Wet with spring rain
silence rises
into the isolation.
Outer noise quiets
the sound of songbirds.
The few friendly faces
smile as we pass,
the separation
connecting us,
the hardship
common ground.
We find ourselves
in this silence,
who we are and
who we might yet be
bridging the distance
until again there is joy.
photograph by Edward Curtis
Thank you for your beautiful offering…so enjoying the dependable advent of Spring… The songs of the thrush calling us to awaken to the new day.
Although isolated, the hardship is all around us. A homeless couple living out of their truck parks across the street from our condo. We take them a sack lunch every day and chat. I’m sure there’s more we can do to bridge the many distances. Thanks.
I love this expression in poem form of an awakened human heart in this day of tremendous isolation and loneliness we are experiencing together as a culture. It is so natural to be soothed by the divine presence in the natural world all around us. It is awakening my heart to the truth of the oneness of love.
Beautiful words! Thank you Don!
Spot on Bro! Beautifully put. We’re back from NZ and currently in voluntary quarantine until mid-week. Misery commonly shared is a great binder of people, like boot camp. The uncertainty of our situation can open the trap door to bottomless fear and dystopian imagining. Thanks for your gifts!
Soft words to help us celebrate our separation. Thank you, Don.
What an evocative way of reminding us that “All Is Well.” In thanks for the bridge your words often are for me.
Perfect, Don. Some are sequestered alone, others with partners. Concern rises high, fear kept at bay, love released from frozen corners. In all there is both pain and joy.
Speaking to “Bridging the Distance”, Edward Curtis brought an entire race and culture to our awareness. His pictoral history of Native American beauty,strength and wisdom, is forever recorded in picture. Perhaps it is a mirror of who we truly are and who we might yet be. Thank you for the reminder.
Thank you Don, and all those who write here in the space of intimacy that you provide. The door is open, come on in. Welcome home. Enter the silence. Nowhere to go, nothing to do, sitting with you. I appreciate Ed’s comment about “an entire race” of beauty, strength, wisdom. 200 years ago in BC 90% of a People were eliminated through smallpox. They found themselves in this same silence. Here we all are now. Time and space and distance made new.
Well said, Don.
Perfect.