Between Now and Forever

It's you again..that angel ringing it's bell,
The look of love passing through
Between heaven and hell.

It's all the same you said
Take another look
Viewed from either side
It's the stop in between
Now and Forever.

Pack your bags
Put your hat on your head
You never know
When your train will pull up
Between Now and Forever.

Looking for Life

This morning I will inspect my plants and vegetation over the land for signs of life. Even some of the hardiest plants, like Crown of Thorns, have dropped their leaves down to the bare minimum prickly stalk. The Birds of Paradise are very doubtful about their commitment to the warmer weather. Life in the ground is moving slowly, cautiously peering up, sticking out a leaf here or there to see if it's safe. Curiously, the birds sound like they do up North in the Spring with their tentative chirps and singing. Two days ago I found a frog quite dead; frozen I think. Don't know where the lizards went to. And the bunnies, what a bad winter to be born. Now gazing out on the brown lawns and monochrome gardens, I can't help but think of the rubble of Haiti, destruction piled on top of an already devastated land. What life will grow there again ?

Thinking About Faith

I just finished Krista Tippett's book "Speaking of Faith - Why Religion Matters - and How To Talk About it " . So one of Krista's thesis's is that it is not so important what we believe as how we talk to each other about our beliefs. I love this woman's approach and I believe it is the way for the world's future religions if we are to achieve any type of spriritual unity or just mutual respect. We need to do more listening and less advertising of our own beliefs. Krista mentions Karen Armstrong's book, The History of God, and it's on my list. So far the books I've read of value on the topic of faith are The Evolution of God (Robert Wright), Speaking of Faith (Krista Tippett) and Holy The Firm (Annie Dilliard). None of them try to convince me of anything; they just present ideas and approaches to the subject.

Wandering On a Winter Night

The sky ripped open tonight spitting out ice. My plants lie huddled under frost blankets. Dig deep, hang on, the sun will warm you tomorrow; the last remaining small shoots of your legacy will rise again.

From another time I have come to know you. Sorry you can’t stay long. Lifestreaming.

Death is the dimension I do not see but, occasionally, I have glimpsed you on your way to some other place. If we could see the other place, we might not want to stay here but we must; it is our rite of passage, our duty and obligation for life given. We must not opt out before our time. Pay attention. You’ll know when.

The leaves take on iridescence before a storm; faery dust against the black sky. The wind shakes it out and tosses the bits across the pond; skimming light bits. Thoughts of mortality make us keen observers of our surroundings.