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Words spill out onto the pages
Once mightier than swords
now forgotten by time or indifference
They totter feebly forth
again and again and again
trying to provoke any
response in kind
that they can arouse
In a world of increasing
distraction
quiet words leak from my pen
Pulling the petals
is all I know
Out of the flowers
how to figure
One by one
what you feel
Named and falling
chances are
One , she does . . .
counting the petals
One , she does not
as they fall
How will it call
slowly to the floor
Even or Odd ?
petals forecasting fates
Counting the numbers
Nearly every day, I like to walk around my backyard, slowly, taking one careful step after another, highly aware of where my foot will land and the degree of vibrations, knowing that the slightest molecule out of place will alert any insect basking on a leaf to my presence, and they will flit away.
“When the answer is simple, God is speaking.” ~Albert Einstein
“I want to know how God created this world. I am not interested in this or that phenomenon, in the spectrum of this or that element. I want to know his thoughts. The rest are details.” (The Expanded Quotable Einstein, Princeton University Press, 2000 p.202)
Bound is a striking word, meaning both action and restraint. Are we bound to this earth? Can anyone be bound for glory? How bound and determined do we have to be? Is everyone eventually bound to find out?
"Banish the word 'struggle' from your attitude and your vocabulary. All that we do now must be done in a sacred manner and in celebration.
We are the ones we have been waiting for." — Hopi elders
