How a single ray of light
slips through a thicket
setting a leafy row ablaze

How the Kingfisher’s trill
echoes off silken waters

How our love remains despite
the ills that pursue us …

Glorious mystery.

(Glorious first appeared here December, 2019. Edited here. Image my own)


Nature’s Message

Nature has a way of reminding –
even the most diehard nonbelievers –
that a force, inexplicable and sacred, exists

Like an unseasonal storm unleashing hail
waking us from a deep slumber –
she is a messenger, knocking

The soul answers, child reawakened,
joyous recognition that despite all
theories, doctrines, and delusions

There exists a life within a life:
a great mystery that defies
and keeps us ever humble.

(Revisiting old posts, I found these words.
To see the original, posted in September 2014, click here.
Image my own.)

Mystery Beckons

How often I’ve reconstructed that wall,
and still it crumbles, the universe
and ever-reaching temptation,
her tentacles tearing at the fabric
of this constraint –

I am losing the battle,
have little left of value
in this black and white world –
conformity does not suit
my disposition –

Unwieldy as I am, I will climb
that ladder, follow the uncoventional,
delve once more into the mystery.

(Written for Hélène Vaillant’s What Do You See? challenge.  Featured image is the prompt.)

Meet You At The Station

Alternate realities
parallel linear logic –

Non-ego driven forays into
magical mysteries –
answers not supplied –

Float in orgasmic,
ethereal landscapes –
kaleidoscopic colours
unseen by cloistered eyes

Behold irrationality –
a mad whirlwind of all-time
convening into a single moment

The portal’s open,
step aboard;
make sure your ticket
is round-trip.

(Submitted for Twenty Four’s 50 Word Thursday challenge.  Image supplied by Deb W.)

A Final Mystery

Is death a gentle reprieve,
a final release of suffering
a promised resting place?

Or is it contemplation
coloured by memories
demanding retribution?

Will death bring reunion
unleash forgiveness
shine with revelation?

Will one final earthly breath
call forth all the fragments of the soul
and restore wholeness?

I have witnessed death –
both embraced and unwanted –
snatch the spirit from its nest

felt the whoosh of escape
and a swirl of celebration,
known the peace that follows

witnessed the body, open-eyed
and open-mouthed
become a vacuum –

discarded membranes;
an impotent shell.

The spirit does not dwell there;
it lives on borrowed time.

Where it goes when all is done
remains life’s poignant mystery.

(Originally posted January of 2015, this poem fits V.J.’s Weekly Challenge theme of mystery, hosted on One Woman’s Quest II.  There is still time to participate.  Head on over and check it out.)

Day 132 “Creativity of the Tao”

“The world works in mysterious ways,”  my father used to say to me.  “It’s wonders never cease.”

I forget sometimes that life is a mystery.  I forget that there is an underlying force that weaves its way through our lives and creates a tapestry of meaning.  A Universe of order and compassion, Dora Kunz* calls it.

Thor has just had his fourth surgery since January.  His ability to heal is severely compromised.  I worry for him.  He feels as if he is just watching one marble after another drop in his life, falling to its fate:  out of control.

I, in the meantime, am losing my marbles.  I try to carry on as if everything is normal, and push through the anxiety, but every part of me resists.  My body rebels against my rational thoughts and proclaims its dominance.  In moments, I feel calm, reassured, but then I leave the house and my chest contracts, squeezing the breath out of me, and my heart races, fatiguing me greatly.  I want to lie down and wake up to a new reality.

There is no other reality.

This is our life.

If I can find faith, I will remember that this is just one more creative process in the greater scheme of things.  One of life’s mysteries.

*Co-founder of therapeutic touch.