winter sounds;
dripping faucet
rhythmic, assuring
that water is flowing
and not frozen in place
the crackling of the fire
wood stacked and ready
the stove a faithful friend
I had worried about winter
first one on my own
but I am living it now
each day
full appreciation
for the slow and sweet
sanctuary of solitude
yet and still mourning
for the loss of an ideal
a love, a companionship
ah the self-doubt is at the door
but I am warm inside
life is
what it is
nurturing
the innermost of me
the simple task
of staying warm
stoking the fire
being quiet
reflective
these cold winter nights
Writing is sorting. Writing down the stream of consciousness gives us a way to respect the mind, to choose among and harness thoughts, to interact with and change the contents of who we think we are. And that is what the spiritual journey is: a major change, over time, in who we think we are, followed by a corresponding change in what we believe ourselves capable of doing. >>>>>Christine Baldwin Life's Companion: Journal Writing as a Spiritual Quest>>>
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Featured Post
What Next?
The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world. William Ross Wallace The days of winter continue. The holidays are long over and daily li...
-
“A miracle is simply a shift in perception.” Mariann...
-
It stands on the corner where Alder and Bridge Streets intersect; the house where I spent my teenage years and from which I left when I be...
No comments:
Post a Comment