It's Six O'Clock--Do You Know Where Your Writing Is?

I think I'm going to just make a habit of waking up early.

The whole house is sleeping, and the only noise invading drifting through the early morning is the chime of the grandfather clock every fifteen minutes. It's the most luscious sound, full of calm and promise. The perfect time for writing.

I thought today was packed, but items have mysteriously slipped off my to-do list. And I have hopes that homeschooling will soon get easier. Perhaps not this week, but soon.

So it's time to write. Right now. Write now.

I wish you the same leisure... at least an hour to write/paint/sing/listen to music/dance/or whatever suits your soul.

Advent Calendar--December 16

Perhaps I'm just old-fashioned
Or a little past my prime
I sure don't last forever
Snuffing dark when out of time

But I'm better than a light bulb
For I shine the perfect light
Soften up the hardest edges
Gentling in the darkest night.

I myself am not important,
Yet illuminate the truth.
Take a long, good look around you
And you'll see the living proof.

The caring in a loved one's eyes
The grief of shedding tears
Holding hands, soft singing, crying
Pain, forgiveness, mercy, sighing
Lighting up this world for years.

What am I?

In solidarity with those grieving in Connecticut and around the world, I light mine. I will light one every day in the memory of those children, parents, and educators until something is done to stop the senselessness of our country's belief that only guns can bring safety. Until we start to see each other as human beings, not bullet receptacles.

Guns bring death. That's all they are for. They can only do what we created them to do. They'll only fall out of favor when we find a more efficient way to kill people.

So I will light mine, every day. And hope.

Unholy War

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War is never holy
Holy is the warmth of held hands
Of a blanket given in cold weather
Of shelter found in a nightmare storm

Hatred isn't holy
Holy is the understanding nod
The freedom found in other points of view
Mercy and forgiveness of both enemy and friend

Fear is never holy
Holy is the sweet embrace
The touch of love bridging across time and space
The moving of one's self beyond one's prejudices

Killing isn't holy
Holy is the body beautiful
The clean, unbruised, un-holed, uncut skin
Of peaceful people

The hate and fear we feel cannot be holy
It is the barrier that separates us from our brothers
From the enemy we refuse to understand
From the friends who would be, if we would only let go of our assumptions

These feelings we call "righteous"
Are the indignations of petty selfishness and envy
The workings of the lowest, meanest thoughts
The thickened wall that separates us from our God

The Calm of Dawn

No panic
Just the first golden glisten
Of dawn
On the autumn leaves.

No racing heartbeat
Just the wet dew of grass
The tiny frog
Watching from the leaf pile

No fear
Just the rustle
Of bird, of breeze
In the thinning treetops

If I could bottle this
Could link myself to the trees
All day
The stress would never
Overwhelm me
Again.

Feel It

The flow
Ripples through the air
Brushing up against your ankles
Licking at the skin of your fingertips

If you feel panic
It's from the world of nonsense
Plastered over the real rhythms of the universe
If tension yanks at your neck tendons
Don't trust the pull
Listen--feel--for the calm
Surrender to the peace
That comes with surrender

Pick through the stresses
And you'll find the path
Aligned with who you truly are
Waiting

Be you
Walk the path
Feel the flow
And we will meet
One day.

The Peace of Morning

Only quiet sounds

The brush of sheets

The softest tap of

Bare toes

A sniff

A sigh

Invade the silence of

Morning

The stillness

Rests heavily

Over all

Too heavy

For anger

Argument

Fights and hate

Hearts beat

Steady and strong

Without the stress and pain

Of conflict

Oh, if we could hold onto

This

Peace

And see the world with such

Clarity

And recognize

And halt

Our own words

When they shatter it into shards of sharp glass

And spread the blood of

Fear

Anger

War

Treachery

Hate

I cannot stop others

But I can vow

To keep this silence

Intact

Not just for this morning hour

But all my life.