Today I splayed palms open before burnt sage
Offering heart again to open faith
Calling for lessons recently nudged away
For thrills of flattery and heart elation.
Adrenaline is not my favorite drug
I prefer to be close to the earth,
Ground heavy pulled toward her core
And my own,
Slowed, humbled, quiet
Anticipating awareness of what I’ve tried to hide,
Is here now—
Desire not for thrill over substance
Rather still over flutter,
Sweet surrender in trust that I’ll always have, and do now, exactly what I need.
Everything, for thriving as me.
Sure, as a Montana summer day is long,
Is my deep heartbeat for lifelong connection,
Ease of silence and words and touch…
While today’s the kind of day I’d lie belly down on earth
Tears flowing into her
Caressing dry Montana soil with my love —
Perhaps dog resting at my side, heavy blanket over thighs when I roll to face the sky,
A silent, tender palm across my sternum.
“Imagine what you want to feel, she said, and you will.” (Tara Brach)
I picture a hand on my chest, a second, back of heart.
My breath deepening to fill a space seemingly larger with imaginary contact of another.
Gratitude pours over as watery eyes threaten safe driving
And I know I am loved beyond belief, eternally.
The cedar forest shadows blink over me heaven’s midday light,
And I only wish to be here
Getting lost on this Swan Mountain road
Oh Lord you know….
Be still and know that I am God…
Praise flows in waves of lyrics landing on quiet tongue and back of throat,
Memories from days of youthful soul-seeking and spirit still fills me up
As if her presence is brand new right now
Thank you, thank you, thank you,
For courage to sit while others hike away,
To see beauty in the humbling of revelation of true desire,
In the settling reminder of who I am today,
Accepting, watching, letting.
“Darling, I am here for you.” (Tara again)
These are words of self-love and compassion.
This is encouragement of self-companionship and companionship with the earth.
A fly buzzing doesn’t flinch me. A bird calling, calls me
Home, within, curious of my own ways
Of calling for what I need,
Often in thoughtless false starts
Not feeling, either, but rote nervous systematic movement toward the unknown
It seems soothing simply because I tell myself it’s forward.
If forward equals success, I won’t ever rest.
An exhausted life is less adventurous than a soul-turned-inward climb.
May I climb as deep within as I do high without.
Clamber as many inward brambles as outward brush,
Endure as deep awareness as surface sensitivities to outside threats
And learn as infinitely the inner working of God’s perfect creation in my soul
As hers in yours
And in the mountains
And in the trees
And in the sky.