Friendship is a beautiful thing.
It sings softly in the corners of the day.
It smiles quietly when you come through the door
And misses you when you are gone.
It is almost imperceptible at times, but then
It anchors your soul when storms come,
And rejoices in your joys, sending them soaring.
A simple hug from a friend can heal your soul.
I am so grateful for the gift, for the gifts, of friends.
[photo by Justo Ruiz per cc 2.0]
I wonder …
and when I do, judgment falls to the wayside.
All the fingers of my mind,
That try to grasp and hold – and fix – reality,
Release their grip.
Wakes to beauty
Rests in grace.
I am held in the open palm
Of God’s dear hand
In the twinkling of an insight,
I am changed.
My soul is released into the mystery.
I find that I am held
Even as I am freed.
[Thanks to Maria Popova in her post on gentle wonder as a corrective …]
[photo is my own]
The things that wake my soul:
- Beauty – particularly the movement inherent in asymmetrical beauty
- Deep honesty toward myself – which opens the door to connection
- Improbable hope lived out with grace
- Kindness – especially unbidden and (almost) unseen
- Friendship’s glance – and its extended cousin, a loving gaze
- Laughter – the kind that draws you in
- Whispers beneath the stars
And that inexplicable, unpredictable touch of the universe, when it says, ‘YES!’
[photo by Attila Siha per cc 2.0]
There are some images that speak for themselves.
As soon as you try to nail them down with words,
You make them smaller.
You tighten your focus, and lose the fullness.
Analysis can be good
But sometimes grateful acceptance is even better.
[photo is my own – you many use it under cc By-NC-SA 2.0]
Beauty is not skin deep
It calls to deep.
Layer upon layer upon layer
Creating fractals of pleasure
That play, one upon the other.
It expands far into the distance
Even as it brushes my cheek
With life-giving moisture.
When I stop to notice beauty,
It breaks my soul open.
When I train my eyes to see it
My heart cannot help but follow.
And here is the secret:
Beauty is everywhere.
There it is.
[photo from the wonderful blog, nature has no boss, by MIKE BIZEAU used with permission]
Good morning, Holy One.
You smile upon the earth and the sun decides to rise.
You breathe and that breath stirs the trees and sets the waters skipping.
You kiss the earth and it blooms.
How then can my heart be dull?
How can I stop my voice from singing?
How can I sit alone and lonely in the face of such wonder?
For your constant ‘Yes,’ stirring my soul to unshakable hope.
That is what I need.
That is what you give, this holy morning.
[photo is my own]
The wind chimes
Hang outside my window
And when the breeze is low
I can barely hear them.
My ears are deaf
But my heart is held
By their quiet, soft, round tone.
They melt into that hollow.
Before the world begins its clamor
And the responsibilities click in place
I am held by unspoken beauty.
Even at noon
When the wind is still
And the chimes hang limp
The beauty of hope remains.
And in the evening
When the cool and breeze return
My heart is reminded.
I find I am held, still.