The tiniest parts of us
are what appear,
stuff you can see
like clouds off the ocean
and big drop rain.
We open like mountains,
dive in cold water,
yet this spark of light
we give a name
is but a glimmer,
like snow melt
and passing leaves.
We show our faces
then are gone,
and like rivers we pour.
The tiniest glimmer that we see with our eyes is but a small part of WHO WE ARE…thanks for the reminder……..
I really like the “pouring” part, Don — something so satisfying about that shift in identity. Never less than, always more than.
Thanks for your beautiful work.
Yes, it’s such mystery…
I love this dad.
Shared across all social media platforms. Don, you’re on fire!
Don, this is simply beautiful. My thanks.
With these images, I stop .. and clearly hear my love for Life opening, cherishing, and expressing more fully .. each glimmer, each breath. Thank you Don!
Your words, such tiny parts of the great flow of being, yet they take me into the river that pours. With gratitude.
This poem makes me think of the river that also flows through and around me. Testimony to the fluidity of life flowing everywhere…even through and over our Earth. I am reminded of a Nova episode, Earth From Space, that revealed the immense patterns of flow that can take thousands of years to complete the cycle. Grateful to know of our small, yet significant, contribution to the greatness that is life.
Thanks Don, I love the way you go deep, leaving unsaid, the unfathomable
mystery yet to be.
….ice jams notwithstanding. In trust of life’s constant creative process divine radiance melts them, and flows inexorably. Ask river molecules and they will tell us true!–they are bound for their homeland (water?) What about me? What about you?