The design shown here showcases Part II of III of my prose poetry published here titled, The Moon’s Say So.
“And to my end this may be the most these soles know: to grow old in the hum of an ancient song & wait for the next expression of love, to know that only those gifted with fortunate favor & a timing divine make it beyond the mountain and across the sea…”
Design by J. Ruth Kelly, All Rights Reserved
Many, many moons ago on this blog I wrote the following in recognition of how precious is the work of being and becoming who we are and how I’d wanted so many goals to have been accomplished by then. And well, here I am in this now. So many hopes still seemingly languish, but I feel their hum and they keep telling me love is the way and the play of being. And from being, all will emerge at the right point, perhaps not all hopes fulfilled, but I trust the pattern unfolding before me.
“I wanted so many things to be accomplished by now and yet, the time hasn’t made room for those things to emerge. Other things are growing, emerging slowly. More precious, deeper knowings of purpose, of resonance, of acceptance of this path. When healing the amness layer of self, the heart cries out to act, to do, to express in the life what is brewing deep within. But timing can make the difference between a fractured movement and a whole flowing vision-in-motion.”
I like how the poem in the above design ties it all together. It’s lovely to discover the gems here from ages ago are not only still relevant, but they infuse my soul with renewed purpose and a distinct feeling of being “a whole flowing vision-in-motion” … as I heal on even deeper levels.
Original poem post: Love Point.
Post quoted above: Just Keep Going.
The above excerpt is from the whole poem titled, Oasis of the Light. Found here.
In the woods somewhere
sweet swaying songs bear witness
to wounds deep, the worst sort
of gutting, how large the teeth,
and how far I’d seeped and seeped
and seeped completely down in seed
and in a gone-ing, a yawning crypt
held and holding eruptions,
creations’ secret reddest colors
for deeply hewn stutters fluttering
across a canvas as yet unknown
‘til my heart knew
and out I flew into one,
and one and one, (yet still One)
and yet still not knowing the known
and the hiding
from a creature lunging,
a bite’s longest reach
still bleeding,
but an ancient design called,
a bridge eternal healing,
deepest love promising,
then subsiding
‘til the singing resurrection,
a transformation from tomb
to tower to long desperate hours
within hours and hours blending
miracles wending, sending
every inch of me calling,
falling up and all over every spec,
dot, bindu, wreck not wrecking
as the beckoning out
of richest colors wrought whole
and healing a song
to raise the dead,
to know the unknowing
into love flowing
rivers, a heaven on earth begging…
In May Monet brews
deep hues’ agony and love
the vista reveals
A woman reeling
deeply resonating hope,
courage poised, still.
My daughter, Marion, is often called May, and in May we visited Carnegie Museum of Art. The month of May turned out to be a very challenging and difficult time for my daughter. Her courage, strength, and depth of awareness struck me as I turned to look back at her lingering over Monet’s magnificent and imparting work of beauty.
“The soul can become a reality again only when each of us has the courage to take it as the first reality in our own lives, to stand for it
and not just ‘believe’ in it.” James Hillman
Embody…
Embolden…
Embrace…
Embrace…
Embrace…
Some things just have to be watched… With one child in the Greensboro Philharmonic and another in band and another who plays guitar/sings, this blows me away. Not that you have to have kids to be blown away by it…
(Thanks to friend Mercedes of http://ifattituoi.wordpress.com/ for posting on Facebook)
