Photo Credit: https://www.freepik.com/free-icon/airbrush-painting-tool_735640.htm
Profound food for thought from Jane Woodman on this Winter Solstice. Enjoy and reflect.
With weight of Winter warming causing pain,
We long for snow and ice to come again
To bring protection for the soil below
And friendly freezing’s later soaking flow.
The birds know this warm Solstice isn’t kind
And mob each seed in feeders they can find,
Soft breezes telling them what we can’t hear:
All harsh winds, frost and biting cold draw near.
Come cold night, then, and even colder dawn;
This warm December should not, can’t go on.
All seasons have their purposes in turn;
Pale Winter balances Sun’s Summer burn.
This Solstice counterweighs its Sister’s light
With sparkling cold and deeper, lusher night.
Recently I introduced the newly published book of spiritual poetry, Rose Petals Floating Downstream by Anita Neilson ( https://anitaneilson.com/ )
I picked up the book in an in-between time today and opened to the poem below, “If Thine Eye be Single.” Here it is, accompanied by what it evoked from me.
“The light of the body is the eye:
if therefore thine eye be single,
thy whole body shall be full of light.”
Matthew 6:22
Eyes twinkling
like headlamps dipping
o’er the brow of a hill;
silent messengers
through the mists of time.
Windows on the world
but also to the soul
if we look deeper.
Codeless truths blink
to those who seek
meaning en route.
An eternal clignoter
Clic, clic, clic.
If thine eye be single
a million stars
Will diffuse into one
and every twist and turn
a delight will be
on this path to eternity.
Anita Neilson
The eye with which god
sees me is the same eye
with which I see god.
One seeing
knowing
loving.
My eye and god’s eye
are one.
Meister Eckhart
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
The light with which god
sees me is the same light
with which I see god.
One seeing
knowing
loving
One Light.
God’s light and my light
are one light.
rita h kowats
I recommend this lovely new book of Anita Neilson’s spiritual poetry:
https://anitaneilson.com/2018/12/07/its-raining-rose-petals/
You create yourself in
ever-changing shapes
that rise from the stuff
of our days-
unsung, unmourned,
undescribed,
like a forest we never knew.
You are the deep
innerness of all things,
the last word that can
never be spoken.
To each of us you
reveal yourself
differently:
to the ship as a
coastline, to the shore
as a ship.
from The Book of Hours II, 22
in A Year with Rilke: Daily Readings from the Best of Rainer Maria Rilke
by Rainer Maria Rilke, Anita Barrows (Editor), Joanna Macy (Editor)
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