it’s all food the tender touch of a loved one or the feeling of the sun on your face the stub of your toe on the chair foot, again or cutting your finger with the vegetables the taste of cinnamon and tangerine the argument at work or interaction you just weren’t present for the sound of church bells ringing in the distance or the alarm clock buzzing you awake the disappointment of not taking the initiative to help someone else, or yourself the joy of the children playing in the yard or a quiet moment’s rest. every little thing. it’s all food. food if only you’re truly hungry to know your truth and ready to taste some ripe delicious fruit.
We’re all authors We’re all authors. Our minds are always writing stories. Oh, the drama that goes on in there! Mostly we don’t even realize the pen is at work. But those habitual patterns of thought, those beliefs we hold and assumptions we make, pour out to fill chapters in our book. Amusing, lighthearted stories, stories of danger and fear, stories of hate and love, sadness and happiness. Endless themes for our fickle minds. The novellas we love - and those we hate – shaped by our engagement in the world. It all comes to us in a rush - what people say, how something makes us feel, our basic human needs - and we scurry to scribble out our truths onto the page where everyone can see them.
So Much to See Come out of hiding Express your Self with abandon Step into being wholly who you are Allow divine energy to flow through you Embrace the sanctitude of sharing your truth Reveal your genuine Self Verity emerges as you open your soul Your luminescence rises above the noise of the world like fog along the mountains As you empty yourself naked, exposing your depths Who you are flows like water moving from a pitcher to a clear glass Your truth freed from within, so much to see in the emergence
This poem is also part of a collection I put together called Meditative Blossoms.