TRIUMPH OF SPIRIT IN LOVE, NATURE & ART

Posts tagged “God in Nature

When Spiders Rule


A chill wind blows the yellowing leaves off the trees.  They drift down to the ground like giant snowflakes.  The air is pregnant with the feel of the coming holidays.  Fall has truly come with the sudden drop in temperatures.  November appears as a mirror image of March.  November is the vibrant color of decay while March is the decaying color of about-to-burst-forth Spring.

The birds are at the bird feeder all the time now.  They are not stopped by our presence when we come to fill the feeder or blow leaves under it.  Nothing stops them.  They swoop around the feeder and the surrounding trees like Kamikaze pilots, darting here and there recklessly.  The squirrels are in a frenzy as well, stock piling and burying acorns and walnuts which they will retrieve without fail in a month or so in a snow-covered land.

The trees are most beautiful for me at this time of year, when many of them are bare and a scattering of leaves remain on dark brown branches.   The leaves that remain on the trees blow on the limbs with dainty grace in their precarious positions.  Yet these are the survivors.  The other leaves have fallen and gone the way all living things eventually go.  Most trees have lost all their leaves and they stand in stark contrast against the blue sky, the stormy sky, even the night sky.  They are perhaps most beautiful at night, like arms reaching up to the darkness trying to grab at the stars twinkling between the branches.  Moonlight dances on their limbs.

November is the last glimmer of color and in some places the color seems to be predominantly yellow.  A carpet of yellow lines the woods now.  And now one can see inside the woods, so dark and impenetrable in summer. Some forests have carpets of oak leaves– dark brown tan in color.  Or there are forest paths with variegated colors– vibrant crimsons against yellows and faded greens and tawny tans.  The unmown lawns are now taken over by the spiders and, at moments, one can see a world of webs covering fields that only appear in a certain slant of sunlight.  It is the silent take over of the spiders before the snows come.

The yellow, the brown, the crimson leaves are complemented by the ubiquitous yellow, brown and crimson mums that appear on the roadside near mail boxes, on porches or along driveways.  These tough little flowers withstand frosty chills and stand tall throughout most of November.  Hearty souls and so giving in their colorful, velvety splendor.

Soon the season of lights will begin.  Autumn, as a season, seems the fastest to come and go.  I hold each moment in my hands as a treasure, but the moments all sift through my fingers like grains of sand. Then Christmas comes and fades in a flash, and we are into the Nor’Easter blizzards of January.   Another year is gone.  The years do go faster as you grow older.  We go about living our lives, trying, against our natures, to treasure the good moments.  Now in November, at Thanksgiving, it is our time to say thank you. Inspired by the Native Americans let us thank the earth.  Let us say thank you to the trees for their constantly changing beauty, to the stars for their piercing presence in the night sky, to the leaves for their beauteous colors, to the sun for its life-giving power, to the Spring for its awakening hope, to the Summer for its warm, thriving growth, to the Fall for its bounty, to the Winter for a time of renewal, to the snow flakes for their hushed, white silence that transforms our world, to the animals for their pure souls, to our families and friends for their love, and, lastly but mostly, to the Higher Power of our belief.

Happy Thanksgiving and may you each be blessed with the all embracing, pervasive Love in nature.


The Spirit of Snow


The Spirit of snow

highlights the love of line

the loving grace of trees in winter

bare and spiritual

the horses a gift of color

in otherwise black and white


What the Trees Say


Feather trees whisper a blessed new year to you all!


A Procedure


 

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A brown bag
so fragrant
full of presents
and the smells
of India
crammed full
with treasures
fills me
with such desire
I inhale deeply
and go “under”
falling into the ether
of the subcontinent

Machines beeping
the anesthesiologist
himself an Indian
calms me down
speaking softly
plumping my pillow
a routine exam
so much kindness
as he pumps
anesthesia
through my veins

I awaken
fresh from the arms
of Mother India
in the land
of Morpheus
as I lie before
a wide expanse
of grey sky
over the Hudson
and see God
as boats drift by

Beep… Beep…

Oh to always
see the sky
and the river
and God
and to breathe
the intoxicating
smells of
the India
of my dreams.


Seeking God in New York City


DSCF8435_edited-1Riverside Park and Trapped Nature

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Political Wall

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Customer in Local Coffee Shop Window

***

Twinkling stars, infinity sky
no longer can I see,
blinded by the might of
fierce night light in the city.
Now the universe  appears
behind closed eyelids
unbound by hour on the clock.
Energy fields in the sky of day
once transported me instantly,
now I battle noise and numbers
in the megaphone metropolis.
My private piece of sky to see,
sitting in the summer sun,
in the backyard playland,
sits now in memory
along with the macro world
of insects underfoot.
The infinity of the terrestrial lawn,
now is writ on microscopic cells
inside my convoluted brain.
Our little piece of paradise
Our little barn for sale
Home now the concrete jungle.

I will find God here, too,
amid the traffic and the trash
Overcrowded cities can
team with spirituality
as manifest in Mother India,
satsangs to the barking dogs,
insistent horns
streets full of homeless.
Here, too, a camp
one block away
reminds one of the blessings
of a dwelling and food to eat
and humbles one
amid serenades
not of crickets
but of sirens
and the cooing of pigeons
or the sweetness of a sparrow.
T’is true the Divine
is manifest in nature,
easy to see there
everywhere
but He dwells here, too,
in the rat filled streets
among the humble
somehow majestically in
the lowest of the low,
I would I could see Him in
the Sadhus of New York City.
His mighty kingdom
lies within the Self
bursting within the heart.

Have mercy on me, oh God,

and please open my heart

to the Compassion within!


The Secrets of Winter


DSCN3570_edited-3Sweet winter melancholy

assuages my soul

with its

bare branches 

reaching Godwards

and 

its subdued light

speaks of the Almighty

in silent whispers

that are drowned out by sunlight

and the mania of summer.


The Lone Fir Tree


A lone fir tree

stands stalwart in a forest of red

watching over the turtles sleeping peacefully

in their hibernaculum

in the icy pond

as God

watches over us

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A silent night of peace to each of you

and a berry, merry Christmas!

Love always,

Ellen

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Image

God’s Water Colors


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My Cathedral


The wilderness
is my cathedral
Spring Trees at Sunset  (digital photo)
The sky
my steeple
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 The trees
my buttresses
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Hay bales
my statuary
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 Flowers
my stained glass
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A babbling brook
my organ
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Frogs and toads
my choir
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Fields of wildflowers
my incense
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 Thunder storms
my high mass
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A very diverse congregation…

From cows

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to snails and turtles

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to gazillions
of insects

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030 (3)

Deer sometimes come round

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Butterflies abound

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Moths, too

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Birds of every hue

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All that’s missing is you

but you worship your own way

doing charity every day

more than I can say


Starburst


 

“Dear ones, the light of God is moving through me this day… I am in His sea of Light, in that eternal land.  Wherever I am, in this life or beyond, I am always roaming in that eternity.  I want you to come there also, for you are my brothers an sisters and I cannot bear to see you left in delusion.” 

Paramahansa Yogananda


Bedazzled


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“Sound and light affect our consciousness, for we (like them) are composed of vibrations.”

Paramahansa Yogananda

Beware the enticements of worldliness

lest it lead you to the frazzle of despair.

Look behind the Light of nature,

and let the eyes be

 bedazzled by the Beauty

of God hiding there.


Heavenly Views


Wolfe.7(One of my “Free Associations”,  a series 14 diptychs and triptychs)