Nature’s Prayers
Still yourself
and fold your hands
humbly
stand in awe
radiate His light
with eyes upwards
towards
the telephone
to the sky
and comtemplate
the glory that is He
An Overdue Thank You!
“Love cannot be had for the asking; it comes only as a gift from the heart of another”
~ Paramahansa Yogananda
And so I am sending my love to you whoever YOU are reading this right this moment. More than a year has gone by that I have had this blog and I am only just now thanking you all for reading my posts. If they have touched you I am grateful. And I am grateful for all the “likes” and comments– but mostly for just reading my thoughts. It is humbling. Indeed this whole process has been humbling. Not in the way one might expect, reading other people’s blogs and finding people far more talented in writing, photography and painting, though that is certainly the case. I was and am humbled by finding people who have a closer relationship to God, more faith than I probably ever will know. I am humbled by finding people who are more giving than I, despite often challenging circumstances. I am humbled by finding people who are seriously physically ill and yet full of more courage than I will ever feel- people who are handicapped and in pain yet vibrant and alive and more full of beauteous poetry, song, art. I have found poets, healers, shamans, photographers, writers, artists, philosophers, teachers, animal activists, homeless advocates, and preachers. I would list the people but I don’t want to cause embarrassment or an invasion of privacy. You know who you are. We have exchanged words.
I started this blog to showcase my book on how I found love despite being Bipolar and having Asperger’s— it was written to offer hope to those who are loveless and have given up on finding the right someone. But this blog took on a life of its own, viewed 9,031 times with 1,301 comments. It allowed me to showcase my photography and write about, yes, mental illness, but also animal rights and the nature and wildlife preservation, and it brought forth hundreds of poems as I prayed to God to use my fingers. But most of all, it brought YOU into my life and in so doing enriched me. And for that I thank you, all of you, for all of you have been great teachers in the lessons of life.
Oh Dying Lily
Oh, Lily
in the valley
of despair,
the devil’s lair,
thou seemeth to be shy
with your glossy, glassy tears.
One day we all must die
and we all have fulsome fears
of dying.
It is not
for lack of trying
your life to live;
it is not from sins of lying
or reluctance to give.
You lived your life purely,
always kneeling demurely,
and though your petals turn to crepe
your form still has a humble drape,
still praising He who made you
in your last living days
and inspiring us to follow suit
in your reverent ways.
Ode to a Lily
Oh gentle
Lily of the Valley,
bowed down in quiet prayer
to your Creator,
your humility,
your simplicity
is your beauty.
~
How like the trees art thou
who, unlike you,
reach skywards,
while you kneel
with sensuous spirituality
in deference to the Almighty.
~
Oh beauteous
Lily of the Valley,
would that we all were like thee
in thy hushed humility.
MOONSIDE 