When the Poems Do Not Arrive

April 29, 2019 becomingandbeholding4 Comments

When the poems do not arrive,

it is time to sit and quiet.

Rest is needed

so trust in Life can

bubble up for expression

and flow in a new way.

When the poems do not arrive

and the wings of inspiration

do not lift and lighten,

one must look within with honesty.

Where are the blocks?

When found, raise them up

and bless them.

Be grateful for the freedom they bring

when discovered and set aside.

When the poems do not arrive,

grieve a little and

then let go.

For there is no one to blame.

This is not about you.

There is only understanding

waiting for the dawn.

It always comes.

When the poems do not arrive,

be patient.

For when Presence returns,

so will the words that illuminate it.

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Floating Through

June 20, 2018 becomingandbeholdingLeave a comment

Poem · Poetry

True Nourishment

May 26, 2018May 26, 2018 becomingandbeholdingLeave a comment

We mean well.

We want to do the right thing,

for our health –

in this body.

We research,

we ponder,

we constantly switch gears…

our poor, confused pantry.

Our mind spins along with the

grocery list.

How do we feed this body,

this temple,

this home?

Does the flower question the sun?

Does the tree even think about the soil?

No, they just bloom and grow,

guided in the ways to stretch.

Does the hungry child refuse the rice bowl –

freely given?

Food is food.

Perhaps it is time

for a big serving of gratitude…

and instead of seeking answers

outside ourselves,

to look inward,

and trust the wisdom within.

Our bodies know

what nourishes best.

Listen –

and let go of the struggle.

In this way,

your world can open into

a beautiful freedom –

and lasting health

can be born.

Poem · Poetry

Gradually Getting It

May 9, 2018May 9, 2018 becomingandbeholdingLeave a comment

Here is the nub of it all:

Like a white birch tree,

along a rocky shore,

I am most beautiful, healthy, and free,

when I am part of

the whole picture,

blending into the larger scene.

Standing alone,

while interesting,

makes the tree more

vulnerable to the wind and weather.

One has to ask,

What will happen if I drop my striving and planning?

More and more,

this question arrives, and

I dare to loosen my grip,

embracing the magic

of trust and letting go –

I follow inspiration,

and stop making it all

about me.

Poem · Poetry

Bit by Bit

February 3, 2018February 3, 2018 becomingandbeholding2 Comments

Her vision widens a bit

this time

as she enters her day

in the same old way.

Perhaps something new will dawn.

His heart dares to stretch

and open a bit wider.

A new kind of surrender

peeks through the song of pain

on constant rewind.

Life itself can open us

to what is real and true,

if allowed.

We discover this

when we trust enough

to peek

from under the many covers

we have pulled over our head.

With each new glimpse,

we allow the Creator

to fashion us more artfully

beyond the many ways

we have allowed our clay

to harden.

Soften or harden?

Open or close?

Yield or tighten the grip?

Ignore or listen?

These are the daily choices

in finding the path

to Grace.

Pay attention.

Poem · Poetry

Blessed Assurance

September 27, 2017September 27, 2017 becomingandbeholding2 Comments

No more a need

to solve, cling, or do.

I am done with all that.

Breathe.

Just be.

I turn my attention outward

trusting that inwardly,

I am whole.

This is an important shift

and not one that is

familiar –

a down shift,

into trust –

rather than constant acceleration.

True freedom comes in

letting go of the wheel,

not needing to see the road ahead.

Gradually, I am learning to be

more of a passenger.

It is strange how unfamiliar it feels.

I have learned so deeply

to be on my own,

driving solo.

But I repeatedly follow the wrong directions

being the simple human

I have learned to be,

confused by which GPS to heed.

Now I call upon my divine nature.

It has taken decades to

own it.

Such a beautiful feeling…

to know it is not all

up to me –

that no map is needed.

A look back

in the rear view mirror

confirms.

All is well –

and has been all along the way.

Blessed be.