MURMURINGS – A COLLECTION

“Hawker of wares, what sell you but words?” “Melodies of soul,” I say.

THE FIRE OF LIFE

A fire reminds me of life – it starts with a rush, then slows down, and finally begins to enjoy itself.
FLASHES

The place, the attitudes of time, the dryness, the wetness, the heat, the cold, the passage of creatures,
the wearing of the elements, the permanence of change,
hidden holes, hallowed hollows
all filled with life’s pregnant purpose. Is the silver of the cloud diminished, is the brilliance of the blue tarnished, is the gold of the moon any less –
if one walks through life with problems?
They are all that they are – magnificent in their every hue.
I believe in me and I believe in you.
There is a morality in carrying one’s dreams into others’ arenas.
One must choose not to burden anyone with their dreams.
To sit at the edge of a meadow and appreciate all of the incredible events that go unnoticed and unobserved by the bustling world is to sense the silent peace of God
as He spends His moments laughing.
The right place, the right time, the right thing, the right way …
Does the fiddler know for whom the bow is moved, or seeking self does he play with that abandon that gives him access to the All of Alls?

WHO AM I?

The roar of the jet cannot penetrate the silence of the moment.
Life is everything!
In one square meter of ground there is more life than in an entire city.
Life is oh so grand, and yet, where oh where my stand?
Where fresh water meets the salty seas – the smell of thee and me.
Rotting grabs … life’s giving moments.
A row of seagulls stand guarding the shore.
Tell me, who is chairman of the board? The flow of the rivers, pushed and pulled, tells me of the omnipresence of the Force.
To turn our vital essence to the wind is to travel life’s path with the spirit of humankind.