And what remains is love

Looking back across the span of a lifetime, 

There can be so many mountains 

That we saw but failed to climb; 

So many journeys anticipated 

But never realized; so many oceans 

We could have crossed but didn’t — 

Yet here we stand, on the solid ground 

Of our own unique experiences, 

Secure in the awareness 

 That what life we’ve lived, we’ve done our best 

To live as thoughtfully and graciously 

As we were capable at the time, 

And trusting that we’ll fill what years are left 

With as much love and grace 

As our overflowing hearts will allow.

Fueled by the Source

Creativity takes many forms, and who’s to say 

Which is the most creative, the most valuable, 

The most fueled by a connection to spirit. 

 The art in the galleries; 

 The galleries themselves; 

The building in which the galleries are housed; 

The van, designed for service; 

The three-dimensional map 

 With which it’s covered; 

The buildings and the community 

 The map represents; 

The photograph which captures them all — 

Each speaks to that connection; 

Each is fueled by and then honors 

The Source of all creation, 

 And moves me to rejoice.

Vestiges of the past

So much of what we see and do is shaped; 

Colored by what we’ve seen and done before. 

The roots of our decisions 

 May bear very little resemblance 

To the final image we portray, 

With only tiny inklings peeking through 

To suggest what might have happened 

 In the depths of our past…

Open to insight

The gifts we long for — 

Insight, discernment, connection, healing — 

Are far more likely to arrive 

If we make the time to stop; 

 To make our hopes and expectations clear; 

And then to wait, hearts open in anticipation 

 Of what might get sent our way.

The losses of the past

The losses of the past 

Cast their long shadows on the present, 

Yet still we keep on sailing through, 

Knowing each has added 

 Depth and color to our journey.

New/old challenges on the way

As the colors of our sunsets grow more subtle, 

We feel the chill in the air, and know 

That winter’s on its way, with its curious mix 

Of holiday demands and hibernation…

Variety is the spice…

Why does it so delight my soul to see 

So many colors in a single tree?