leaning

by Rumi

Persia (Afghanistan)

  To place You in my heart

may turn You into thought.

        I will not do that!

 To hold You with my eyes

   may turn You into thorn.

         I will not do that!

I will set You on my breath

so You will become my life.

roots

by Shannondoah

stillness

while the seasons

pass by me

year by year

i learn to be 

still, like the great

old redwood tree

steady, constant,

strong

standing tall i

shine rooted in my

centeredness

i am still 

like the quiet winds

that wisp 

amongst the limbs

of the great old

redwood tree

waving its arms

to the sky, father

and

blessing the earth,

mother

bridge

by Billy Collins

Drawing

Ink strokes on rice paper-

a wooden bridge

curved over a river,

mountains in the distance,

and in the foreground

a wind-blown tree.

I rotate the book on the table

so the tree

is leaning toward your village.

roses

by Shannondoah

sacred heart

atlas of the universe

divine 

blueprint

the Four Great 

Directions

buffalomary

full moon eclipse rising

truth

sweetgrass

love

wholeness

saints songs and 

angels

painting

spirits drawings

all

bring me to you

sacred heart

butterfly

by Mary Oliver

Black Swallowtail

The caterpillar,

    interesting but not exactly lovely,

humped along among the parsley leaves

    eating, always eating. Then

one night it was gone and in its place

    a small green confinement hung by two silk threads

on a parsley stem. I think it took nothing with it

    except faith, and patience. And then one morning

it expressed itself into the most beautiful being.

home

by Shannondoah

like a crimson

wing

unapologetic

phoenix rising

up

from

the

ashes

of yesterday

of today

of tomorrow’s sorrows

forgiveness

release, and then

peace

soaring above 

the 

sun

and around the

moon

talking to stars

they tell me

all

i must know

for tomorrow

for today

for yesterday

so i keep

trusting

and i 

rise

and i glide

and breathe deep

the air

as it flows

beneath my wings

carrying me

home

to you

horizon

by Christina Rossetti (1830-94)

Echo

Come to me in the silence of the night;

     Come in the speaking silence of a dream;

Come with soft rounded cheeks and eyes as bright

      As sunlight on a stream;

            Come back in tears,

O memory, hope, love of finished years.

Oh dream how sweet, too sweet, too bitter sweet,

       Whose wakening should have been in Paradise,

Where souls brimfull of love abide and meet;

     Where thirsting longing eyes

        Watch the slow door

That opening, letting in, lets out no more.

Yet come to me in dreams, that I may live

      My very life again tho’ cold in death:

Come back to me in dreams, that I may give

      Pulse for pulse, breath for breath:

           Speak low, lean low,

As long ago, my love, how long ago.