away…

but the revelations that come

reassure in ways

unmeasurable.

I yield to the master craftsman,

offering myself up for true fashioning,

despite the necessary struggles,

that the me that has always been

can be seen –

and true freedom,

finally mine.

Poem · Poetry

The Poems

February 17, 2018March 8, 2018 becomingandbeholdingLeave a comment

You arrive as whispers

calling sweetly in my ear,

causing me to pause and ponder –

leading me forward.

It is like the dawning of hunger

when, no matter what I am doing,

I can think of nothing else.

The urgency must be addressed.

Words must be shaped,

voiced –

labored over and delivered.

Inspiration has called to me.

Each time she visits,

I come alive a little more.

I am born

again and again –

in a blanket of words.

Why me?

I sometimes wonder…

but I open to her, anyway –

and learn to surrender again

to her message

and to what is real.

The whole dance we do

creates a hunger

that builds.

I want more.

In the meantime,

I live the poems I have.

I hold them close to me –

with pregnant anticipation,

I wait for the others.

Poem · Poetry

Be a Branch

February 17, 2018February 17, 2018 becomingandbeholding1 Comment

You come to me with searching eyes,

your shoulders slumped,

your breathing shallow.

“I need help,” you say.

I open my arms

and reach for you,

taking you into the Love,

ever-present.

Comfort flowers.

An elderly woman drops her grocery bag

and oranges and potatoes scatter

all over the road –

I run to her.

My hands get busy gathering her food.

Our eyes connect and

together we laugh.

There is no problem, anymore.

We are connected.

Everyday, situations show up

to wake us up to

who we are

and why we are here.

Most of the time,

we don’t notice.

We are too busy with ourselves,

living as if

we are on our own.

We forget that God needs us

in order to be seen,

to be realized –

and we need God.

“I am the vine.

You are the branches.”

The instruction is given:

We are deeply connected to God

and when we extend ourselves

in Love,

life blossoms as it should –

and God is at work

with us.

Nothing else makes more sense

or is as beautiful.

Be a branch.

Poem · Poetry

Long Story Short

February 10, 2018February 11, 2018 becomingandbeholding1 Comment

Loving, but imperfect parents

unwittingly teach the young girl

the wrong lesson

about who she is

and what she can do.

Years pass,

the little girl grows up

with some success,

but with the wrong idea

now settled deep within –

still unknown to her,

dictating her experiences.

Suffering comes.

Suffering goes,

Suffering comes again.

The unhappy pattern

is set in place.

One beautiful day,

an opening begins.

Light and Truth show up –

along with Love and Grace –

and the little girl,

now a grown woman,

blossoms.

Healing arrives,

as insights dawn

over time.

Life begins to unfold ever more

beautifully.

Now the woman understands

who she is,

and can see what life is all about.

Gratitude opens her heart.

She understands her purpose

and she begins

to let go of the old

and allow herself

to heal

and to glow,

knowing that Love and God

are One

and woven into her.

She learns in her healing,

to get out of her own way,

and share this GodLove –

to use her new-found voice

and be Present for others,

and all is well.

She now dwells

in the land of Grace.

Nothing is a problem anymore

and Joy abounds.

The woman welcomes the whispers of Inspiration

and learns Trust.

Freedom arrives

and pain is but a memory.

She lived happily ever after

with GodLove as her guide.

Blessed be!

Poem · Poetry

Blank Page

December 11, 2017December 18, 2017 becomingandbeholding5 Comments

Facing a blank page

waiting for inspiration

is akin to the early morning hours –

when no one else is up,

not even the sun.

Its newness and freshness

has a daunting yet hopeful quality.

I simply love the mornings.

And now I am learning to love

the empty page.

Just like each day,

there are times

when I falter,

filling the white space with nonsense

and disappointing myself.

But when creativity shows up,

when I am engaged in the flow

of divine connection,

nothing else matters.

I have found Presence

once again.

If only each moment

could be like this!

And then I remember,

yes.

Each moment can.

I just need to stay awake

and get out of my own way.

Poem · Poetry

Winter Chill

December 10, 2017 becomingandbeholding2 Comments

As I crunch through

the remnants of the first snow fall,

careful to go slow

and not to slip –

As I feel the cold air

swallow me,

making me miserable inside –

the song of complaint

rises

raw and uncensored:

“I hate winter!”

Every ounce of my being

resists the cold.

Then a chuckle

rises within me

and passes over the

passionate resistance energy

consuming me.

I smile at my hubris

thinking I can resist weather

of all things.

And then I realize –

It is ALL weather.