My online journal where I share my interests in photography, nature, journaling, fountain pens, bicycling, coffee life, spirituality and asking deep questions.
I believe poetry is very old.
Mary Oliver
It’s very sacred.
It wishes for a community.
It’s a community ritual, certainly.
And that’s why, when you write a poem,
you write it for anybody and everybody…
It’s a gift to yourself,
but it’s a gift to anybody who has a hunger for it.
I come for the silence heard in the ground of my being
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which brings awareness of the gift of life.
As this gift unfolds,
the sun rises over a cloudless horizon,
a fish quietly rises to the water’s surface
and a quiet prayer is heard in my soul.
This Book of Nature has opened its pages of this new day,
may we silently read each word.
I come here for the silence.
In the late summer season of life, I found
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authors, guides, and teachers who have made me
aware of the gift of my wandering soul and spirit
within my own inner landscape.
With no knowledge of an inner landscape
I went seeking in the enticing outer landscape
yet this wandering soul and spirit of mine
was never satisfied, never fulfilled, always lost
Now in my winter season of life
my soul and spirit wander my inner landscape
seeking the Unknowable,
that source of life,
Whatever and
Whoever that may be.
I’ll end this with a thought from C.G. Jung, suggesting that our wandering has and is the thirst of our being for wholeness, expressed in medieval language: the union with God.
To live a life grounded in God
Meister Eckhart’s Book of Darkness & Light
you don’t need information;
you need to be informed by
the spark of divine presence
you always carry within you.
But you’ll have to practice
this, with concentration,
like you would if you were
learning a skill or art.
To grow in this craft of photography requires practice. At the present moment I have over 90,000 images in my archives. A rough guess would be that less than 5% of them are good images. I’ll define good as images I’d want to print, frame or sell. And, I post many images on this blog that I would not define as good but want to share them anyway. There is something about them I like. Which means I have a large number of keepers that are lessons and teachers. The lessons they teach may not be something I understand while looking at the image on my computer. Some lessons may be unconscious and only known or understood until I’m in the field and something intuitive, that spark within me, tells me to change my composition or some technical aspect of my equipment. And, that is the lesson practice offers!
This morning’s clouds, predawn colors and reflections at Arapaho Bend Natural Area were a good way for me to start this day. My only hiccup was making an 8 ounce pour-over rather than a 12 ounce pour-over. 
I hope you also have a good day in whatever you do!
they rise from the depths as nymphs
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transforming from prey to predator
from pinkish-brown to sky blue
oh, this gift of the blue damselfly
I, who live by words, am wordless when
Madeleine L’Engle, “Words”
I try my words in prayer. All language turns
To silence. Prayer will take my words and then
Reveal their emptiness. The stilled voice learns
To hold its peace, to listen with the heart
To silence that is joy, is adoration.
The self is shattered, all words torn apart
In this strange patterned time of contemplation
That, in time, breaks time, breaks words, breaks me,
And then, in silence, leaves me healed and mended.
I leave, returned to language, for I see
Through words, even when all words are ended.
I, who live by words, am wordless when
I turn me to the Word to pray. Amen.
Those prayers of my youth for help have evolved over time to become more about gratitude, listening and staying present. I like that. Prayer has become much more than the words I say and more about the words I hear, yet are unheard. I like that. I can also say the same thing with my journaling, blogging and my photography. Each is becoming what it is meant to be. I like that. My friend shared this poem with me. I found it to resonate with me so I wanted to share it with you. This is last night’s sunset along Overland Trail. Directly behind me is a pond with a wonderful chorus of croaking frogs. I like that. Moments like this have become prayer to me, no need for my words. Well, maybe “Thanks.”
rising early I journey to this sacred place
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where darkness and silence will soon depart
and night surrenders to the light of day
gray clouds have settled atop the foothills
a holy mist anoints me as I watch in awe
the unique waves moving from shore to shore
Encountering the Divine Presence
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in sanctuaries of silence
Where Creation is speaking when
meadowlarks and robins sing
Listening with the ears of the heart
to this nonverbal language
Embracing those unspeakable words
a benediction of silence.
Grateful…as God speaks in this place of silence.