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One Answer to Prayer

Posted in Birthing Beauty, Divine Dialogues, Featured, Reflections & Visions

One Answer to Prayer

My child, I come to you here, and find my infinite pleasure in your call to me. The touch of your voice directed to me is my pleasure, and at times, my pain. But you always return to me my faithful one. I can count on your being here each morning and so you may trust I am with you morning, noon, and night. I am lifting you up even now in all your labors and you will know all the benefits of your calling. Each step has been ordained for you to establish our name. Your light is lit and you will shine professor of light and teacher of enlightenment. Your lamp will indeed shine to the far corners of this room. Set on a hill, you will be a beacon to those who seek a center for their compass-rose. Rest a moment now in the glow of this flame that burns in you and trim your lamp to whiten your color and enhance the reach of the rays that spring from you and I. Profess the light. Raise your voice in a visible song that we may travel to the infinite together. Rise up to the voice of angels with the light of heaven about us now. Rise up, and receive your reward in the light of...

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The Cusp of Light and Shadow

Posted in Birthing Beauty, Featured

The Cusp of Light and Shadow

In the morning when the light strikes white across the mounded snow, and the tree-trunk’s shadow slashes boldly up the undulated slope, I take a moment to speak my mind, if only to my Self. The occasional sparkle outside only shows when you observe closely. So too the occasional sparkle inside reveals itself only on close observation. There is detail even in the shadows should I choose to look And green life, young and old, emerges from even the deepest drift. That little sprout, standing alone, at the cusp of light and shadow Which seems so insignificant in the big picture holds such charm on close inspection. Its form is full of promise and a wayward fulsome desire for life. One tender, slender limb stretches out far beyond the cluster Green palm, green fingers reaching yearning for the warmth of the morning light. So too this new life new perspective which has gained its sturdy foothold within Claims its patch of warm earth striving up through the crusted icy snow Reaching blind yet unerringly for the light which sustains its most energetic soul And its heat reflecting melts a dimpled home for itself in the drift. Vibrant life full of promise rooted beneath the chill evidence of yesterday’s storm Striving irresistibly upward into today’s light and tomorrow’s. ttorus...

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Dipped in Liquid Light

Posted in Divine Dialogues, Featured

Dipped in Liquid Light

It is morning, before the dawn, and my heart goes out to you Lord. The light has yet to arrive from that orb You have ordained to rise each day and light our pretty planet. I light a few candles for a softening glow across the pages as the ink does its work carrying what is inside, out.   My heart, you are softened today. The quiet is welcome Outside and in. Yearnings, for this moment are held at bay And I gaze inside at a horizon of peace.   I have seen the moon at its full bright through the silhouetted branches and leaves of the evening trees And this has been pleasant to my soul.   I have seen the herons Both in the sparkling light of morning at the bay as the gulls laughed And in the evening rosy glow of setting day. They stand erect so patiently legs dipped in liquid light awaiting a meal to come swimming by as it will When their head, and that curve of neck dashes forward faster than perception to gather in the harvest.   Lord give me that patience give me that surety grant me that life standing in liquid light certain of my daily bread While the sun makes its rounds from morning till night.     ttorus  9/30/07 Stony Brook...

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Sand-Castle

Posted in Birthing Beauty, Featured

Sand-Castle

Sad, that one person can enter your life to bring such renewed perspective and strength, only to have another enter with chisels, axes, a sawzall, to tear down, with zeal and determination, the edifice of your meticulously-raised sand-castle. One child full of laughter, with smiling eyes, joins you in the sun and salty breeze at the edge of the surging tide, To playfully contribute to your sand-castle her own sea-shells sea-weed pods and tufts of heather, Then laughing, runs away. While another much bigger with more resonant laugh comes stomping brutish in the midst of your lovingly-built world To stand astride its ruin defiant in heavy boots, beefy fists cockily planted on hips green-giant-like But jolly not. How easy to remember the ruin the double salted tears bitten back and spiced with wind-borne salt spray stinging. How easy to remember that passion in destruction. But I choose rather to remember the wind-swept curls with sun’s halo The laughing eyes That last touch of yellow-flowered heather placed so lovingly on the parapets. How light her step tread of an angel As she dancingly retreated at the fringes of white-foamed whispering surf. So soon her dimpled footprints disappeared as each wave after wave did its work to erase her passing Transforming her footsteps back to native washed sand each grain carried, even now, closer to that equatorial realm which is the destination of all the tides. This I will remember and take heart. This I will remember and rejoice.   ttorus 1/12/96 revised...

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Cross-Weave

Posted in Birthing Beauty, Featured

Cross-Weave

In each of us there are such awesome potentials, such grandeurs, hope ever rekindling. Let that light ever burn in me, as at this moment. Fresh as morning, filled with the breeze of the morrow which so often billows our sails till the spars creak, the canvas-weave stretches fine, and the lines are so taught as to sing in the wind. Deep notes, breeze notes, the natural hum of the earth in rotation, while the moon tugs and dances in its arms. A loving universal dance all expressed in this one breeze one boat one set of sail. And when once again my sails should luff and pop in directionless gusts, let me remember the wind and splash the gleam of the sun in dazzling array just over there. If I understand this wind and its recurrence, we will be there soon enough. Not to collect those gemstones but to treasure the joyous dip of a prow perfectly designed to cleave these waters, To break the chop and clap of contrary ripple Till we reach that spot that spot on the horizon So full of light and good reflectance, at play with such intimations of childhood buried recollection of innocent days, when that same gleam called out to our hearts with unmistakable glory Called and tugged irresistibly on heartstrings stretched to the limits of vision. Here now that same horizon, here today. Only our heartstrings have been shortened. Stretch out! Stretch out! my heartstrings. Like the silken cross-weave of spiders’ web, catching the morning dew, in its turn to catch the golden glorious morning light. Stretch out! Stretch out! and let the wet settle on this weave, till each new drop, heavy with the accumulated contribution of each misty droplet, stretches itself, magnifying its own small frame of the distant perspective in a gleaming fleeting yearning grasp towards the earth Then falling, round again, to meet its appointed place on this earth. Stretch out, my heartstrings and capture the mists which would pass otherwise unnoticed and uneventful, Never to gather or share in meaning. Gather the mists of this life in unique reunion. ttorus...

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