You need to become a pen
in the Sun’s hand.
We need for the earth to sing
Through our pores and eyes.
The body will again become restless
Until your soul paints all its beauty
Upon the sky.
~Hafiz
Paint it today, lovely one.
I want to see it.
Outside there is a thin wind flirting with the trees it has teased the curtains into dancing; I keep time in my head. Memorizing the seasons, I touch things as if my fingers will learn them again; weary of explanations, at mid-life I am more comfortable with the truth. Outside, the mountain ash hangs heavy…
A friend of mine recently told me, “You know, Kymberlee, you will find a man who treats you with the respect you deserve when YOU know you deserve it.” I know it’s true. My spiritual teacher, Matt Kahn, once said in satsang that our bodies and the hearts that inhabit them are works of art….
For years, copying other people, I tried to know myself. From within, I couldn’t decide what to do. Unable to see, I heard my name being called. Then I walked outside. The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you. Don’t go back to sleep. You must ask for what you really want. Don’t go…