We’re born with an aftertaste of Oneness
and a thirst for weeds and earth, as the angel
deep within us needs our hands, to make a
dance of all this hurt. It has us reach beyond
our limits, till we love like a planet though
we’re constantly confused. We carry lightning
in a thimble of skin and bones and dreams.
We carry everything that matters in a plan
that doesn’t last, while the stars pulse
to fill us, the way a candle fills a room.
from the holding of soul work until we are ready, may we say to ourselves- it is time- here and now in the midst of all fear, authentic mistakes, and undone relationships……here- now…….
It’s not about doing anything
Not about earning or accomplishing
Not about trying harder or moving faster
It’s simply a whole-hearted willingness
To walk to the end of the dock
And let the rising sun
Fill me and ignite
The old forgotten hunger
And every time
Every. Single. Time.
When I let the longing guide me
When I turn my face just a little
The Beloved is there.
~Oriah Mountain Dreamer
Shake off this sadness, and recover your spirit;
sluggish you will never see the wheel of fate
that brushes you heel as it turns going by,
the man who wants to live is the man in whom life is abundant.
Now you are only giving food to that final pain
which is slowly winding you in the nets of death,
but to live is to work, and the only thing which lasts
is the work; start then, turn to the work.
Throw yourself like seed as you walk, and into your own field,
don’t turn your face for that would be to turn it to death,
and do not let the past weigh down your motion.
Leave what’s alive in the furrow, what’s dead in yourself,
for life does not move in the same way as a group of clouds;
from your work you will be able one day to gather yourself.
~Miguel De Unamuno