That sinking feeling

Inevitably, there will be days 

When we find ourselves sinking: 

Buried in the gritty entangled sameness 

That sometimes overcomes us; 

When the stresses of survival 

And the demands of those around us drag us down. 

Instead of sinking further, or struggling to escape, 

We have another option: 

 Take a moment to stop resisting, 

 And breathe in solidarity 

With all the other souls who feel as trapped; 

Then reach inside and find that part of you 

That knows from experience this will not last, 

And breathe that confidence 

 Out into the world, 

 That other sufferers might come to trust, as you do, 

In the constancy of change 

And find the resources within 

To take whatever steps are needed 

To restore a more productive 

 Sense of balance in their lives.

Healing angels

When we’re tired and low, 

We’re largely unaware, 

 But there are angels clustered ’round us, 

Watching over us; 

Tenderly caring for us and wishing us well — 

At least, that’s how this photograph makes me feel.

A quiet space

However challenging they may seem, 

We need those clear and quiet spaces 

In our weeks and in our lives; 

Need to empty hearts and minds 

For love, inspiration, and energy to flow back in. 

Don’t be afraid to simply sit, 

Or take a walk — whatever helps you 

Breathe back into that vital space within 

That fuels your activities 

 And soothes your troubled soul.

The photographer responds

As you can see here, it’s not always beauty 

That captures a photographer’s eye: 

Sometimes it’s a color, a shape, or a line, 

A shadow, a pattern, or maybe a scrawl 

 Of a word that hints of some song 

That brings back a memory — who knows? 

But as Pasteur said, 

 Chance favors the mind that’s prepared, 

 And so we respond to the moment, trusting 

That whatever the impulse that guides us, 

There’s something that longs — 

 Or deserves — to be seen; 

An opportunity not to be missed.

Nature’s comfort

However lost and desolate we may be feeling, 

We take comfort in the timelessness of nature: 

The clouds that rise and pass away, 

The trees that shed their leaves, 

Then grow them again, 

The tides that rise and fall 

On the whims of the moon…

Sending peace and comfort

Been waiting and watching ten days 

For these glorious flowers to bloom 

And cast their scent into the air, 

And now I offer them to you,

 With affection and in sympathy 

 For whatever troubles you are bearing: 

May you find peace and comfort 

As you go about your day.

Determination

How amazing is this, 

That despite all this texture, 

The wounds and the scars, 

This is a living tree? 

The will to survive 

Is a profound and marvelous gift!

After the storm

After so stormy a night, 

It’s almost shocking to see sunlight and shadow

 Dappling a relatively pristine lawn:

 No fallen branches, no odd detritus 

 Blown over from someone else’s yard. 

How can so much sound and fury 

Leave our world untouched? 

And how can we cultivate 

 That core sense of serenity 

In our own hearts and lives?

Trust

It seems to me — a non-gardener — 

That gardening, like careers and relationships, 

Is a mix of vision, hard work, and trust: 

It helps to know what you’re working towards, 

And of course you need to work at it, 

(Plus it helps to enjoy the labor) 

But it’s also critical to believe it’s possible: 

To trust in your own ability to succeed, 

And to trust that circumstances 

 Will tend to work in your favor: 

It’s trust that allows you to adjust and adapt 

Even in the face of serious setbacks. 

And when you lose trust — what then?

Patience

Patience.

 If you stay focused, long enough, 

On those who can provide 

What you’re looking for, 

Eventually they’ll roll their eyes, 

Say, “Alright, alright, 

I’ll bring you what you’re looking for,” 

And deliver the goods — at least, 

That’s what the deer believe!

Time to get out from under

There seems to be some sort of large weight 

Holding you back. 

I‘m not sure how it got there:

 Did you put it there yourself to feel secure,

 Or to prevent loss? 

Or is someone or something else tying you down? 

At any rate, you might need help 

Getting out from under:

 Don’t be afraid to ask —

 A spirit as colorful as yours 

Deserves to float freely!

Simple pleasures

For years now, scenes like this have called to me, 

And whenever I have the chance to shoot

 Images like this, my eyes and heart 

Begin to sing a happy song of joy, 

Rejoicing in the perfect balance 

Of simplicity, clarity, turbulence, and color.

We need you

I know that you have heard this before,

 But I want to remind you: 

You are unique, 

And the world needs your unique 

Perspective and contribution 

 To help it on its way 

To wholeness; to completion.

Choices

On a cold and windy day, we chose 

To walk beside the sea; we chose 

To walk inside the sound of waves, 

The bitter air, the salted cry of gulls, 

The rocks beneath our feet, the damp, 

And speak of love, that warms and shelters 

When it thrives but cuts when knives 

Like thoughtless words slice through 

And magnify the wind, the cold 

Until no jacket’s warm enough 

To protect us from the frost of loss; 

Until we choose — a conscious choice — 

To walk away, alone.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Today’s a good day to remember

 Love is a verb: 

Not just something we give, or get, or long for,

 But something we do...

The subtle shades of winter

Though the days are growing longer, 

It’s still winter, and the setting sun 

Still hides behind our trees. 

We catch glimpses, but the full effect 

Is lost to us until the weather warms. 

It’s nature’s way of teaching us 

Patience, and delayed gratification: 

The subtler shades of winter, 

Like the bones beneath the leaves 

And the bare dirt in the garden, 

Whet our appetites for Spring.

Time to center once again

It’s good to stop and orient yourself; 

To find your center once again 

And reacquaint yourself with all 

The possible directions life might take — 

Because, no matter how it looks 

From this particular perspective, 

There are still choices you can make 

That might enrich, not just your days, 

But the lives of those around you. 

Breathe deep, and breathe, and breathe again, 

And let wisdom find its way into your heart.

What if a door?

What if a door you’d always thought 

Was closed to you were suddenly to open? 

What if the answer to your prayers 

Lay just inside, and all you had to do 

Was knock, or push, or pull? 

What if the key were right there in your hands: 

What then? Would you hesitate,

 Or boldly step right up and in? 

Or — and this often happens— 

Would you fail to even notice the opportunity, 

And walk on by, lost in a fog 

Of past and future imaginings?

To gently guide

Each of us, grounded as we are 

In layers of experience, 

Crafted over time into stories that we tell, 

Has a unique opportunity 

 To be the rock; the guide, the firm foundation 

 For someone else’s journey; 

To help prevent missteps or gently offer 

Encouragement for those who stumble. 

That said, we must stay humble, 

For that journey is still theirs, 

And theirs alone.

Choosing when to leave

From certain points on your path, 

However rocky it might be, 

The cost of entry to make a change 

Might prove extremely steep. 

Perhaps, in such cases, 

It may be wiser to continue as you are 

Until an easier exit presents itself…

Those who prepared the way

How often do we remember to thank 

Those who create, smooth, and protect 

The paths we choose to travel? 

Perhaps we could take a moment today 

To honor the efforts 

 Of those who’ve gone before us…

Fostering blooms

Whenever I forget to water this plant, 

She throws off flowers — 

A gentle reminder, perhaps, 

That the best way to support another 

Is not to hover, but simply 

To be there when you’re asked or needed, 

Giving them the space to bloom on their own…

Distractions

I sat in class, bored, 

And was distracted by the textures 

 Of the trees outside our window, 

Their bark so gloriously wrinkled by time; 

Their roots so broadly anchored in the earth. 

I kept wanting to take their picture 

While the light was still so perfect — 

Knowing, as one does at this age, 

That light, while it highlights 

The depth of those wrinkles, is a gift, 

 And fades all too fast. 

I confess I was grateful to escape 

 And focus on the trees…

A different perspective

I don’t know about you, 

But I seem to identify with the bird on the left — 

Which has both positive and negative aspects. 

It makes me a bit of a skeptic: 

 When everyone else is busy admiring 

 I tend to look for the man behind the curtain. 

Plus I’m not so aware of current news and trends. 

That said, it can sometimes be a gift 

To look at life from a different angle …

Color in our tears

We delight in the ephemeral magic of rainbows, 

The arc of color they bring to our eyes; 

The promise of sunshine to follow the rain. 

But the rain is the gift that makes it all possible: 

Without it the light would simply be white — 

Which is not to insist we find joy in our sorrow, 

But simply to suggest that the gift in our tears 

Is the intensity of color they bring to our joys.

Closed doors

There will always be doors that are closed to us 

And multiple ways to respond: 

By walking away, knocking, or hammering;

 Using a battering ram or blowing it up; 

Figuring out who has the key 

 And befriending them — 

 Or pretending you’re someone you’re not 

In attempt to gain access 

 (Rarely the wisest of choices.) 

The important thing to remember is this: 

That closed door doesn’t reflect on you, 

Or make you less of a person.

Echoes from the past

I set myself an exercise: 

To do a series of alphabet paintings 

 And watch what might flow through 

Onto the canvas. 

 Though I might hope, 

I’m not expecting to see great art, 

But rather insight into what surprises 

 Might emerge within set boundaries. 

That said, I am astonished to discover, 

Having accidentally chosen 

To place the letter K at the end of a bar of color, 

That the stripes of white I added seem to imply 

That the word THINK is hidden underneath — 

A word my father (who worked for IBM) 

Had posted throughout the house 

When I was growing up. 

 How odd, to see such echoes from my past…

Slowdowns we encounter

I know: not the most attractive scene!

 But not everything is pretty in this world: 

There will be times when we’re uprooted — 

When life’s uprooted: 

When familiar pathways close, 

And we have to really watch our step. 

But those unexpected challenges 

Might also be an invitation to slow down; 

To take a closer look at your surroundings 

 And find a way to appreciate the texture 

And the color of what is…