Of course we use metaphors.
Of course we try to understand the ineffable.
Of course we fall short.
Of course we try again.
Can you explain beauty
Or describe love?
It is all so marvelously immense.
I’m grateful – no thrilled –
To be a tiny part of a universe
That is so far beyond my grasp
And so filled with wonder
And so deeply interwoven.
I’ll never understand.
Isn’t that grand?
[photo by Andrew Kuznetsov per cc 2.0]
I think of soul as anything’s ultimate meaning, held deep within. – Richard Rohr, paraphrased
If you have not found your own arête, your true soul,
Then, you are in competition with all others
For a place in the universe.
When you do find it,
When it is shown to you,
All others become your siblings.
You can find brother sun, sister moon,
Uncle mountain, mother earth,
And cousins in all your fellow travelers.
The strength of others becomes
A bulwark rather than a threat
As you meld your different gifts into a greater whole.
When you find your part to play,
When you play in joy with others,
All the world befriends you.
The gift of being,
Even the gift of joining others
In discovering your mutual gifts – is, itself, a gift.
[the image above, by Ade McOran-Campbell has been placed in the public domain by the artist]
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]
Yesterday, I went to the funeral of my aunt.
Her obituary was not filled with a list of accomplishments,
But the room was filled with a host of people she loved.
She was a pillar that supported the roof over my childhood
She made the sandwiches for our tree house lunches
She took us swimming and held us with her laughter.
As we grew, she gave us books
That pushed us beyond the boundaries of our small backyard
Suggesting that the grace and love of God were big enough for more.
Because she loved deeply and let herself be loved
She gave us ninety-six years of quiet blessing.
She taught us to be grateful … and we are.
My dear little one,
Here is the eternal truth:
You were born of love; into love; for love.
From the start,
Our love flowed around you,
Holding you, cuddling you.
And as you grow into awareness,
As you begin to see and know,
Your laughter becomes our joy.
We watch you explore creation,
To make your own creations within it,
And we delight in your delight.
When you return our love,
When you smile at our smiles,
The day is full.
This exchange seems so deeply right.
It whispers of the love of God
That keeps creation dancing.
Could it be that God, herself,
Is whispering this same refrain
In my soul’s ear?
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]