For a New Way of Being

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For a New Way of Being

On this day, the people will begin
to remember their humanity.
They will search for the Self
that matters, a Self unconcerned
with accumulation
of anything that does not
raise the spirit,
a Self that reflects a wisdom
not available
in the media or marketplace.

Look into their faces
and pray for their remembering
and their healing.
Then find a new place
where your own remembering
can unfold,
because that is who you were really
dreaming and praying for.
There is no other
to hate or heal.

Love yourself
for wanting to change, wanting
to help, wanting to hope,
for believing in harmony
and kindness.

Watch courage spring up
like wildflowers
along the better road.
Gather what you need,
and bring to the dark edges
of charred thought
the wild, rippling color of change.

 

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Monday Morning Mary: Thank You for Noticing

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Monday Morning Mary: Thank You for Noticing

Thank you for noticing
the ordinary day,
how the sun was shining
and everything
flowed
like the little brook
you stopped to watch

how your sweet dog,
old as she is,
almost wanted to walk
up the hill
and then trotted like a pony
back down

how you made plans
for the day
and some of them worked out

how you reclined in the sun
and read a novel instead

how a dinner of spinach
and potatoes tastes
like a celebration
when made by someone
who loves you

and how your heart turned
toward the one you love
as the evening grew bright
with the crescendo of crickets
heralding change
still masked
in these last green
days of August

 

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i can sit with this

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i can sit with this

when i am
prickly, fidgeting
inside

because
i cannot figure
outside

i announce:
i can sit with this

I can sit with the
unwieldy sum
of
money heart family
noise
plus
a broken coffee cup
and bad hair cut

i can sit with this

and I must
sit with this

without naming
or solving

just sit and say
in a very gentle way
as if sweeping cooling cloths
over a feverish forehead

i can sit with this
i can sit with this

and then without
fanfare i find
i am empty
and i am sitting
peacefully
with nothing
and everything
all at once

Monday Morning Mary: Remain in Love

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In These Times

You have turned to me
in disbelief, shaken
as the earth cracks
like bone
under the plan and force
of stricken minds.

How, you ask,
can this continue to happen?
How, you wonder,
can your tiny prayer matter?

I tell you now
that it does.
That all the tiny prayers
of the world
add up
like the grains of sand
that line the oceans.

Imagine yourself
on the shore of Holy Presence.
Release the answers
you have disguised as prayer.
Receive the messages of love
that arrive on soft waves.

Do not neglect such imagining.
It is prayer.

Walk now, back into your
day which is no longer ordinary,
and be a sanctuary.
Serve love.
Welcome love.
Remain in love.

 

Mary and Jesus in Ocean Grove

Photos taken by my sister, Christine. If you zoom in on the first one, you can see rain streaming like tears down Mother Mary’s face.

Monday Morning Mary: To Be Moved

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To Be Moved

When you make time
to travel to the cherry blossoms,
may you also clear your eyes

so that when you arrive
under the canopy of white lace,
the delicate spirit of each tiny flower
will have a direct path to your heart.

In this holy instant,
when your heart becomes a vase
as large as your being,
you will receive more beauty
than you thought possible.

Joy will rise inside you,
pure as water,
until you contain nothing else,

until you are fully moved,
and from your eyes
tears blossom.
Mary - Mariandale

 

Saturday the weather was gloomy, and the sky was as white as the blossoms, except for one brief patch of blue. But the thousands of cherry blossom trees at Branch Brook Park in Newark, NJ were at the peak of bloom. The overcast skies in some ways made the blossoms appear all the more magical.

More scenes from Branch Brook Park, Newark NJ…

 

Monday Morning Mary: Blessing for the Thing You Must Do Alone

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Blessing for the Thing You Must Do Alone

When you must cross a threshold that frightens you
to enter a territory you would much prefer to avoid,
may you tether to your wrist
a flock of helium balloons.
As you go where you must,
they will babble overhead
on their long threads,
following you so eagerly,
as if they were new thoughts—
ones of hope, creativity, courage
and love—
waiting, just waiting
for you to think them.

Who can maintain gravity
while holding the potential
to defy it?

Go, then, trailing the colors
of illumination, armed
with new thoughts
to lift you.

Mother Mary with Child

Monday Morning Mary: Lapse

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Lapse

The saints become silent
and the angels freeze.
Alone before dawn
I feel nothing or no one divine.
Only my broken friend, fear,
lingers like an old dog.
At times like this
whom else can I count on?

In the darkness, I am a sieve,
holding neither courage nor love.
I wrap myself in a cocoon of blankets
trying to pool what is left.

If only I could remember daybreak
and how the holy ones assemble about me,
a fluid, traveling wreath,
gently coaxing this wisp out of hiding.
 

 

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Monday Morning Mary: When You Need a Reason

 

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When You Need a Reason

It’s easy to say
things happen for a reason
when the thing that is happening
is merely inconvenient
or is not happening directly to you.

Be careful when you offer the words
things happen for a reason
as wisdom or consolation to another human being.
Better to utter the words silently as a prayer
of surrender and acceptance.

Things may happen for a reason
but not necessarily
for one that is palatable
or even discernible.

Things happen as a river happens:
each bead of water following another,
collectively carrying
all that needs to be carried
to sea.

 

The pictures in this post were taken this morning in my neighborhood.

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We had a blizzard in NJ two days ago, leaving close to two feet of snow in my area, more in other places. With the sun shining full this morning, I couldn’t resist visiting these two brooks. I was enchanted by the snow-covered boulders…

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and the sound of water flowing over the stones.

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I almost missed the animal tracks near the water’s edge.

brook 1

 

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Spotted this drift along the brook, and it seemed so friendly, nature’s own snowfellow.

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Nothing more magical than the sun sparkling on the frozen brook. 

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Sending some of those sparkles along to you.

 

Mother Mary in snow