Tag Archives: wind

I Came Close

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I spent the day in deep listening,
self-care
laid heart and soul bare
before daring wayfarers
who walk this path with me.
I danced with the trees,
looked up to the sun
reached out to the water
felt down to the earth
breathed in the wind
and out my fears.
I transformed from closed and scared
to fluid and light body
loving song through the forest
at top of lungs fearlessly.
To whomever says heaven
isn’t on earth:
I have something to share…
Today I came close.

Only the Wind Speaks

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The wind howled and howled all day.
This evening in yoga class
I challenged my students
to identify the story they told themselves
that was holding them back.
I also challenged them to discover
the practice that would facilitate
their living into the biggest version of themselves.
The wind kept howling just outside the studio window.
It was a mournful sound, a sound of
deep, inconsolable sadness.
I heard the voices of those who had gone on,
the voices of those who regretted deeply
not living the lives
they were born to live.
Now only the wind speaks for them.

Listen to This Life that is Ours

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When the redbud, radiant in her new pink gown
places her arms around the forlorn forsythia and asks
Friend, stay awhile yet,

When the saucer magnolia
cries soft pink tears that pool in the grass
and spill overflowing into the road,

When the chilly wind stirs the wisteria
and frees the cherry blossoms
from their distant perch

When winter’s icy fingers still clutch
at the robes of the Goddess Spring
who longs to break free of the chains
and dance in the warmth of awakening–

When the green mist of rebirth
splashes the forest with promises
of incalculable abundance

Then, friend,
then let us go by the river
and listen to this life that is ours.

 

Kite Flying

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It was a gusty warm March day,
and I had my two little ones
along with my nephew for the afternoon.

On the way out the door to the playground,
I remembered the kite we bought
a few years ago.

Once there,
it took a moment to assemble
so long had it been since I had last flown that kite.

Once the parts were fit together
It didn’t take much for it to grab the wind
whose hearty puffs of energy quickly
bore the kite aloft into the vast expanse of blue sky

and I remembered childhood kite flying days
and the thrill of watching my kite
grow smaller and smaller
as the distance stretched
between my hand
and the bright colors of soaring magic.

***********************
I enjoyed about ten minutes of tugging on the kite string before passing it on to my nephew who did quite well manning the vessel.  And then a child who wanted to take a turn flying the kite after my nephew let it careen off into the forest where it got stuck in a tangle of trees and briars.  It was ensnared about 25 feet up in a small tree with no branches to climb to fetch it.  The little boy’s mother said she was sorry about the kite but sadly made no offer to contribute to a replacement.  What made it worse was that she had mentioned them having the same kite so she knew how expensive it was– between forty and fifty dollars–not a cheapo plastic one, but a beautifully constructed work of flying art. For the rest of the afternoon and evening I was nursing a pretty righteous grudge; if the tables were turned I would’ve surely offered some money as well as a sincere apology. My husband and I tried to retrieve it when he got back home from work at dusk but our ladder wasn’t long enough, neither was the telescoping pole with an X-acto knife taped to it that we were hoping to use to cut the string and free the kite.  The air grew colder as the sun set, and my hands began to sting from the wind exposure. Sigh.  No more kite.  Another fine opportunity to practice forgiveness and non-attachment.

Valentine’s Day Metta

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Snow falling
Wind gusting
Roads freezing
People hurrying, bundled,
running to the warmth of their homes.

But there are those without homes.

I wonder about the homeless;
I hope they will find shelter tonight.
Already this year,
six people in Baltimore have lost their lives
because of the bitter cold.

On this Valentine’s Day,
my heart breaks to think of it.
What  can I do now but send metta?

May all beings be safe
May all beings be free from suffering
May all beings have mental and physical happiness.
May all beings be at ease.
May all beings be happy.

Listening

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A rainy day in Baltimore city
An airplane flying overhead
Wind rustling the changing leaves
Drops of rain ending their descent
on asphalt, concrete, metal, glass, garbage
but also on earth, grass, flowers, trees,
and puppies scampering by with umbrella-ed owners
A neighbor sings as she walks down the street
The latest pop tune?
I don’t know,
I’m disconnected from that scene
I prefer to listen to the inner music,
the music that no one else can hear,
but maybe they can see
when they look at me
what a mixture of unconscious dissonance and
deliberate harmony can produce
in this human life
of sounds and silence.

Sunflowers

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The wind rushes in my window–
A welcome music after hearing the violent discord,
some neighbors arguing in the street.
No eloquent words were exchanged–
only the basest of language reigned,
their tongues made prisoner by that tyrant Ignorance.

The wind blows even stronger
and the prayer flags fluttering above my window
give rest to my eyes
after watching a little boy
–my neighbor’s son–
duck away across the street,
presumably to escape that discordant hell.
His slight frame curling forward protectively,
his fast little stick legs flashing white in the street light,
a vision now haunting me–
I hope he made it inside before the rains came.

Distant thunder, the storm approaches,
I open my window even wider to let it in.

Come blow the hatred away, the misunderstanding;
Come blow the blindness away and restore our sight;
Cleanse the cluttered mind.

The raindrops fall and slam and batter,
and still the sunflowers stand tall.

100 Down

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Embed from Getty Images

Today I publish a post to Yoga Mom for the 100th consecutive day. One hundred posts down and only 265 left to go before I can cross “Published a blog post every day for a year” off my list of things I think I should accomplish at some point in my life.  After this year is done, I’m guessing that I’ll be so much in the habit of posting daily that it’ll feel strange to not continue, so who knows?  Maybe I’ll just have to publish a blog post every day for the rest of my life. Stranger things have happened.

Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt suggested that we take five songs from a playlist (iPod, Pandora, Spotify, etc.) and construct a poem from the titles. I’m too tired (lazy?) to fetch my iPod from downstairs, so I’ll take just one song title and construct a poem from there.  The song is “Tall Trees” by the artist Rashani on the album Songs of Interbeing.  Living in the city, I often find my heart is longing, wishing to be surrounded by nature. Rashani’s song resonates on a deep level, evoking images of nature at its most elemental.  It’s a simple song, short and sweet, with the lyrics sung twice.  There is some nice drum, guitar, and harmonization in a kind of canon with another singer.

Here are the lyrics:

Tall trees
Warm fire
Strong winds
Deep water
I feel you in my body
I feel you in my soul.

And now here I go:

An Ode to the Forest Sentinels

Tall trees, where are you?
I look up and see power lines
telephone poles
brick buildings
radio towers
I cannot see you when I look with my body’s eyes
so I close the doors to the outer world
and look within.

Ahh yes. There you are.
Tall trees, you are in my heart!
And growing beside you, ferns
and at your feet, moss
And flowing close by, a broad and swiftly moving stream
Making my most favorite music,
the sound of clear water tumbling over smooth stones.

The forest cathedral is a most sacred place
Nowhere else have I felt so connected to Source.
In the quiet, sweet and melodious cacophony of insects, birds, scampering squirrels–
In the wind that stirs the leaves–
In the bass vibration of darkest fertile earth,
mysterious, smelling of life and the potential for life
smelling of death and the inevitability of death–
I witness the absolute interconnectedness and perfection
of all things living on this our most precious treasure,
our most precious and irreplaceable treasure–
our earth mother.

I dream of living near you, ancient sentinels of the untouched forest expanses
That I may visit you daily and pay homage to the strength
that took you through many seasons,
standing tall in every kind of weather.
I dream of sitting beside you,
looking up at you in wordless awe.
I imagine bowing humbly at your feet like a graceful fern,
Abiding alongside you for millennia
that I may learn from your example,
root down
reach up
and G R O W into the light.

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