Pause

Pause.   Go slow if you can. Slower. More slowly still. Friendly dark or fearsome, this is no place to break your neck by rushing, by running, by crashing into what you cannot see.   Then again, it is true: … Continued

Pause.   When you come to the place between. When you have left what you held most dear. When you are traveling toward the life you know not. When you arrive at the hardest ground. May it become for you … Continued

Pause.   Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths, Enwrought with golden and silver light, The blue and the dim and the dark cloths Of night and light and the half-light, I would spread the cloths under your feet: But I, … Continued

Pause.   Around me the trees stir their leaves And call out stay a while The light flows from their branches And they call again “it’s simple” They say and you too have come Into the world to do this, … Continued

Pause.   I go among the trees and sit still And my stirring becomes quiet Around me like circles on water My tasks lie in their places Where I left them, asleep like cattle Then what I am afraid of … Continued

Pause.   I rarely go with the flow, always pushing, impatient, moving always into action. But sitting here still, as I have to, then things arise, words, sadnesses, appreciations. Perhaps I rush to close the trap, keep the movement of … Continued

Pause.   when the world within me is loud – constant cacophony, clanging, clashing – I hastily throw pieces of my soul into large, nondescript bags, and I take a trip outside of myself as my heart races and my … Continued

Pause. The starlings are returning early, or should I say emerging—for the starlings never left, simply hid. The windchill does not bother them: large groups often swoop and revel in the current in dramatic, black-jacketed ballets. The one outside my … Continued

Pause.   This morning the beautiful white heron was floating along above the water and then into the sky of this the one world we all belong to where everything sooner or later is a part of everything else which … Continued

Pause.   In this country, beaver-busy with the forked twigs of profit and hustle, breathe slow. Feel fingers grace the plain of your back like moonlight. Remember the glimmer of dew. Leave for another day the splinters and the rot. … Continued