whether in prayer or in protest,
speak out, speak up.
the flamingos stood in the shade
carving the truth with their necks –
upright,
upside-down…
and then those moments when we stand in infinity….
if ever so briefly before…
“why are they called pink when they are orange?”
we are all shades of the sunrise and the sunset.
the no-longer-a-kitten
sat in the sun
palm outstretched, frozen,
fascinated by the dance of two butterflies….
as was i.
The fluttering lovers noticed us not.
Love can be like that, creating bubbles of safety, while we dance unaware.
What would it take to create such a bubble for the whole world?
Curious?
To be of service
is sacred work.
To be useful
is
to be Holy.
but it is unholy and of no service
to press those who do not want to do a career into service.
that has another name.
.
Just because you want your child to grow up to be a doctor,
doesn’t mean they want to, or even that they can be doctors….
the light you dim, dims the whole world.
.
we all have gifts of service and use.
honor that.
It was a day of spilled tears and spilled ink,
But thru it all the little sheltie dog shined,
Soothing the rough edges of life.
Some days, ya’ just gotta roll with it.
There is no monster under the bed,
No lumps in the mattresses,
Nothing that a little sacred inquiry can not reveal.
A cat named Squeak teaches me that
The opposite of fear just might be curiosity!
Hmmmm, I wonder…
He pranced along with eleven ears,
Tho he did not come by them naturally..
Smartly groomed,
His eyes sparkling with delight at all in his line of sight
amidst the rakish cascade of his coal black locks.
While the bland human on the other end of the leash only had eyes for his ‘smart’ phone.
And thus they walked around the block,
Together only by tether, each in different worlds.
Please don’t mistake your mechanical connections for real ones….wether they are digital or leather.
Here I sit,
Listening to whoo-whooo.
But where are You?
Perhaps it doesn’t matter …
As long as I am here,
Listening.
On top of the roof
We sat,
For a chat.
And looking out over the garden in the Sky,
Six flights up
We spy
On the ledge
A cat footed dog!
Trotting the parapet, peering below…
Not for the faint of heart these canyon walls!
Down flights of stairs, across streets and curbs,
We find a doorman of the right roof…..
And yeah! And six flights up through the open window the dog came home.
Safe and sound .
I am fond of saying the light of love shines through many windows
And into every heart……
If all life is metaphor,
I fear I am becoming a literalist…….
Yes, both love and life are scary.
Shine anyway.
Ministry of Animals 