Friday, January 2, 2015

waking up, rising

I wake up
a new day is here
but now what?

ever so slightly
mind steps into this open space
judgement   fear    doubt
how do I make the first move?

I don't.
The first move has already been made
my response is all that is required

be it to make a cup of tea
or coffee
to shower
to greet the sun and morning birds
to taste a dream fragment just a while longer
or to breathe more deeply till the body alights....

so, to be a response to this new year's day
will take me in
to a flow
to choices
and to trust in what chooses.

today the rose petals were dry enough
to fall easily
with a finger's nudge
into a waiting bowl.

their color, once a shocking magenta,
somehow rosier now,
deeper than memory.

I'm offering rose petals to the unknown
another silent gesture
planting seeds in trust.

January 1, 2015


  1. "She's got it! She's got it! By God, I think she's got it!" [From "My Fair Lady" . . . and the philosophy of Baruch Spinoza.]

  2. chuckling here, oh, yes!! she's been given it and she's got it! in hand, in heart.
    the pen did not stop writing this morning.
    the cage is open
    birds are flying!