Archive for June 23rd, 2007

Footprints in the Wind sm # 775

Footprints in the Windsm # 775

Breezes, Bees and Butterflies
Do dwell within my Heart?
All Fields, and all the Meadows wide,
Spaces open too?

You, idea Wild
You, our every Child
Feral Butterfly
Up on the Breeze
Bee among the Clover sweet
You, the Blood that feeds our Heart


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Published in: Conversations, FootprintsintheWind/sm | on June 23rd, 2007 | No Comments »

Reading Emily Dickinson’s “It’s all I have to bring today–” (# 26)

Today I read Emily Dickinson’s “It’s all I have to bring today—” (# 26):

“It’s all I have to bring today—
This and my heart beside—
This, and my heart, and all the fields—
And all the meadows wide—
Be sure you count—should I forget
Some one the sum could tell—
This, and my heart, and all the Bees—
Which in the Clover dwell.”

One commentator says “this” is the poem itself: that helps me.

Emily’s poem could also be read allegorically, G!d speaking: This poem that you are feeling and you are just getting ready to write is all I have to bring today, this and my heart beside, this and my heart and all the fields and all the meadows wide…. This and my imagination, which is in this poem and my heart and yours….

—and my heart and all the fields and all the meadows wide and all the open spaces of all the places and all the open times—

And all the Breezes/Floating with our butterflies….

Transformation is about seeing. Transformation is about small changes. Transformation of the world is then in small things that I do now. The Little Flower and Mother Teresa were both onto something large: small things. This is not just changing a little corner of the universe, but is in fact the still point of the turning cosmos. This still point is less a place and more:

Transformation comes in
seeing
small changes
your “little” life

Transformation is
in the still point of the turning
large shifts in small bundles
an opening of the eye

Do the bees and the butterflies dwell in my heart? And fields, and meadows wide, and open spaces, too?

Breezes, Bees and Butterflies
Do dwell within my Heart?
All Fields, and all the Meadows wide,
Spaces open too?

This seems to be you, Lord: breezes, bees and butterflies, imagination wide as the fields the meadows touch and all that touches them, and feral too and so are we and wild.

Little things and large are seeded here. It is all real, as real as a seed and a child and an idea Wild.

You, idea Wild
You, our every Child
Feral Butterfly
Up on the Breeze
Bee among the Clover sweet
You, the Blood that feeds our Heart

:- Doug.

Published in: Conversations | on June 23rd, 2007 | No Comments »

O! Were that all humans were poets

O! Were that all humans were poets
—and we are!
in chrysalis—
telling forth the imagination of G!d
writing and reading scriptures as allegory
calling all humans to our apocalypse
divinity alive—
participating in this life!

:- Doug.

Published in: Conversations | on June 23rd, 2007 | No Comments »

We live in questions for we are

We live in questions
For we are questions
We struggle to know the answers
about our lives
“Why am I here?”
“What is the meaning of my life?”
When all along it is our place to
ask questions of life
“What do we want to make of life?”
“What new questions do we demand from life?
The essence of our life is in the questions we ask
the questions asked of us
and the questions we ask in response
It is up to us to ask the questions
of life
We live in questions
For we are questions

:- Doug.

Published in: Conversations | on June 23rd, 2007 | No Comments »

Knowledge can say nothing

Knowledge can say nothing about unique events. That’s why experience ever desecrates anything new.

:- Doug.

Published in: Conversations | on June 23rd, 2007 | No Comments »

Notice

Notice what we are noticing.

:- Doug.

Published in: Conversations | on June 23rd, 2007 | No Comments »
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