Enjoy A Cup OF Tea

You must be completely awake in the present to enjoy the tea.

Only in the awareness of the present,
can your hands feel the pleasant warmth of the cup.

Only in the present, can you savor the aroma,
taste the sweetness,
appreciate the delicacy.

If you are ruminating about the past,
or worrying about the future,
you will completely miss the experience of enjoying the cup of tea.

You will look down at the cup,
and the tea will be gone.

Life is like that.

If you are not fully present,
you will look around and it will be gone.

You will have missed the feel,
the aroma,
the delicacy and beauty of life.

It will seem to be speeding past you.

The past is finished. Learn from it and let it go.

The future is not even here yet.
Plan for it,
but do not waste your time worrying about it.

Worrying is worthless.

When you stop ruminating about what has already happened,
when you stop worrying about what might never happen,
then you will be in the present moment.

Then you will begin to experience joy in life.

Vietnamese Buddhist monk and philosopher,
Thich Nhat Hanh

Leaves of Silver

LEAVES OF SILVER

Leaves
Shimmering, silvery
Illuminated by the sunlight
Glistening now with each breeze
Cascades swaying, turning
As a few have been caught by the wind
They twirl and tumble then;
Standing upright
They are soldiers marching
Marching in a joyous parade of nature

Nancy Ellen Crossland

Bird in a Gilded Cage

Bird in a Gilded Cage (Excerpt)

"She's only a bird in a gilded cage,
A beautiful sight to see.
You may think she's happy and free from care,
She's not, though she seems to be.
'Tis sad when you think of her wasted life
For youth cannot mate with age;
And her beauty was sold
for an old man's gold,
She's a bird in a gilded cage."

Arthur J. Lamb

Path of the Feather

Path of the Feather

To follow the path of a sacred life,
To see the beauty of a feather...

~ Within a sacred space...for just one special moment ~

Pausing long enough to find yourself,
Pausing to pick it from the ground...

~ It sings to you of the legends...it makes you alive ~

A trace left by your native brethren,
A gift to make your soul come alive...

~ Following the trail of little bread crumbs sprinkled about ~

It whispers you are on the right path,
It speaks that your life is sacred again...

~ We are our own Shaman ~

Heathyre A Perara

Choices

Choices

I go to the mountain side
of the house to cut saplings,
and clear a view to snow
on the mountain. But when I look up,
saw in hand, I see a nest clutched in
the uppermost branches.
I don’t cut that one.
I don’t cut the others either.
Suddenly, in every tree,  
an unseen nest
where a mountain  
would be.

by Tess Gallagher

The Lighthouse

The Lighthouse  (excerpt)

The rocky ledge runs far into the sea,
and on its outer point, some miles away,
the lighthouse lifts its massive masonry,
A pillar of fire by night, of cloud by day.

Even at this distance I can see the tides,
Upheaving, break unheard along its base,
A speechless wrath, that rises and subsides
in the white tip and tremor of the face.

And as the evening darkens, lo! how bright,
through the deep purple of the twilight air,
Beams forth the sudden radiance of its light,
with strange, unearthly splendor in the glare!

"Sail on!" it says: "sail on, ye stately ships!
And with your floating bridge the ocean span;
Be mine to guard this light from all eclipse.
Be yours to bring man neared unto man.

---Henry Wadsworth Longfellow--- 

Free

Free

I only wanted to hold it a moment
Before it took flight
I had gazed at it often
It had brought me such delight,

It's amber and black wings
So vibrant and light
Flitting from flower to flower
Hour upon hour
In the bright sunlight,

Then so cautiously I approached
Afraid to breathe
Afraid it would leave
It seemed to sense my eyes so intense
It became so very still,

I reached gently to hold it
No, it wasn't to be
We cannot capture beauty such as that
It must not be kept selfishly
For it was made by gentler hands
For all the world to see.

Nancy Ellen Crossland
 

Cowboy Poetry

Cowboy Poetry

Whether you’re young or gettin’ old
there’s ‘cowboy poetry’ to be told
‘bout those men who rode the range,
some folks thinkin’ it plum’ strange

But, ya might just wanna take a listen,
tho’ tales could cause tear drops to glisten,
stories told of times cowboys lived,
hard work, and carin’ hearts they’d give

Of nights men sat ‘round blazin’ fires,
told windy stories of life’s desires
in a form that may seem odd today,
then, ‘cowboy poetry’ was relaxin’ play

They’d express what happened on the trail,
share with others hardy-hale,
dreams of what the future’d bring
if a wide loop they could only swing

They talked ‘bout critters of all breeds,
in ‘cowboy poetry’, claimed their creeds
to settle land way out west there,
an’ along the way, a sweetheart snare

But sadly, those early days are gone,
tho’ thankfully, their tales live on
as poets tell of the cowboys' plight,
hopin’ they got the stories right…

Tamara Hillman

Love & Passion

Love & Passion

Oh, send a box of love & passion
I’m ready for it now.

Wishing to share,
Willing to be close.

Wanting to be loved,
Needing to be held.

Too long alone,
Too long without.
Barbara B. Baskin 2010
 

A Dying Brain

A Dying Brain

Do you recall how I was once your fire?
And we, a regal cloud of unity
Meandering through the closing blues of night,
Commanding stars to glitter;
Dawn to blush?

Your answer comes in ever-blanking stares:
A wall that blocks the know,
Damping down the glow that used to emanate
From clear and lucid eyes.
They've lost the will to recognize.

But hear! We are fifty years together -
And once we writhed in pleasure -
Drowning in emotion,
That which was our prime.

You don't recall.
You only lie as vegetation
Scattered on the ground:
A living mound of flesh,
Devoid of any neural mesh
To let you say 'I'm sound.'

Don't worry Dear,
For I'm aware with memory!
I'll tell you how we were.
We have our right of history!

If you could just concur.

Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009

Clouds

CLOUDS

Horizons void of clouds
How dull would be the scenery
To know them all by name
A visual adventure to attain,
Altostratus, pileus, cirrus, nimbus
Least we forget the all familiar cumulus,

Who has not gazed in amazement at the magnificent array
Billowy clouds on a perfect day?
Standing on the seashore where clouds meet the sea
Inspire the calmest soul to ecstasy,

Imagination soars as clouds pass by
Images, shapes we find appearing in the sky
What sheer enjoyment is achieved by watching nature's wonder,

Restful, meditative, tranquil
Everlastingly inspirational.

Nancy Ellen Crossland

Missing Piece

Missing Piece

For years I have been fixing this mess of a jigsaw life.
Going through, and studying each piece.
Fitting them in, trying to find my base,
My corners.
And when I saw where something didn’t fit,
I found the problems.
And sorted them out
Things in the wrong place.
Some pieces didn’t fit.
And a few pieces were broken,
And needed to be fixed,
But over the years
I have gotten to the point,
Where it resembles the picture it should.
It is near complete, and I know the gaps.
I can see the shapes of the pieces that need to be found.
But I can’t see them.
I seem to be a piece missing.
I can feel that hole.
But can’t see where the missing piece is.

I am missing a piece.
And it is haunting me
Like a shadow,
That is still seen in the night.

Marc Robinson

If A Child.....

IF A CHILD....

If a child lives with criticism,
he learns to condemn.
If a child lives with hostility,
he learns to fight.
If a child lives with ridicule,
he learns to be shy.
If a child lives with shame,
he learns to feel guilty.
If a child lives with tolerance,
he learns to be patient.
If a child lives with encouragement,
he learns confidence.
If a child lives with praise,
he learns to appreciate.
If a child lives with fairness,
he learns justice.
If a child lives with security,
he learns to have faith.
If a child lives with approval,
he learns to like himself.
If a child lives with acceptance and friendship,
He learns to find love in the world.

--Dorothy Law Nolte--

Liberty

I created this image due to a challenge made by "Alfred Welsh" in his comment made on

White Tree at Twilight.  I hope it pleases him.

LIBERTY ENLIGHTENS THE PEOPLE

She broke her bonds and strode along the beach:
A metal titan with the strength to act
In judgment of the wretches who detract
From lessons they had lost the will to teach.
And on the slate she held was graven each
Colossal name of those whose holy pact
To build a nation still proclaimed the fact
Of storied greatness, late within our reach.
How many laurels grace the marble brow?
A race of giants had traversed the far
Face of the bannered moon. And turning now,
She smites the teeming refuse who would mar
What God has made, before they can endow
Old Glory with the Devil's waning star.

Ellin Anderson

 

Happy Valentine's Day

 

My Funny Valentine

My funny Valentine
    Sweet comic Valentine
    You make me smile with my heart
    Your looks are laughable
    Unphotographable
    Yet you're my favorite work of art

    Is your figure less than Greek
    Is your mouth a little weak
    When you open it to speak
    Are you smart?

    But don't change a hair for me
    Not if you care for me
    Stay little Valentine stay
    Each day is Valentine's day

    Is your figure less than Greek
    Is your mouth a little weak
    When you open it to speak
    Are you smart?

    But don't you change one hair for me
    Not if you care for me
    Stay little Valentine stay
    Each day is Valentine's day

Video Here

Pink Twilight

Pink Twilight

The blush of the early evening sky
falling across the porcelain snow
creating a hushed quiet,
a calm peace,
harmony within.

Barbara B. Baskin 2010

Apparition of a Butterfly

Apparition of a Butterfly

Upon a fuzzy vista - vision blurred -

I tried to focus; nothing ever solid

Came to view, but undeterred, I blinked

An eye to try again. Through the mist

A coloured hue; polychromatic flames

Had flickered at a whim; a rhythm bore

A thrumming too: a naturalistic hymn.

Behold! Were I to find a synonym to

Reproduce or recreate

The apparition of a butterfly,

Evolving through the waning vapour,

Drawing on a sigh from this romantic.

Glory be! The raging sun above

Had fired his furnace, flaming off

The hangers on. Now I saw the flare:

His time has come. He spread a tortoiseshell:

A scene of Mother Nature at her best.

I lay in peace in knowing I was blessed.

Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009

Woman Suppressed

Photo credit to Preston Surface of Surface & Surface Photography

Stifled

When there were decisions to be made

The woman’s voice was stifled.

When there were opinions to be stated

The woman’s voice was stifled.

When there were rules to be made

The woman’s voice was stifled.

When there were thoughts to be expressed

The woman’s voice was stifled.

When there were ideas to be bandied about

The woman’s voice was stifled.

As if she were faded into the background--unimportant.

Barbara B. Baskin 2010

 

Hope for the Homeless

HOPE

I sit behind the bars wondering what I did to deserve this.
Why am I here? What did I do wrong?
Will I ever find a home?

I hear voices, I see people!
I bark, wagging my tail.
I scream out “Pick me, oh please pick me!”
But just like my luck they pass my pen choosing my friend.

I lay back in my cold, cramped cage.
Would someone come who’d care for me?
Love me?

Days pass by, continued by weeks.
Yet still I’m all alone in this pen.
I give up hope, watching as my friends find homes, yet I’m still here.
All alone.

Footsteps can be heard; they stop near my jail cell.
I look up at the friendly face.
She smiles and says she wants this one.

I jump for joy.
“Oh yes, I’m free!”
She laughs and says, “You’re coming home with me!”

Finally I found a home; sweet home.
Somewhere I can play and roam.
Now I’m happy thanks to her.
I know I’ll show her all I know.
‘Cause I never want to go back there.
Back there where I had no hope.

Rachael Ann Drummond

Alone Time

A Little While

You don't understand me
I don't expect you to
This deep spiritual need I have
Directs me differently than you

I am a soul, born unique
Unusual it's true
And I have needs
That I must meet
To do the things I do

Peace at times
I must have
In order to create
Creation is the air I breathe
With no peace I suffocate

Please don't take offense with me
If at times it seems I hide
And shut the world out
Including you
As there's no offense implied

So let me have this time I plea
To do what I do differently
I will be back to laugh and smile
I just need a little while

-Neva Flores 2009