Unlocking precognitive assumptions

We understand the concept 

Of precognitive learning: 

The hard lessons that we learned 

Before we could evaluate truth or falsehood; 

Those formative beliefs now locked away 

Behind doors long unused and rusted shut. 

Perhaps the time has come 

To pry them open and explore 

Whether or not what lies behind them 

Might be true...

Waiting for the tide to change

Life can be beautiful, serene, yet often rocky; 

Our hoped-for destinations close, and yet 

Impossible to reach. 

Sometimes it’s best to busy yourself 

Fashioning a raft while you wait 

For the tide to rise again...

So much of what we see is projection...

What do we project onto this leaf? 

Is she brittle, parched and vulnerable; 

Waiting, helpless, for waves of grief 

To wash her from this rocky shore 

And carry her to the dark depths of despair? 

Or can we still admire the delicate tracing 

Of lines upon her golden skin; 

The way she glows with reflected light; 

Her fragile beauty as she awaits 

The breezes that will lift her to new horizons?

Remembering clarity

I remember — sadly, fondly — 

When I knew everything I knew 

With so much clarity and assurance. 

Life was so much easier then, 

Tied to my firm opinions, knowing 

Not only what was right for me, but also 

What was right for you. 

Now the water’s muddier, 

The boundaries much less clear, 

And I’ve learned that I’ve no right to judge: 

Whatever light I bring into the world 

Is reflected or comes through me; 

Never from me — I’m only meant to share.

Welcoming light

I watch as even the smallest flowers 

Turn their faces trustingly toward the sun, 

Petals stretched in welcome, 

Drinking in the light with their eager faces. 

Who — or what — is the light in your life?

What is it you await and greet 

With this much hope and joy?

While the sun shines...

Mid-morning, and all nature 

Dozes peacefully in the sun: 

Even the waves are still, as if to listen. 

We, on the other hand, awash in lists 

And plowing through the day’s to-dos, 

Are probably at our busiest. 

While nature’s growing hay, 

We’re busy making it...

Take yourself outside

Take yourself outside today; 

Give your brain a rest and feed your eyes; 

Let your heart and soul find space to sing.

Alien landscape

It feels like we’ve been aliens, 

Navigating this alien landscape for so long, 

That now we have the chance 

To visit our old life again, 

It no longer looks or feels like home. 

How we are changed, 

And how that will affect our return, 

Will be most interesting to watch...

Our attempted plans

No matter how desperately we try 

To add structure to our lives, 

To plan and organize our way to safety, 

Things are always falling down and rising up; 

Being hidden or exposed, 

Surprising or discouraging, 

And yet we still insist that there must be 

Some underlying pattern/ some purpose to it all, 

And try to ascertain what that might be...

Harbingers of change

Welcome, tiny harbingers of change! 

We’re grateful for your colorful presence 

In this gray, brown world: 

We’ve been hungering so long 

For color and light...

Sympathy for the trapped

These last few months, having been separated 

From one another like animals, 

Dangerous or endangered if released 

From behind the largely self-imposed fence, 

Do we not now, at the thought of freedom, 

Cringe — just a tiny bit? 

Have we not learned to sympathize — 

Just a wee bit more — 

With all those who feel trapped 

By their circumstances?

Hope rises like a bird

When through the still-bare branches 

We begin to catch a glimpse 

Of the green to come, 

Hope rises like a bird, aloft and singing 

With the promise that this long and solitary year 

May finally be coming to an end.

Yet more rivers to cross

Through the weeds of the present, 

Leafless and bare, 

We see a glimpse of a future, 

Flimsy but bright; a reassurance 

There’ll be something to stand on, 

But yet more rivers to cross...

Let the spirit within awaken

Make time today to step outside and breathe: 

Though the landscape may not yet have changed, 

The scent of Spring is in the air. 

Breathe, and let the spirit within awaken.

Seeking reassurance

Looking up at the night sky, 

Longing for a sign that what’s ahead of us 

Might be less troubling 

Than the year we’ve just been through; 

Wondering what’s been written in the stars...

Rest and be fed

There will always be those days 

When we envy the birds 

Their ability to get up, up, and away. 

But they, too, must return to earth 

For sustenance: those strong wings (and ours) 

Can only keep those spirits up 

If they —and we —make time to rest and be fed.

Light in the Forest

True: light can make all things beautiful, 

And nature can reclaim the land we waste, 

But at what cost — and how long must it take? 

We need to find a better way 

 To clean up after ourselves...

Imagine daffodils

On a cold, gray, windy day,

I close my eyes, imagine peace, 

And dream of daffodils...

Looking back

Looking back over the hills and valleys 

Of the life we were given — or chose — to live,

What is it that stands out for you? 

The losses, or the gains? 

The dark clouds or the light? 

Are you more present here and now, 

Or caught up in the forests of the past?

Hearts leap

As the air begins to fill 

With the scent of blooms, 

Our hearts leap, that inner fire 

Ignited again by the promise of Spring...

Building bridges

We, the bridge-builders, 

Have a massive task before us. 

Now is the time to gather the tools we need, 

To begin the imperative effort 

To reach out to the other side: 

Our survival depends upon our success.

Deeply rooted

We never realize how complex 

And deeply rooted our assumptions are 

Until they are exposed...

A collaborative process

Whatever we set out to create 

May not be what emerges: 

Sometimes — if not always — as writers, 

 We must let our characters guide their story, 

And sometimes — if not always — 

 As artists, and as parents, 

We must set our intentions aside 

And allow our paintings — and our children — 

To follow the path they divine to fruition.

Don’t forget to fly

We who watch so carefully, 

Guarding our possessions, our domains, 

Our reputations; always on alert 

And quick to judge — 

When will we remember that we were born to fly, 

To soar above it all, aloft and free?

Shining through

As the light from the sun turns the seas to silver, 

So the light that lives in the heart of our souls 

Makes precious metal of all it touches 

When we let it shine through us.

Vulnerability

Standing, exposed, in winter, bereft of leaves, 

Her branches bare and reaching for the sun, 

The tree is still magnificent, 

Her strength and beauty shining through; 

Her quirky bends appealing... 

Could we but be so brave, and let 

Our inner strength and quirkiness be seen, 

Our own magnificence might be revealed.

Can’t catch a break

Whenever I find myself claiming 

I just can’t catch a break, 

I try to step back and wonder 

If I’m just fishing in the wrong stream... 

Perhaps there’s someplace more conducive 

 To my particular skills...

Nature’s wisdom

Nature’s wisdom finds its echo 

In the wisdom of our hearts, 

If only we make time to look and listen...

Savoring the simple

As we slowly make our way 

Back into the world again, let us make time 

To savor all the simple joys 

We might never have noticed 

 Before our year of enforced solitude...

Colored by experience

What is it that you see? Perhaps a wallflower, 

Standing alone at the edge of the dance, 

Trapped between action and inaction 

By a sense of powerlessness or fear 

Waiting for someone else 

To come along and set her free... 

Or could it be a mother, taking 

A much-deserved, long-needed nap, 

Hoping not to be discovered 

 Until she’s had her rest? 

Perception: always colored by experience...

After the storm

Storms — whether emotional or physical — 

Tend to leave a lot of brokenness exposed. 

Cleaning up the mess that’s left behind 

Can prove exhausting, but it’s essential 

If we hope to find our way back to clarity.