Inspirational Poetry


spiritual poetryThe Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.
Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

~Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks


You’re Beautiful, Turn on the Light

I am the light and I look for you,

its OK to seek something new.

Don’t let things get you down,

find a way to move beyond the frown.

You’re beautiful,

for some yet unknown shadowed reasons,

you fail to see that yourself.

Amongst this crazy world with all its greed,
 hatred and dis-honesty,
is someone who is beautiful, honest and loving.

Somehow having lived with the evil for so long,

I think you may have thought the only way is their way,

lie, cheat and be fraudulent,
the way we have all been accustomed to,

the darkness we call home.

In your heart you know this is not the way,

knowing this is not true,

hence the struggle to think and feel for yourself.

For this is scary, it is new for you.

I know you’re beautiful, if you reside in the light,

where everything is alright your fire will re-alight.

In the mysterious folds of your mind,

I think you have come a little used to
the walls you have built around you,

nowhere else seems safe.
You’re beautiful, but when I knock at that door,

you never feel your beauty, so you don’t answer.

When reaching out to you,

makes you move further away.

My only hope is that some day you too,
will know you are beautiful.

I am the light and I look for you,
its ok to seek something new.

~Ian Scott


This Love

Those who don’t feel this Love
pulling them like a river,
those who don’t drink dawn
like a cup of spring water
or take in sunset like supper,
those who don’t want to change,
let them sleep.

This Love is beyond the study of theology,
that old trickery and hypocrisy.
I you want to improve your mind that way,
sleep on.

I’ve given up on my brain.
I’ve torn the cloth to shreds
and thrown it away.

If you’re not completely naked,
wrap your beautiful robe of words
around you,
and sleep.

~Rumi, Published in ‘Like This’, translated by Coleman Barks, 1990


Dare to Be

When a new day begins, dare to smile gratefully.
When there is darkness, dare to be the first to shine a light.
When there is injustice, dare to be the first to condemn it.
When something seems difficult, dare to do it anyway.
When life seems to beat you down, dare to fight back.
When there seems to be no hope, dare to find some.
When you’re feeling tired, dare to keep going.
When times are tough, dare to be tougher.
When love hurts you, dare to love again.
When someone is hurting, dare to help them heal.
When another is lost, dare to help them find the way.
When a friend falls, dare to be the first to extend a hand.
When you cross paths with another, dare to make them smile.
When you feel great, dare to help someone else feel great too.
When the day has ended, dare to feel as you’ve done your best.
Dare to be the best you can –
At all times, Dare to be!

~Steve Maraboli, Life, the Truth, and Being Free


One Step at a Time

Rows of ragged rocks outline a path for healing?

Brown, decaying leaves hug the winter ground – a blanket to transform?

The labyrinth awaits the sojourner–
almost calls her name–
Will you enter my simple boundaries and journey my paths
One Step at a Time?

Straight ahead, yet winding and crooked
The curled road beckons to be trod — reinforcing the uplifted
blessing the downtrodden
Maybe tears, maybe joy, maybe peace
One Step at a Time.

All who are heavy laden, come stand at the gate
All who are fragmented, place one foot down
and the other in front
All who find wonder in the commonplace,
Come travel the narrow rows
One Step at a Time.

Give up your burdens, your middle of the night worries
Lay a care on a silver, craggly rock as you pass
and move on to the next, the monotony will soothe you
One Step at a Time.

Moving inward,
The trail winds in and out
Muscles untensing,
The walker’s job seems easy,
The cares tumble down
and hit the ground with imagined force lightening the load on contact
One Step at a Time.

Step 48, step 49, many more follow while curling toward center like a snail into its shell
Motionless at last,
a wooden cross is sighted,
God’s presence overwhelms and envelopes the inner sanctum–
His peace now a cloister on the journey half over
One Step at a Time.

The pause to discover
new perspectives to ponder
fresh eyes, lightened heart
the world is a wonder
with steps unencumbered
the pilgrimage rewinds
One Step at a Time.

The breathing is slower the feet touch down lower,
and easier on the road well-worn
The unknown, now familiar the end is the beginning the sad is now glory
All happening unexpectedly
One Step at a Time.

A twist inward
A transformation outward
A fresh view from fatigued eyes
All part of a simple design of much complexity
with the whole greater than the sum of the steps
All the while traveling
One Step at a Time.

~Suzanne Moody, Copyright © 1999


Auguries of Innocence

To see a World in a grain of sand,
And a Heaven in a wild flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand,
And Eternity in an hour.

~William Blake


The Guardian Angel Prayer

Angel of God,
my guardian dear,
to whom His love
entrusts me here,
ever this day [night]
be at my side
to light and guard,
to rule and guide.


~Scott P. Richert


‘Hope’ is the Thing with Feathers

‘Hope’ is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops – at all

And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm

I’ve heard it in the chillest land
And on the strangest Sea
Yet – never – in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of me.

~Emily Dickinson, from The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson


Mother Nature

Nature, the gentlest mother,
Impatient of no child,
The feeblest or the waywardest,
Her admonition mild

In forest and the hill
By traveller is heard,
Restraining rampant squirrel
Or too impetuous bird.

How fair her conversation,
A summer afternoon,
Her household, her assembly;
And when the sun goes down

Her voice among the aisles
Incites the timid prayer
Of the minutest cricket,
The most unworthy flower.

When all the children sleep
She turns as long away
As will suffice to light her lamps;
Then, bending from the sky

With infinite affection
And infiniter care,
Her golden finger on her lip,
Wills silence everywhere.

~Emily Dickinson



Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you,
If you leave it you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.

~David Wagoner



we may never know
how we hold
all we can
or how the light catches us
when we are out of breath

it’s a sign of healing
to be feeling again

the real breakthrough
can only arise
from heartbreak

that which ails
reminding us
that it’s always about beginning again

as the waves crash me
i trust the sand
to polish my edges smooth
dissolving denial
revealing real while
courage and confidence
ignite my core

contraction and expansion
let the light stream in
and the stillness
after so much thrashing about
allows the body to wring
the sorrow out

as freedom floods
shadows may persist
know your undertow
as you alchemize the dark
and remember
that you always have
the strength to choose
how to engage

the clouds unveil the view
when you are ready to climb
now it’s time to notice
the miraculous moments
in your life
as they are happening

is the making
of me
and we will walk
into daybreak
from the night
shining our light

~Nancy Levin, author of Writing for My Life


Please Call Me By My True Names

Don’t say that I will depart tomorrow–even today I am still arriving.

Look deeply: every second I am arriving to be a bud on a Spring branch, to be a tiny bird, with still-fragile wings, learning to sing in my new nest, to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower, to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone.

I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry, to fear and to hope. The rhythm of my heart is the birth and death of all that is alive.

I am a mayfly metamorphosing on the surface of the river. And I am the bird that swoops down to swallow the mayfly.

I am a frog swimming happily in the clear water of a pond. And I am the grass-snake that silently feeds itself on the frog.

I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones, my legs as thin as bamboo sticks. And I am the arms merchant, selling deadly weapons to Uganda.

I am the twelve-year-old girl, refugee on a small boat, who throws herself into the ocean after being raped by a sea pirate. And I am the pirate, my heart not yet capable of seeing and loving.

I am a member of the politburo, with plenty of power in my hinds. And I am the man who has to pay his ‘debt of blood’ to my people dying slowly in a forced-labor camp.

My joy is like Spring, so warm it makes flowers bloom all over the Earth. My pain is like a river of tears, so vast it fills the four oceans.

Please call me by my true names, so I can hear all my cries and laughter at once, so I can see that my joy and pain are one.

Please call me by my true names, so I can wake up and the door of my heart could be left open, the door of compassion.

~Thich Nhat Hanh


All the Hemispheres

Leave the familiar for a while.
Let your senses and bodies stretch out

Like a welcomed season
Onto the meadows and shores and hills.

Open up to the Roof.
Make a new water-mark on your excitement
And love.

Like a blooming night flower,
Bestow your vital fragrance of happiness
And giving
Upon our intimate assembly.

Change rooms in your mind for a day.

All the hemispheres in existence
Lie beside an equator
In your heart.

Greet Yourself
In your thousand other forms
As you mount the hidden tide and travel
Back home.

All the hemispheres in heaven
Are sitting around a fire

While stitching themselves together
Into the Great Circle inside of



The Victor

If you think you are beaten, you are.
If you think you dare not, you don’t.
If you like to win but think you can’t,
It’s almost a cinch you won’t.
If you think you’ll lose, you’re lost.
For out in the world we find
Success begins with a fellow’s will.
It’s all in the state of mind.
If you think you are out classed, you are.
You’ve got to think high to rise.
You’ve got to be sure of your-self before
You can ever win the prize.
Life’s battles don’t always go
To the stronger or faster man.
But sooner or later, the man who wins
Is the man who thinks he can.

~C.W. Longenecker


A Crystal Rim

Lifts its glass to the sun
And light — light
Is poured.

A bird
Comes and sits on a crystal rim
And from my forest cave I
Hear singing.

So I run to the edge of existence
And join my soul in love.

I lift my heart to God
And grace is poured.

An emerald bird rises from inside me
And now sits
Upon the Beloved’s

I have left that dark cave forever.
My body has blended with His.

I lay my wing
As a bridge to you

So that you can join us

(translated by Daniel Ladinsky)


Do What You Love

This is your life.
Do what you love, and do it often.
If you don’t like something, change it.
If you don’t like your job, quit.
If you don’t have enough time, stop watching TV.
If you are looking for the love of your life, stop;
they will be waiting for you when you start doing things you love.
Stop overanalyzing, life is simple.
All emotions are beautiful.
When you eat, appreciate every last bite.
Open your mind, arms and heart to new things and people,
we are united in our differences.
Ask the next person you see what their passion is,
and share your inspiring dream with them.
Travel often; getting lost will help you find yourself.
Some opportunities only come once, seize them.
Life is about the people you meet, and the things you create with them,
so go out and start creating.
Life is short.
Live your dream, and wear your passion.

~The Holstee Manifesto, Copyright © 2009


A Community of the Spirit

There is a community of the spirit.
Join it, and feel the delight
of walking in the noisy street
and being the noise.
Drink all your passion,
and be a disgrace.
Close both eyes
to see with the other eye.
Open your hands,
if you want to be held.
Sit down in the circle.
Quit acting like a wolf, and feel
the shepherd’s love filling you.
At night, your beloved wanders.
Don’t accept consolations.
Close your mouth against food.
Taste the lover’s mouth in yours.
You moan, “She left me.” “He left me.”
Twenty more will come.
Be empty of worrying.
Think of who created thought!
Why do you stay in prison
when the door is so wide open?
Move outside the tangle of fear-thinking.
Live in silence.
Flow down and down in always
widening rings of being.



Stillness Speaks

There is a life-force within your soul, seek that life.
There is a gem in the mountain of your body, seek that mine.
O traveler, if you are in search of That
Don’t look outside, look inside yourself and seek That.

This aloneness is worth more than a thousand lives.
This freedom is worth more than all the lands on earth.
To be one with the truth for just a moment,
Is worth more than the world and life itself.




Oh, weary heart, laden with earth’s weight and care,
Oh, feet stumbling on the way, bleeding and bare,
Oh, arms outstretched, and hands upheld in prayer,
Oh, back, which so oft has felt the lash and rod,
Oh, soul, which cries aloud for the living God,
Oh, life, struggling to free itself from the clod;
Know this: there is no power from without,
Yourself  must answer every fear and meet all doubt
With some divine, indwelling power
Which you yourself, upon yourself, shall shower;
And giving, take, and taking, give
Unto that life which you, yourself, shall live.

~Ernest Holmes


A Tear & A Smile

I would not exchange the sorrows of my heart
For the joys of the multitude.
And I would not have the tears that sadness makes
To flow from my every part turn into laughter.

I would that my life remain a tear and a smile.

A tear to purify my heart and give me understanding
Of life’s secrets and hidden things.
A smile to draw me nigh to the sons of my kind and
To be a symbol of my glorification of the gods.

A tear to unite me with those of broken heart;
A smile to be a sign of my joy in existence.

I would rather that I died in yearning and longing than that I live
Weary and despairing.

I want the hunger for love and beauty to be in the
Depths of my spirit, for I have seen those who are
Satisfied the most wretched of people.
I have heard the sigh of those in yearning and
Longing, and it is sweeter than the sweetest melody.

With evening’s coming the flower folds her petals
And sleeps, embracingher longing.
At morning’s approach she opens her lips to meet
The sun’s kiss.

The life of a flower is longing and fulfillment.
A tear and a smile.

The waters of the sea become vapor and rise and come
Together and area cloud.

And the cloud floats above the hills and valleys
Until it meets the gentle breeze, then falls weeping
To the fields and joins with brooks and rivers to
Return to the sea, its home.

The life of clouds is a parting and a meeting.
A tear and a smile.

And so does the spirit become separated from
The greater spirit to move in the world of matter
And pass as a cloud over the mountain of sorrow
And the plains of joy to meet the breeze of death
And return whence it came.

To the ocean of Love and Beauty…to God.

~Khalil Gibran


The Freshness

When it’s cold and raining,
you are more beautiful.

And the snow brings me
even closer to your lips.

The inner secret, that which was never born,
you are that freshness, and I am with you now.

I can’t explain the goings,
or the comings. You enter suddenly,

and I am nowhere again.
Inside the majesty.

(translated by Coleman Barks in Soul of Rumi)


‘No Rules’

There are no rules now.
You who bore me, taught me, raised me,
Mother, Father, friends, lovers,
You are my brothers and sisters now.

All that you taught me to help me in life
Is no longer true, unless I find it so.
Your truths for you, mine for me.

But I, being some part child still,
Grieve for the missing parents to be no more,
Nor to be a parent myself.
No longer even a child of God but co-creator.

This is frightening.
This is glorious.

~Jane Bishop



Enlightenment is like the moon reflected on the water.
The moon does not get wet, nor is the water broken.
Although its light is wide and great,
The moon is reflected even in a puddle an inch wide.
The whole moon and the entire sky
Are reflected in one dewdrop on the grass.



A Necessary Autumn

You and I have spoken all these words, but as for the way
we have to go, words are no preparation. There is no getting ready, other than grace. My faults have stayed hidden. One might call that a preparation! I have one small drop of knowing in my soul. Let it dissolve in your ocean. There are so many threats to it.

Inside each of us, there’s continual autumn. Our leaves fall and are blown out over the water. A crow sits in the blackened limbs and talks about what’s gone. Then your generosity returns: spring, moisture, intelligence, the scent of hyacinth and rose and cypress. Joseph is back! And if you don’t feel in yourself the freshness of Joseph, be Jacob! Weep and then smile. Don’t pretend to know something you haven’t experienced.

There’s a necessary dying, and then Jesus is breathing again. Very little grows on jagged rock. Be ground. Be crumbled, so wildflowers will come up where you are. You’ve been stony for too many years. Try something different. Surrender.



Where the Mind is Without Fear

Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high
Where knowledge is free
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments
By narrow domestic walls
Where words come out from the depth of truth
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way
Into the dreary desert sand of dead habit
Where the mind is led forward by thee
Into ever-widening thought and action
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake

~Rabindranath Tagore



Courage is the price that
Life exacts for granting peace.

The soul that knows it not,
Knows no release from little things:
Knows not the livid loneliness of fear,
Nor mountain heights where bitter joy can hear the sound of wings.

Nor can life grant us boon of living, compensate
For dull gray ugliness and pregnant hate
Unless we dare
The soul’s dominion.
Each time we make a choice, we pay
With courage to behold the resistless day,
And count it fair.

~Amelia Earhart



Running to, running from,
Running away, running home,
Running until I find myself.
My heart pounds, I gasp for breath.
Running until I hear God’s voice,
“You are home, you are safe, you are divine.”
The running is over, my heart slows,
I breathe easily.

~Shared in Dr. Bernie Siegel’s book, 365 Prescriptions for the Soul


Rumi, On Oneness

If you put your heart against the earth with me,
in serving every creature,
our Beloved will enter you from our sacred realm
and we will be,
we will be so happy.



I Shall Be Glad

If I can put new hope within the heart
Of one who has lost hope,
If I can help a brother up
Some difficult long slope
That seems too steep for tired feet to go,
If I can help him climb
Into the light upon the hill’s far crest,
I shall begrudge no time
Or strength that I spend,
For well I know
How great may be his need.
If I can help through any
Darkened hour, I shall be glad indeed.

For I recall how often I have been
Distressed, distraught, dismayed,
And hands have reached to help,
And voices called
That kept me unafraid.
If I can share this help that
I have had, God knows I shall be glad.

~Grace Noll Crowell


The Flow of Life

If the sky above seems cloudy,
And you are left out in the rain,
If you are searching for a rainbow,
But the colors bring you pain,
If your world is not revolving,
And there is no end in sight,
If you are looking for the sunshine,
But all you see is night,
If all around are smiling,
But all you can do is frown,
If you are tired of all this living,
When life just brings you down,

Then look beyond your teardrops,
At the wonders of this land,
The beauty of a flower,
Like velvet in your hand.
Feel the air around you,
The smell of new mown hay,
Laughing children in the park,
The innocence there at play,

Imagine floating with a butterfly,
As she flutters between the trees,
Or the whispers of the ocean,
On warm hot summer’s breeze,
Think of the taste of candy floss,
As it melts upon your tongue,
Or the melody of morning birds,
As they greet each day with song,
Remember words of beauty,
Told in your mother’s embrace,
Feel the gentleness of her touch,
As she softly kissed your face,

Seek the good within you,
Cast the clouds from your sky,
Don’t look toward the pavement,
But hold your head up high,
Think not what life owes you,
But of all you have to give,
Forget about tomorrow,
Then you can start to live.

So Bless this age your are living in,
With the gifts you can bestow,
Don’t disregard the stream of life,
Go gently with the flow.

~Author unknown


The Nocturnal Wind

Pink the aroma of the flowers
And blue the iridescent brilliance of the Mind
Inert is the water of emotions
Calm is the peace in the Heart

Crescent waves of twilight dawn
That circumvent the Present Moment
Rich in views are one’s devotion
Of the dream passage at its own rhythm

Many faces turn Inside
Searching for the only Mind
Vibrant the sea of knowledge Is
Bestow upon the golden night of the human Heart

Once again is time to fly
High above the Empty night
Soul recover searches Light
Mind you business says the Heart

Let thy Light be as you Are
Changing glorious in the Night
Trembling also is the Heart
When the mind travel so far

Come and sit in peace with Me
Change the color and raise you sleeve
So simple is the Pure Heart
Open wide before you Die




The world of nature exists
 within a larger pattern of cycles,
such as day and night 
and the passing of the seasons.
The seasons do not push one another;
neither do clouds race the wind across the sky;
all things happen in good time;
everything has a time to rise, and a time to fall.
Whatever rises, falls,
and whatever falls shall rise again;
that is the principle of cycles.

~Dan Millman



from this liminal state
we are reborn
into a threshold between worlds

through the fabric of fog
a map for another way
presents itself
we see – in a flash – how life could be

can we return to what is familiar
and make it new
finding mystery in comfort
or do we embark upon
the adventurous sensuous

to the acceleration of self-discovery
that can only come
from encouraging the emergence
of dormant forces
embracing this vantage point
let the past be memory

this pause
between present and future
is the alchemy
that will wake us
unlock us
transform us

there is barely a moment
even in morning twilight
when i forget
to remember
the shift is happening

i am a light in the harbor
leaving the weight
of the past at sea
change is my anchor
deep inside
peace is so close

~Nancy Levin, Copyright © 2010 | Nancy is the author of Writing for My Life


A Healing Prayer

Dear Spirit,

I ask that you make your presence known here and now, for I am very frightened and don’t know what to do or how to handle things. Please infuse my being with your light, surround me with your love, that I may be lifted up and carried by your grace. Whisper into my thinking the inspirations that will help me through this. Help me to be clear and calm. Embolden my heart with the courage to stay present and connected, for I know that in that presence lies my healing. I ask you to guide me, and everyone involved in this situation, every step of the way. Lift my spirit into a higher vibration that I might grow from this experience and become my greatest potential. Let there be a miracle. I am open and willing to have a miracle occur. Let the healer within me rise and take charge. I thank you in advance as I know that it is already so.

~Kathy Freston, Quantum Wellness


I Am

I, the fiery light of divine wisdom,
I ignite the beauty of the plains,
I sparkle the waters.
I burn the sun and moon and the stars,
With wisdom I order all rightly.
I adorn the earth.
I am the breeze that nurtures all things green.
I am the rain coming from the dew
That causes the grasses to laugh
With the joy of life.
I call forth tears, the aroma of holy work.
I am the yearning for good.

~Hildegard of Bingen (1098-1179)


May My Heart Always Be Open

may my heart always be open to little
birds who are the secrets of living
whatever they sing is better than to know
and if men should not hear them men are old

may my mind stroll about hungry
and fearless and thirsty and supple
and even if it’s sunday may i be wrong
for whenever men are right they are not young

and may myself do nothing usefully
and love yourself so more than truly
there’s never been quite such a fool who could fail
pulling all the sky over him with one smile

~E.E. Cummings


Inner Light

When we live in darkness, our human life is a constant want.

When we live in Light, our divine life is a constant achievement.

Light in the physical is beauty.

Light in the vital is capacity.

Light in the mind is glory.

Light in the heart is victory.

~Sri Chinmoy



I honour the place in you

In which the universe dwells.

I honour the place in you which is

Of love and of truth, of light and of peace.

When you are in that place in you, and

I am in that place in me,

We Are One.

~Ancient Sanskrit blessing


The Immortal Friend (excerpt)

I sat dreaming in a room of great silence.

The early morning was still and breathless,

The great blue mountains stood against the dark

skies, cold and clear,

Round the dark log house

The black and yellow birds were welcoming the sun.

I sat on the floor, with legs crossed, meditating,

Forgetting the sunlit mountains,

The birds,

The immense silence,

And the golden sun.

I lost the feel of my body,

My limbs were motionless,

Relaxed and at peace.

A great joy of unfathomable depth filled my heart.

Eager and keen was my mind, concentrated.

Lost to the transient world,

I was full of strength.

As the eastern breeze

That suddenly springs into being

And calms the weary world,

There in front of me

Seated cross-legged,

As the world knows Him

In His yellow robes, simple and magnificent,

Was the Teacher of Teachers.

Looking at me,

Motionless the Mighty Being sat.

I looked and bowed my head.

My body bent forward of itself.

That one look

Showed the progress of the world,

Showed the immense distance between the world

And the greatest of its Teachers.

How little it understood,

And how much He gave.

How joyously He soared,

Escaping from birth and death,

From its tyranny and entangling wheel.

Enlightenment attained,

He gave to the world, as the flower gives

Its scent,

The Truth.

As I looked

At the sacred feet that once trod the happy

Dust of India,

My heart poured forth its devotion,

Limitless and unfathomable,

Without restraint and without effort.

~Jiddu Krishnamurti


The Universe

What if someone said to an embryo in the womb,

Outside of your world of black nothing

is a miraculously ordered universe;

a vast Earth covered with tasty food;

mountains, oceans and plains,

fragrant orchards and fields full of crops;

a luminous sky beyond your reach,

with a sun, moonbeams, and uncountable stars;

and there are winds from south, north and west,

and gardens replete with sweet flowers

like a banquet at a wedding feast.

The wonders of this world are beyond description.

What are you doing living in a dark prison,

Drinking blood through that narrow tube?

But the womb-world is all an embryo knows

And it would not be particularly impressed

By such amazing tales, saying dismissively:

You’re crazy. That is all a deluded fantasy.

One day you will look back and laugh at yourself.

You’ll say, I can’t believe I was so asleep!

How did I ever forget the truth?

How ridiculous to believe that sadness and sickness

Are anything other than bad dreams.



The Most Beautiful Flower

The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read,
beneath the long straggly branches of an old willow tree.
Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown,
for the world was intent on dragging me down.
And if that weren’t enough to ruin my day,
a young boy, out of breath, approached me, all tired from play.
He stood right before me with his head tilted down, and said
with great excitement, “Look what I’ve found!”

In his hand was a flower, and what a pitiful site,
with its pedals all worn out, not enough rain or too little light.
Wanting the young boy to take his dead flower and run off and play,
I faked a small smile and then shifted away.

But instead of retreating he sat next to my side, and placed
the flower into his nose and declared with overactive surprise,
“It sure smells pretty, and it’s beautiful too,
that’s why I picked it, here, it’s for you.”

The weed before me was dying or dead,
not vibrant of colour, orange, yellow or red.
But I knew I must take it, or he might never leave!
So I reached for the flower and said, “Just what I need.”

But instead of placing the flower in my hand,
he held it in mid-air without any reason or plan.
It was then that I noticed for the very first time,
that weed toting boy could not see, he was blind.

I heard my voice quiver, tears shone like the sun,
as I thanked him for picking the very best one.

“You’re welcome,” he smiled and then ran off to play;
unaware of the impact he had on my day.
I sat there and wondered how he managed to see,
a self-pitying woman under an old willow tree.
How did he know of my self-indulged plight?
Perhaps from his heart he had blessed with true sight.

Through the eyes of a blind child at last I could see,
the problem wasn’t with the world, the problem was me.
And for all those times I, myself, had been blind, I vowed
to see the beauty in life, and appreciate every second that’s mine.

And then I held that wilted flower up to my nose,
and breathed in the fragrance of a beautiful rose, and smiled
as I watched that young boy, another weed in his hand,
about to change the life of an unsuspecting old man.

~Cheryl L. Costello-Forshey



Stillness soars as a mountain peak,
Seeking its greatness in height.
Movement stops in a silent lake,
Seeking in depth its limit.
The fish in the water is silent,
the animals on the earth are noisy,
the bird in the air is singing.
But man has in him the silence of the sea,
the noise of the earth
and the music of the air.
There is a point where in the mystery of
existence contradictions meet;
where movement is not all movement
and stillness is not all stillness;
where the idea and the form,
the within and the without, are united;
where infinite becomes finite,
yet not losing its infinity.

~Rabindranath Tagore



Colouring outside the lines is scary business.
Some days, I don’t have the courage for it at all.

On my big, bold days though,
I like to let my red crayon just streak across the lines.
Out there with my purple…
In perfect freedom,

Colouring outside the lines is lonely too!
I’m the only one who doesn’t get a gold star on my paper.
The teacher frowns.
The kids call me weird or dumb or stupid.

Why don’t they see that I’m not behind them,
I’m actually out in front,

It would be nice to have a friend who would
Colour outside the lines sometimes too.



Eternal Now

Take a moment
to check and see if you are actually here.

Before there is right and wrong,
we are just here.
Before there is good or bad, or unworthy,
and before there is the sinner or the saint,
we are just here.
Just meet here, where silence is—
where the stillness inside dances.
Just here, before knowing something, or not knowing.
Just meet here where all points of view
merge into one point,
and the one point disappears.

Just see if you can meet right now
where you touch the eternal,
and feel the eternal living and dying at each moment.
Just to meet here—
before you were an expert,
before you were beginner.
To just be here,
where you are what you always will be,
where you will never add anything to this,
or subtract anything.

Meet here, where you want nothing,
and where you are nothing.
The here that is unspeakable.
Where we meet only mystery to mystery,
or we don’t meet at all.
Meet here where you find yourself
by not finding yourself.
In this place where quietness is deafening,
and the stillness moves too fast to catch it.

Meet here where you are what you want
and you want you what you are
and everything falls away into radiant emptiness.



Hafiz ~ On the Sun

All this time
The sun never says to the earth,

“You owe

What happens
With a love like that,
It lights the



Poetry of Angels

Ever felt an angel’s breath in the gentle breeze?
A teardrop in the falling rain?
Hear a whisper amongst the rustle of leaves?
Or been kissed by a lone snowflake?
Nature is an angel’s favorite hiding place.

~Carrie Latet


Autobiography in Five Short Chapters

I walk, down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost…I am hopeless.
It isn’t my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don’t see it.
I fall in again.
I can’t believe I’m in the same place.
But, it isn’t my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in…it’s a habit.
My eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.

I walk down another street.

~Copyright © 1980 Portia Nelson


An Artist’s Prayer

Oh Great Creator,
We are gathered together in your name
That we may be of greater service to you
And to our fellows.
We offer ourselves to you as instruments.
We open ourselves to your creativity in our lives.
We surrender to you our old ideas.
We welcome your new and more expansive ideas.
We trust that you will lead us.
We trust that it is safe to follow you.
We know that you created us and that creativity
Is your nature and our own.
We ask you to unfold our lives
According to your plan, not our low self-worth.
Help us to believe that it is not too late
And that we are not too small or flawed
To be healed ~
By you and through each other ~ and made whole.
Help us to love one another,
To nurture each other’s unfolding,
To encourage each other’s growth,
And understand each other’s fears.
Help us to know that we are not alone,
That we are loved and lovable.
Help us to create as an act of worship to you.

~Julia Cameron, The Artist’s Way



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