Collaboration

Though the rocks seem inhospitable, 

Cold and hard, 

Somehow the plants 

 Seem to grow and thrive around them, 

And together, the firm and the delicate 

Tell a tale of cooperation; 

A marriage of strength and beauty 

That warms the heart and pleases the eye.

Life’s a labyrinth

Life’s a bit of a labyrinth: 

You can see where you’re trying to get to, 

But the path you’re traveling 

 Is not exactly direct. 

Have faith, keep breathing, and trust 

That where you are now 

Is where you’re meant to be.

Sharing the spotlight

Just as different flowers on a single stalk 

May bloom at different times, 

So, too, must humans wait 

Until it is their time to bloom, 

And come to understand the charm 

In serving as a backdrop 

For the others on your stalk, 

While knowing with assurance 

Your opportunity will come.

For all who suffer

For those days when you feel 

Like nothing’s going nowhere 

And no one would miss you 

If you just stepped out into the void 

And disappeared completely, 

Please take a minute and breathe in 

A breath for all who also feel 

Discouraged and depressed, 

Then reach down deep into your heart 

And find whatever spark of joy remains 

And breathe it out: a gift for all who suffer.

Stop and smell the flowers

It’s never a bad idea to stop and smell the flowers, 

Even when the flowers don’t exactly smell, 

Because to take that sniff requires you 

 To take a breath, slow down, 

And then become, however briefly, 

Present to the beauty that nature has to offer.

Taking a chance

What’s life, without a little mystery? 

An invitation to explore, 

An opportunity to try something 

That’s just a little different… 

It’s so easy to assume 

 That the way things always were 

Is the way they’ll always be: 

Why risk a possible fall from normality?

Divisions real or imaginary

And when I saw how the cloud bisected 

Both sky and sea, I found myself 

Feeling the echoes of our divisions; 

The painful split in our unity, 

And wondered: is ours, like this, 

Simply a reflection of the times? 

Or does it — as I fear it may — 

Divide to the depths of being?