Their love spanned decades and is still going even now as they near the end. Even now when they are no longer able to speak to each other. Hold each other. Smell the scent of each others breath. Even now when they each lie in separate beds being tended to by strangers whose compassion is not able to save them from their final breaths. Even now when their end is near.
To Jan and Jim whose eyes, smiles and hearts touched me so deeply. I miss you. I love you. Until we meet again.
She waits for him to come and take her away, to pull her out roots and all, from the only place she’s known. To remove the memories, the familiar places she still visits, because she can’t. She can’t remove them.
She waits for his new love to heal her. To open her and bring her to where she knows she should be. To complete the accent.
She waits for him to join her in the work. The light. The love. The help meant to raise vibrations and lift hearts.
Soggy, shredded, moist from the most recent deluge of rain a log fallen and seemingly lifeless and rotting, instead it sits like a cave on a plateau, high above the denseness of the earth, the forest floor. In it, new growth takes hold and life begins. Life in a most unlikely place.
When I look at this it gives me courage. It makes me think that anything is possible. It gives me hope that my dreams will come true.
May life sprout. May it take hold in a dark cold wet place within you and give you courage. May your dreams come true.
New growth casting a strong shadow at the base of its elder whose bark is peeled and crusty and its trunk, at first curved onto something solid and safe, but then upright and confident, enabling it to create something new.
Sometimes we do not know what we’re doing or where we’re going and we bend and curve to what is asked of us not realizing that we’re just a crooked old tree until light, knowledge hits us and we reach up and create something new.
Are you playing it safe or are you reaching and creating?
Light filtering on scalloped edges and veins creating new images. Some broad. Some clear.
Each day brings a new light and with it the opportunity to create something new in your life. It doesn’t matter if it’s a broad or narrow approach as long as you continue to reach and to grow, so that the light is able to filter through you and onto others.
The next generation with wondrous eyes and trusting hearts whose unhardened tips are still kelly green and soft. They have yet to taste bitterness, hardship or disappointment.
They stand before us trusting we will love and nurture, shed our experiences and wisdom like a delicate bed of pine needles, encompassing and sheltering their future.
They stand before us expecting a fertile and viable soil to cultivate, just as we expected of our elders who believed in us enough to honor and preserve the earth.
They stand before us and ask that we give them the same opportunities that were given to us, and to love and cherish the land and each other, so that they can have thick bark and strong deep roots to endure the storms, and lasting branches of foliage green with energy from the sun.
A gentle warm breeze infused with pine and hemlock reminded her to breathe, to come back from wave upon wave of thought. Some important but most not.
She knew that this moment was all that she really had. She was determined take her spirituality seriously this time because she could feel a strong connection to her higher self, that eternal self, calling to her with each and every moment. She made the eternal self promise to keep calling her.
She knew it would be more difficult in the beginning, to stand in the present moment. That maintaining the holy instant was kind of like trying to balance on the head of a pin but she didn’t care. She wanted this.
Slick rock and wet leaves surrounding roots like toes curled in boots of tension and indecisive actions. Days of spring rain falling, half of you still a clear thought, amidst an exhausting amount of hopeful wishes.
How does this happen? How can it rain for days, soak everything around you but somehow half of you stays dry?
It’s because of your canopy. The depth of layered foliage that you’ve managed to grow and nurture. The learned responses to stress or unfamiliar moments that help you to become strong and thick.
It’s because of your tribe. Those that surround you and stay tight to your outermost branches, weaving their leaves with yours. It doesn’t matter that you are maple and they an oak, or you an ash and they a pine.
May you be surrounded. May you be thick with the gift of foliage. May you weather this storm and the next.
Large bloom of white, protecting and surrounding, standing out in the forest, deep dark and rich. Fragrant small buds like children holding the future of the species, fertile. Sweet, oh so sweet nectar abounds as the forest begins to awaken to long warm summer evenings of growth, swollen with life.
Sometimes we just need to know that we are protected. We need to know that our needs will be met. Once we realize that they always are, that this journey we call life is as it should be, then we can taste the sweet nectar. Then we can swell with life. Then we can live.
Warm light on soft white petals holding thought and action. Pollen as seeds, as desires, as possibilities tucked in, held and protected. An expression, still, until the warm light comes. Love, the light of knowledge that turns to the wind of wisdom.
She awaits the opportunity, her opportunity, to open and share her seeds, her pollen, for others to use as food for their family or just to look upon them and enjoy.