Sacred River, A Meditation
The sun settling silently on the big muddy, grandfather of all rivers as thoughts come and go and we mourn and celebrate all that life offers. My sacred river, churning and turning the secrets of all born to its code. But someone forgot to tell the river that it’s secrets were not to be entrusted with the likes of ordinary men. So the Mississippi flows south on the compass of life, an open oyster for all the world to behold the failures and successes of untold thousands waiting to be witnessed… all in good time… all in good time.
Running Down Dreams
Parkinson’s, the gift that keeps on giving, not only do I have to relearn how to walk again, I’m also blessed with the gift of perpetual dreaming as each night I sail my ship into new and uncharted waters in order to write down the next days riddle into the book of the ancients… indexed… the sacred book of dreams. You’d like a copy? Well, you can’t have it! But you can try to catch your own for it is written in the wind, in the very air we breathe, hidden in the stars that shine… courtesy of the psyche. You know him, that little narrator inside the soul.
99 Candles For…
I’ll have to be quick about it for she may be a light sleeper. But I know I need to be diligent so I hurry about with my plans with the sacred order of things on my mind. Feeling like a thief or better yet Robin Hood for I’m bringing something in and not out… Love! In the month of September in an open yard with green grass at my feet I place eight rows of nine candles surrounding a circle of nine candles with flowers in the center and room for more for all paths lead to the center. Just by the very act of lighting these candles, I’ve christened this ground as sacred in the name of love for all sentient beings. But especially one. -for M.
*Images courtesy of Picsabay