questions that matter

Am I bold enough?
Are there ways I am living
too small?
There are definitions and containers
I could cram myself into
But would they leave me space
to breathe?

Am I watchful enough?
There is much in life
that can diminish me
if I am not vigilant.
How have I succumbed to
noxious streams of sentimental
nonsense that have clouded
my vision and hidden my hope?

Am I courageous enough?
There is so much worthy
of my love
and my time and my tenacity.
When have I stepped valiantly
into life’s arena to confront
the bullish nay sayers?

Am I resilient enough?
Perfection is insidious
and potential too precious
to worry over or waste.
Where have I been an architect
of something grand
and graceful and good?

Am I enough?
Am I living my dream of myself?
And where and when and how
have I lived at the edges of possibility
serving the magnificent dream
of the wholeness
of the world?

do not answer too soon

shhhhhh
stop & wait & wonder &
do not answer
too soon
rest a while
in the question
whatever it may be

can you resist
the need for surety
the comfort of decisiveness
can you just keep pondering
long enough
to allow the miracles of possibility
to flutter around you
like butterflies
delighting your mind's eye

consider that certainty
may not be all
it is cracked up to be
would you rather view life
through an open window
or a closed door
better still
step outside
the box of shoulds and cannots
is too confining
for your exuberantly creative spirit
to roam around in

if you want to hear spirit speak
if you want to let soul sing
spend time in the spaciousness
between your thoughts
and wander under, over, and around
your hard-earned knowledge
only there can you discover
the soft underbelly
of your inklings and knowings

losses

overwhelming sometimes
how so many losses
are notched on the heart
of a single human life
so much that is irretrievable
burdens and blessings alike
left necessarily (or not)
on the side of the road
lest their full weight
become unbearable

and then of course
there are other times
and other losses
so great
so connected to the core of our being
that they must
of necessity
be enfolded into the totality
of our Self
like whisked egg whites into batter
adding to the texture
and shape
of our life story

unraveling or unfolding

reluctant am I
to awaken abruptly
while hues of darkness
still paint the sky
while dreams play
hide and seek
in the spaciousness
between my sleep world
and wake fullness

while the soft cocoon
of my warm bed
envelops me
while the firm cradle
of my true love's arms
holds me safe
the stillness feels
all too precious
to disturb disrespectfully

lingering sweetly
in my blanket
of nocturnal sanctuary
I whisper my prayers
of gratitude
then ever so slowly
like a lazy lioness
stretch and unfold myself
into the waiting day

it has taken
a lifetime to learn
to abandon the unraveling
perpetrated
by the harsh intrusion
of my alarm sounding
and trust instead
my deep Self
to hear
the soft invitation
of morning
greeting me by name

things happen life happens

things happen
life happens
while we plan
and plod
while we dig
and dream
while we caress
and create
the forces of life
push and pull
at our efforts

thoughts
yours and mine
and actions
mine and yours
scatter seeds
hither or yon
some take root
others are destroyed
or decompose
becoming fertile ground
for what next

things happen
life happens
and
ours is not to reason
or rail about why
all that really matters
is simply this -
how we respond
to happenstance
and how we hold each other
along the way

innocent we were

innocent
we were
once
upon a time
and arrogant
building
towers that
could touch
the sky
almost
with nary
a thought
of how tempting
it would be
to knock them
down

child's play
building blocks
toppled
in a moment
dreams crushed
under a mountain
of rubble
while
we who survive
breathe in the dust
and hear the cries
of those
lost
in the crumbled remains
along with our illusions
of invincibility

amazing
how everything
insubstantial
falls away
in the wake of disaster

falling towers
implode on
our small worries
and wants
burying with them
our naiveté
and our selfishness

rising
from the ash covered debacle
with resolve
and courage
our Phoenix-Self
stretches out
to embrace
that which is essential -
compassion
connection
charity
faith
hope

oh world
hear our cries
not just the agony
of our collective pain
but our plea
for unity
against all that would destroy
the human capacity
for kindness and love
and
the will and power
to be just

like a just hatched bird

like a just hatched bird
mouth open to the sky
in a soulful cry
for nourishment
there is in me
a hunger so deep
that I stretch
my whole self upwards
neck craned
in anticipation
open to receive
waiting...trusting...hoping
my need will be met
without knowing why
or how

golden coins

minutes, hours, days
my most precious wealth
like golden coins
jingling in a silver purse
awaken me
from time to time
as a dharma bells does
to the present moment
reminding me that
it is here
to be spent
but not wasted

sometimes
I am miserly
counting out
these timely tokens
ever so carefully
in the day runner
that would run my days
other times
I judiciously offer
the greater portion
of my riches
with discretionary beneficence
generously
measuring and doling
pleased with the worthiness
of my selections

but of course
there are those times
of frivolous abandon
when the minutes
pour out everywhere
in gay profusion
gracing the palms
of friends and strangers alike
as I allow myself
to be enticed and enthused
by the variety
of life's grand bazaar

uncontainable
purse strings slackened
sufficiently loosed
by my passion
beyond the constraints
of my practicality
it's true of course
these very moments
are the richest of all
wildly serendipitous time
out of time
replenishing my life
adding immeasurable value
to each precious coin
lavishly dispensed
in the feeding of my soul