Something of birdsong, in me
Something of the stars
Something of wild rivers in my veins
Something of cohesion, something of chaos,
Something of wisdom
In my soul and in the universal flows
From which I came.

It searches for me
I search for it.
The beauty of wild things, wild places
Is in me.

I search for it.

   ~Roderick MacIver

no, no, no when there is only room for yes and then the maybes resound within a loud racket of angels singing in hope for this amazing, living, day…….

An enthusiasm pulsed through me whose language I knew well. These are modern times,  I told myself. But we are not trapped in them. We can go where we like, communing with angels, to reprise a time in human history more science fiction than the future.

I have smoothed the hem of the robe of Parsifal.

Watched Giotto’s sheep wander from a fresco.

Prayed before holy icons unveiled, surviving time.

Held shavings swept from the hut of Geppetto.

Unzipped a body bag and beheld the face of my brother.

Witnessed the acolyte scatter petals over a dying poet.

I saw the smoke of incense from the shape of my days.

I saw my love return to God.

I saw things as they are.

Shard by shard we are released from the tyranny of so-called time.

~Patti Smith

sinking or floating

Of all types of security I am consciousness of

the eternal soul within.

Of secrets I am pleasant speech and silence,

and among seasons I am spring.

Among jewels I am the ruby,

and among beautiful things I am the lotus cup.

I am the steadiness of mountains

and the fragrant aroma of the earth.

~The Bhagavad-Gita