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Archive for the ‘me’ Category

to see

to see the world
 not as a pyramid
where many must be on the bottom
so that a few can be on top,
but as a circle,
a weaving,
a dance of life.

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Running –

   out the back door

   across the yard

   through the cornfield

   down the banks of the ravine

   past stinging nettles.

          *  *  *

Down, down to the creek,

and the great, gray rock

that formed an island

in the trickling water.

              * * *

Sitting alone,

   on the rough stone,

   enveloped by the cool, green stillness

   of my sanctuary.

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The store

A place where things are stored

until we need them.

Or think we do.

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Sunset

Chorus of light

sings the evening benediction.

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Memories – ten years old

Finding words that rhyme with “at”
  (The fat cat sat on the mat.
    The rat ate my flat hat.)

Ten year old me,
perched in a tree.
Writing poetry.

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 Baking bread.

Tending a garden.

An outstretched hand.

 A smile.

Sincere questions:

 “How do you feel about that?”

“What do you think?”

A listening heart.

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Everything that lives is holy

William Blake said, “Everything that lives is holy.”

                          –  –  –  –  –  –  –  –  –  –

Leaf, ant, flea

camel, cow,

you, me.

Holy.

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