Rain falls gently
on the dry earth,
the first relief
of approaching autumn.
As water seeps down
to the deeper roots
I follow the rain
through the unforgiving clay
of choices I’ve made.
Below the hardpan
there is new life
waiting for moisture
to rise and wear
the green mantle
of September grass.
I must let go,
receive the pardon,
the grace of One
who reaches out
to the repentant
inviting renewal
in all its wet glory.
Up from the root
I am like the trees
with sap still flowing,
branches extended
in the gray light of dawn.
This life a gift, given
like a late summer shower,
my portion precious
as a fresh water spring.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reading of “Fresh Water Spring” with music by Abaji.

Time will reveal its truth
on the lonely highway
rutted with errors
we celebrate and enshrine.
Only the humble
will find a key
to the portal,
decode the mystery
of the long unjust.
Each stumbling step,
each hesitant word
tests our muscle
yet we are not so old
as age broken stone,
not so brittle
to deny the gifts
bestowed by the gods.
No matter the hardship
let us find the way
to our place in the eternal,
drawn with mastery
on the sand painted mandala
of this our earth
in this our time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reading of “Sand Painted Mandala” with music by Ahura

The body travels
with mind and heart,
yet spirit remains
in stillness.
Place changes,
time continues
yet where I am
is not disturbed.
Holy the rock,
grace the blessing
of the silent watchers.
Giving myself
to the changeless
I travel the world
while strangely unmoved,
enveloped in magic
by the mystery
of the Beloved.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reading of “Enveloped in Magic” with music by Huun-Huur-Tu

From the cold distance
of rigid thought
barring the way
to the beloved,
life urges return.
Isolation suffers
a severe price,
the withdrawal of love
injuring the heart
in its link to joy.
Return to grace
life calls from
the broad horizon
and deep flowing sea,
to the fountain of healing
and light for the soul.
Let the dark stranger pass,
the dismantler of dreams.
Choose now the path
where forgiveness guides
and welcome the return
to the place where you live.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reading of “The Return” with music by Keola Beamer

Sun bathes the sea
in morning ritual,
the legacy of life
continuing over time,
yet what we leave behind
like summer grass,
here then gone
in quicksilver moments.
The calculus of memory
grows and hardens
while the heart struggles
to send its charge
to muscle and bone.
Grave clothes comfort,
the coffin fit snug,
but life has more in mind
as sunlight calls on the water,
inviting the heart to open
and shatter the chrysalis
of the second-hand store.
We’re not designed for the grave
though indeed that time will come.
We’re here to sing our music,
voices drunk on the ripe wine
of many years passing
quick as the heartbeat of a bird.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reading of “Quick the Heartbeat” with music by Maryliz Smith