I looked at my cat this morning and exclaimed, “Wheel of Fortune!” capturing as much of the exuberance of “Rain Man” Ray as I could muster. Sherlock yawned in reply.
Tarot card “Wheel of Fortune,” had been my meditation. I learned again that change is inevitable and try as we may, we can’t control everything. We should just work on staying centered as we experience the spin, the fortune and the misfortune.
How could I not be inspired by the long running American game show, “Wheel of Fortune?”
Wheel of Fortune!
With a flick of the wrist
The Wheel offers up both
Fortune and misfortune.
Around and around she goes
And where she stops, nobody knows.
The trick is to relinquish control,
Relax into the spin
Learn from the landing point.
We can always call for a vowel
From the great white dove
Who wafts across the stage
Of our lives handing out hints
And glints of grace
For puzzle solving.
© Rita H Kowats 8-3-2020
Weeping Willow Meditation
My seven-year-old self often sat
Settled under the swaying, trailing branches
Of the weeping willow that stood guard
In the center of her backyard.
The wispy caresses of the supple branches
Danced on the gentle wind,
Soughing a message unheard
On the other, unsettled wind
That gusted through the house-
You are loved. You are whole.
My seventy-five year old self
Now sits before a willow weeping
For a world not supple,
A world bending to its breaking point.
Trailing branches whip and slap,
Howls replace affirming whispers.
The weeping will wane
With every sway of every branch.
Hope will caress us again.
Weeping and rejoicing are One.
Live through each,
You become the Other.
© Rita Hemmer Kowats 4-30-2020
Photo Credit: Photo by Daria Sannikova from Pexels
Incarnation happens where it happens: East, West, North and South, Inside, Outside, In Isaiah and in Rumi too. May this new week bring us Incarnation.
It has been two days since I visited my sister-in-law in the memory care unit. An intense collage of feelings have mixed with tears as I struggle to make sense of the unsensible.
GONE WHERE ARE YOU MOMENTS OF TERROR HUMOR GRIEF UNLESS YOU BECOME LIKE LITTLE CHILDREN YOU CANNOT ENTER THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN WITHOUT THE ABILITY TO THINK…IS THERE A SOUL it’s all there.
Phyllis was diagnosed with Alzheimers two years ago and now after another fall and a broken hip and a move, the disease has progressed dramatically in a short time. I am grateful that my brother hasn’t lived to witness this.
At last this morning I was gifted with a measure of sense and hope:
Photo Credit: pexels.com
This poem follows on the heels of yesterday’s prayer. It dogged me with the tenacity of Heaven’s Hound until this was born. Ponder with me.
We are called to play one another
with the instrument we’ve been given.
“SoulCards” by Deborah Koff-Chapin. The technique Deborah has created is called “touch drawing.” The cards come in two decks of 60 images and can be used alone or with others as reflection tools. They have enriched my meditation for years and have helped those I companion with. www.soulcards.com
Used with permission from the artist
A web of webs
connects bar to bar
on the lanai railing,
its silver threads catching
the subdued September sun
as it inches its way across the eastern sky.
Early autumn wind cools
the coffee hoarded in my hands-
a comforting respite from the nocturnal
ego storm that ensnared insectile what ifs
in the web of my soul, exhausting me
with their raging
against the storm.
out here in healing sun,
wind and real webs
a Spirit-Web of trust
has neutralized the what-ifs,
calling me back to rest
in the center of my own best self.
© Rita H Kowats 9-9-19
Once again I am honored to introduce you to a freshly published volume of poetry penned by my friend Kay Mullen. You can read more about it and order a copy at her website.
I leave you now with a glimpse into kay and a taste of her poetry.
[…in later life] Kay… earned a Master of Fine Arts from Pacific Lutheran University with a focus on poetry. She received a First Place in the Washington State William Stafford Award and was a Best of the Net nominee as well as a multiple Pushcart Prize nominee. Her poems have appeared in numerous journals including Shark Reef, and Literature and Belief. Anthologies include Becoming: What Make a Woman, edited by Jill McCabe Johnson, and Beyond Forgetting: Poetry and Prose About Alzheimer’s Disease, edited by Holly Hughes.
…Looking back on her writing she states: “I realize I intuitively strove to follow my birth mother’s music and artistic gifts somehow weaving them into my poems. My mother left me a legacy I discovered long after her death. She has become alive again in my poetry.” www.kaymullen.org
Photo Credit: https://www.pexels.com/search/nautilous%20shell/
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.
If Thine Eye be Single
“The light of the body is the eye:
if therefore thine eye be single,
thy whole body shall be full of light.”
like headlamps dipping
o’er the brow of a hill;
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.
The eye with which god
sees me is the same eye
with which I see god.
My eye and god’s eye
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
The light with which god
sees me is the same light
with which I see god.
God’s light and my light
are one light.
rita h kowats