zen – Ancient Skies

We Do Eventually Become the River

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When we are in our seasons of prayer,

it’s not that we are sending our hopes, our dreams

down the stream, as paper boats toppling –

fragile vessels, through the rapids.

No.

We do eventually become the river,

sending hope

and the power of faith, surging,

merging,

with the greatest

of all oceans,

victorious.

In the Quiet Stream

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In the quiet stream, there are no secrets hidden

only answers

and confidence, reaching our minds

from the stillness

in our spirits.

The Message of the River

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If I am only strong within my frame, I have missed the message

of the river, for when it flows I move beyond myself

inspired – flowing into all

our oceans, carrying my heart,

the best part of me

into our world,

through a few simple words.

Rustling Leaves

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Rustling leaves, moving with the wind

carrying memories of prayers

and visions

of the green, healing

my spirit,

erasing the wars

with encouragement,

as a light rain

renews a song

within me.

As Our Spirits Gently Rest

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The mystery of the sea is that we can hear so much more

than the sound of the waves

our jagged edges made smoother than stones,

as our spirits gently rest,

over deep waters.

Summer Reflections

A thin veil rippling, as the Mallard ducks paddle softly, silently

across the water, opening the reflection of the sky

just long enough for my heart to reach

through the green, then blue, with a prayer

for us all.

Ripples on the Lake

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Ripples on the lake helping me to focus, on the wind

on the peace within, heart beating quietly

listening for

hoping for

the voice

of God.

Category: zen