the tenderness that wants to hold you

IMG_1436.JPG

the tenderness that wants to hold you

Beneath the surface,
if you pay attention,
you can see
the light emanating.
Its only desire
to touch you.
Feel its warmth
like the sun upon your skin.
Fall into
the tenderness that wants to hold you.

 

Do you ever feel like there is something waiting for you, if you could only let go of what has its grip on you and surrender to what might be? I wrote this poem one morning as I connected with the power of something gentle and sweet to take care of me.

 

* I took this photo in my backyard of a columbine flower that had lost it’s outer petals to the wind.

slowing down

Mexico Jan19 1 (3)

Awakening

Slowing down.
I see with clarity.

Slowing down.
I hear what people are saying.

Slowing down.
I feel the energy around me.

Slowing down.
I speak in the direction of truth.

Slowing down.
I find power within me.

Slowing down.
I breathe into the world.

And, I awaken.

 

This poem was published in my first poetry book Mostly My Heart Sings. Since connecting last week with my beautiful friend Jana, I’ve been thinking a lot about going slower. When we were together we talked about how much richer our experience is when we go slow enough to be fully present for it.

 

* I took this photo in Mazunte, Mexico. This beautiful flower grew from the top of a small tree near a bus stop on the main road. I loved the way it was awakening to the light of a beautiful sunny day.

the gift of now

IMG_1672

the gift of now

rushing
to be where
we think
we should be
we miss
the opportunity
of the present

hurrying
to know
the future’s plans
we move
right past
the chance
to sense
this moment’s grace

moving
out of habit
we walk
without awareness
of the beautiful nuance
available in our current experience

slowing
to the gift
of now
we open
and feel
fully alive

 

This poem, similar to last week’s (a simple dream), evolved from noticing myself expecting that I should be doing something more or that I should be somewhere else. I find myself in a hurry to know what the future holds, as if the days will somehow be richer if I just know.

And then grace enters the room, I catch myself getting ahead, begin to wonder why I’m rushing, and find what it takes slow down. Once I stop the scurry, I can breathe into the present, with all it has to offer. I discover that I am exactly where I am supposed to be and there is enough time for life to unfold.

 

You might also like:

 

* I took this photo in San Agustinillo, Mexico. This is Bailey (RIP) who, like so many dog friends, shows us the way to now.