One Love, 2

I close my eyes even though I am at my oasis                                                                                                               close my eyes even though everything is in full bloom                                                                                 close my eyes even though the weather is perfect...no jacket, no sweating, no shivering                                    close my eyes even though the air is crisp and clean                                                                                  Where is joy                                                                                                                                                   Where has spring gone

I open my eyes and feast on what was once black is now lush                                                                       with the intense greens of Scotland                                                                                                                      wild red succulent raspberries                                                                                                                            every tree                                                                                                                                                                    every bush                                                                                                                                                         every weed                                                                                                                                                                    sing hymns of summer

   A family of geese float by in the calm sunlit pond before me

 I can barely tell the difference between the mother, father and their goslings                                            They have grown and are almost ready to fly off on their own

One love                                                                                                                                                                 be it old                                                                                                                                                              be it new                                                                                                                                                                     

I am so glad I have come to visit these spring waters                                                                                                                                                                                                

Place of contemplative joy                                                                                                                   contemplative peace                                                                                                                                             a place of a unyielding love 

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Awakened

Before I meditate a stone is just a stone. It is cold yet at times may catch and reflect the sun.

After meditation, I open my eyes and now it is surrounded by a special calmness. The air is soft like cotton balls and the stone not only catches and reflects light but twinkles with awe. It conveys a quite joy and makes me smile with a heartfelt warmth. Before I meditated all was winter yet afterwards in that moment spring is awakened.
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Full Moon at Midnight

 

While standing on a bridge at midnight I gazed to my right, Ananda Ashram’s welcoming lake whispered softly, “Come to my calm waters. I will cradle your heart, for in my still waters lies reflections of peace”  yet looking to my left were unleashed, wild waterfalls. Both were linked together in the hands of an unseen dam under the bridge. Sisters of the water but completely opposite… one of peace, one of thrills; one with long sweeping hair and the other with crazy wild curls, all beneath the full, golden moon on a still winter’s night.

Joan Suval, one of the Ashram’s disciples, read from “The Masters” comparing loneliness with aloneness.    She spoke of years gone by when the founding Guru was still alive and he would say on a night like tonight, “We should dance under this full moon” and to her amazement they would all go outside and do it .

After her recitations, seeking audience participation she acknowledged one of the weekend guests, Onya, raising her hand. Joan nodded as Anya proclaimed “I want to dance under the moon!” Her friend, Jackie, sitting cross-legged by her side smiled knowingly.  In this moment, I felt it was my destiny as well. Our paths crossed later that evening and they unexpectedly invited me to join them.

They lit a candle on the midnight bridge where the wild falls and calm waters converged.  The moon and stars were our audience as songs from Florence and the Machine, Enya, and Amy Winehouse played on. We joined hands and spun then danced with the stars and full moon as spirits of freedom and joy chimed in.  Within these moments we were no longer mere mortals but deities and goddesses celebrating with the universe.

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The Story of Wheat

 

Life is clearly understood by looking at wheat…rooted, connected and sustained by the nutrients from the earth and nurtured by the light of the sun. These basic elements of life are apparent for its survival.

Now examine its purpose and position.

One of its purposes is sustenance which is offered to many forms of life. Maybe, the wheat has knowledge of its value, for giving may be its mode of communication. Even though we may not understand it, the wheat may understand us.

The wheat has emotional beauty which it shares with us. As we gaze upon a field of wheat, it may convey feelings of serenity, calmness, and peace. We may also experience its sensual beauty through its soothing touch, refreshing aroma when baked and even as we hear it interact with the breezes on a cool autumn day.

The wheat may share its unconditional love but is it reciprocal?

Our perception of the wheat is reflected from the exact moment in which it is growing and sharing to the exact point in which we are gazing upon it or consuming it; but aren’t we both products of nature’s elements? I may become lost in my own thoughts but the simplicity of it all boils down to how we interact with one another.

The wheat thrives plentiful with its family and community but alone may go unnoticed, almost invisible. How can one acknowledge the wheat and give thanks for what has nurtured us so well when we can barely see it? 

The story of purpose, survival, nurturing and connectivity can be taught within one gaze of this fruitful field. May we feel its love for us as it offers its nurturing gifts in a single touch, taste or gaze. The wheat never stops giving but in its silence might it be forgotten?.

3-19-05