A Little Light Reading

I love poetry and poets. I love the heart that articulates the soul and mind. You are all so sweet to share with me, I wanted to share one of my favourite poets with you, E.E. Cummings: Truth seeker and pacifist, genius and exuberant heart. I normally recite silently; this is my reading I taped lo-fi into a mobile phone and mingled with some photographs you may have seen and some that are new to you. Feel free to tell me what you think on here or on youtube. May all your days be filled with poetry.



Peace,
x

New beginnings, ascending

I hold a bird in my hands. This bird of love. It looks up with sad eyes and I notice then that its wing is injured. Whose fault was this? Yours, mine or ours? It doesn't matter now. I must heal it without fail.

On waking one day, I find, not when I tell it to, but when the bird tells me, that it is well again - I can let go, let it fly, let it be. The eyes are no longer sad, but trusting, aware, forgiving. "Forgive me", I still say. For whatever we do or don't do that causes pain, we humans should always ask forgiveness. There is value in releasing hurtful pride, and allowing truth to be our friend. Acknowledge the wrong. This could be apathy, forgetfulness or worst of all, ignorance. Be truthful that it might have been your fault and if it wasn't, there is something to be said for healing the wound that isn't your doing.

Love is one of the most precious things we can offer. How easy it is to forget the love we see every day, the love we share, the love we hold. How foolish it can be to look for it elsewhere, either out of sadness or even boredom. The brave heart understands the trust in its hands. The mind reminds it to look at it, every day, every night.

"Forgive me" are powerful words. With them, we lay ourselves open to love and - acknowledge the weakness we are programmed to hide in this motorised world. We are not machines, mistakes will be made. The lesson of wisdom when this happens is what you do afterwards. Do you ignore it? Turn your back on it? Or heal the wing?

Years might have passed, or simply days before such questions are asked of ourselves. The important thing is to ask them. Believe in the good and let it come through you as light that rests within us all. Ready to shine, glisten or murmur through your skin ever so quietly.

Love is a tender bird, strengthened by our actions. Love is the bird in flight. Treated well, it can transcend time and trials. Know yourself and those you love by understanding - without judging. Loving freely soon follows.

Peace,
x

Love Letters

Vanessa, a sweet soul (Vanessa's Runway) paid me a kind compliment two posts back and then mentioned my possibly writing love letters.

I must admit, I've never written one or a love poem. Received letters and poems? Perhaps. Modesty forbids one from discussing details. The truth is, in my mind, those didn't count, because the emotion (carefully avoiding the word - love) was not reciprocated.

I truly admire people who can profess love through a letter, without knowing how the beloved receiver may react. It is brave, it is hopeful, sometimes it's just foolish. But I would rather encounter an honest fool than a dishonest vagabond. Did I just type vagabond? Alas must be the Browning influence.

Secretly too, sometimes, I peer out from under an emotional hat, wondering what it must be like to love the sender of a love letter. I've never been in love, not even close. I guard my heart carefully and want to be with one person and not waste a lifetime tasting the fall-aways. This may seem quaint and old-fashioned in this day and age, but I'm OK with that. Although I do tend to hear the chorus of "When one has so much love to give it would be a waste not to marry...". People mean well. Yet, one cannot force love, one cannot conjure chemistry or forge true understanding. It is so much easier to be friends than to know who your life partner should be.

So when I come across a love letter, a genuine profession of the beating heart, It moves me, in a sweet sad way that can only be compared to looking through glass at a beautiful sight you cannot touch. Then I close the shutters. And reality crowds in like welcome clouds. I am reminded how blessed I am, how gifted with good people and true love in other ways.

The rose you see above is a love letter. One picked by my father to give to my mother. After decades of marriage I am touched by how sweetly they can share love. In ways I cannot describe here, they bring an example for me to look up to. I also see it in my friends, a couple who have been through so much in a youthful marriage, perhaps the sum of challenges some face in decades and still their strength and faith revives and holds up their love. They are amazing to me. They make the choice to see the good in everyday and each other. I think the best examples of love to me are those who choose to work as a team, no matter what and make it them against life's inevitable tests. Perhaps that is the best love letter, the unwritten, never finished one. Where the pages are years and the words are their actions.

Love is such a delicate beautiful giver, of the heart and the mind. I am reminded that if anyone wants proof of God they need only think of love. I hope you can all take the time to treasure the soul that is entwined with yours today. Feel free to write a love letter, or even share it. This wonderland was made with love. So I guess, these posts are my journey but also, my love letter to you.

Peace,
x

Listening

I like listening, I adore people who listen without waiting to jump in. Although an endearing talker can make me smile; I'm sure you know someone like that, who is just fidgeting to speak, so you nod and then their words flow like pearls clattering down stairs.

I am slowly realising that there is an art to this life, and listening is another art within it; one to practice and attempt to perfect. Yes, I said perfect. I know we will never achieve that state, being flesh and fallible. Yet while knowing this and being freed from the myth of human perfection, why not aim for perfection? that way you can at least conquer the best you can do and exceed your own expectations.
This applies to listening.

It is also giving: Something to share without asking anything back, something you present, something that makes someone feel special. Listening ticks all of those boxes without coming in a gift-wrapped one.

As a child I was either incredibly shy and watchful, soaring with glee or chatting non-stop with those I felt comfortable with. Not unusual. But I recall listening in order to learn, absorb, soak in. The quiet moments taught me most. The expressions of adults as they pondered thoughts I could not reach, with emotions I could sense as keenly as fire or ice. As we grow older and savour the nuances of a deeper and wiser life, our beloveds have a lot more to say, a lot more to carry and also release.

Listening brings it's own rewards. At first the air changes. Literally. I can feel a tangible peace when someone listens and I listen back. The words that are spoken are absorbed. And still more goes on, we are expressing, "I am here", "I understand" and even "I love you" without having to say a word.

Time is so precious and one of our preconceptions is that we need to fill it to experience it; with speed, travel, music, parties. All of these things are extras, some of them wonderful extras but they cannot replace the gift of time, spent with someone, when you just listen.

Peace,

x