You miss the garden, because you want a small fig from a random tree . . .
Scarlet Begonia
Inside Presence
Light dawns, and any talk of proof resembles a blind man’s cane at sunrise. Remember the passage, We are with you wherever you are . . .
Eco Printing Paper with Leaves
These autumn leaves are too tempting to leave untouched on the ground; just the sound that rises when walking through them is enough to make me want to disturb them . . . we don't usually think of *causing disturbance* as a 'fun' thing or something worthwhile, but that's where context is everything . . .
Rumi’s Quatrain 77
Rumi's Ruba'ie or Quatrain #77 seems to have inspired numerous translations, each with their own nuances . . .
dry brush
let yourself be brushed by amaranth or spicebush while you wander wild allow yourself to be smudged even when there is no smoke
Black Cohosh
Actea Racemose or Cimicifuga Rasemosa, also known as Black Cohosh, Squaroot, and Snakeroot is a bitter and cooling perennial herb whose roots are known for their effects on 'women's issues' and the female reproductive system. I first heard of it as part of a labor tincture in Susun Weed's Wise Woman Herbal for the Childbearing... Continue Reading →
Flowering
"The sound of salaams rising as waves diminish down in prayer, hoping for some trace of the one whose trace does not appear.If anyone asks you to say who you are, say without hesitation, Soul within soul within soul.There is a pearl diver who does not know how to swim.No matter. Pearls are handed him... Continue Reading →
Moon Breath
"Flowers every night Blossom in the sky; Peace in the Infinite, At peace am I . . .
Journaling with Maulana Rumi
Reading the Maulana's poems grounds me, provides comfort, and also opens doors to contemplation. They are a source of awe, wisdom, and inspiration that ever inform; that centuries after he lived his words are relevant today I find breathtakingly marvelous! I've been wondering: if he lived today, what would come forth? Following the thread from... Continue Reading →
Flux
Today the sky is clear, Three birds brush blue wings against it; Their trills sweep across the mountains. Tomorrows clouds drift around, Wisps carrying sheep and dragons into a field Where they dance in ecstatic motion. Next week a dark gathering, I become the pea under a pile of mattresses Struggling to be free of... Continue Reading →
