False suns

Like the flowers,

We humans crave the light 

And lift our faces to whatever sun we find, 

Which, like the sun, might offer grace or harm. 

Might be the spotlight that we crave, 

That need to be the center of attention, 

Or simply being in the presence of celebrity; 

Might be the thrill of belonging to a group, 

Or the furied drive to make it on our own; 

Might be the ecstasy that comes with addiction, 

Or the pride we take in flaunting our abstinence- 

So many temptations to follow lesser suns, 

But only one will ever truly make us bloom…

The majesty of everything

Though I grew up being told 

Not to be the poor deluded soul 

Who “couldn’t see the forest for the trees,” 

I also believe it’s easy to get so distracted 

By the majesty of the trees 

That you might miss the astounding beauty 

Of the tiny flowers 

 That dot the ground beneath them. 

How can we become more conscious 

 Of the value of both ways of seeing, 

And more attuned to the full range 

 Of what’s going on around us?

An hour of joy

From 8:01 to 8:56, 

 An incredible parade of beauty. 

How blessed are we, 

 To be offered this hour of joy?

Now and when

We always have that choice: 

To appreciate and cultivate 

 The bright greenness of what’s here, and now — 

Or to fixate on our worries 

 About the thunderclouds in the distance: 

Which will you choose today?

Fragility of blooming

Imagine the ache and the promise 

Of this slow unfurling; 

Like watching your daughter 

Budding into puberty 

As the support system you’ve provided 

Softens and opens — 

The sweetness of possibility; 

That delicate fragility 

 When facing the winds of change…

Beauty and injustice

How much easier it seems, 

 Yet how more rare 

To awaken to beauty 

Than it is to awaken to injustice.

 Beauty requires no response but appreciation; 

Injustice, though… frustration, guilt, horror? 

Shamed by our inaction or our helplessness? 

Feelings that linger, 

 Haunt our dreams and waking hours, 

 Though we try instead to focus

 On beauty…

Architectural

We don’t see architectural details like this 

On houses any more, but seeing these, 

I find myself imagining the pride of workmanship 

The builders must have felt 

 To create such beauty, 

And the joy the new owners must have felt 

(And the present ones must still be feeling) 

To be living with such perfection. 

Art and creativity at its best 

Can be spiritually uplifting; 

As Eckhart Tolle says, “A portal to the sacred.”