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Tag Archives: Christian Writing
A few pages shuffled
my hands uncertain
tentative as always.
One’s full of tears
as I am tears, and bad repairs
that won’t last, of remains
of lives that didn’t. But their stories
are beautiful, aren’t they? Continue reading
What can I do but follow? I’m an old dog now and they’re my home. Wherever they go, I go with them.
It’s been like this, since … Ceaselessly wandering, my humans. They have no choice, but that’s long forgotten, except for cellular memories, urging.
They call it many things, the restlessness. Career move. Downsizing. Looking for a better life. Continue reading
The Loving Quark
Said Einstein, “into nature look, look deep
and better all things will you understand.”
To look into the heart – the seat
of love – he was, it seemed, imploring man. Continue reading
I looked back, sin
safer than flight.
I should have soared away.
Zoar was not far
but sin was nearer.
I was cosy with sin –
a warm nest. Continue reading
As my broken shoulder mends (and the rate is ‘amazing’ and ‘astonishing’ to my consultant and physio respectively) and I am able to do more and more with my left hand and arm. (I’m a leftie, so it’s quite important!) I’m bit by bit picking up my creative threads. Spiritually and mentally, there are some exciting developments brewing.
Nonetheless, I’ve been feeling down in the dumps about my creative hiatus. My hands fell this morning on a little book I have* of extracts from the love poems of Rumi, described on the cover as, “The great Sufi saint who embraced God through the path of love.” I opened it upon words which resonated strongly with my present state of spirit – and body. Continue reading
“All the world’s a stage and men and women merely players upon it.”
The Hone Life word of the week is play, as in playfulness rather than stage play, but in letting this quote select me, I’m demonstrating playfulness in letting my right brain, intuition, serendipity, synchronicity, Higher Consciousness, whatever you want to call it, have dominion. I’m being playful in my contemplation of play. Continue reading