A garden must combine the poetic and the mysterious with a feeling of serenity and joy.
~ Luis Barragan
plants and rocks and water
change with every shift of light
mystery of creation
murmuring stories
singing ancient songs
“Sitting in your garden is a feat to be worked at with unflagging determination and single-mindedness – for what gardener worth his salt sits down. I am deeply committed to sitting in the garden.” – Mirabel Osler
Sitting still is necessary for so many things: I listen better when I sit still. I hear things unheard when I am crunching on the gravel or digging or clipping. The butterflies and hummingbirds come closer when I am still. The cardinal pair lingers longer on the fence. Appreciation and savoring of beauty may run after me when I am on the move but they settle around my shoulders like a soft cover when I sit still. And in the stillness I begin to settle – the cloudy debris of things which can fret and hurt begin to drift to the bottom, leaving pure, clear knowing. Holy moments can happen when I sit in my garden.
“Do not look back in anger, or forward in fear, but around in awareness.” ~ James Thurber
fish flashing in lavender shadow
lily lifting purple wonder
prayers unfurling
hope
Lessons on My Porch in April
red bird perches on weathered gate
watching his mate rustling rose canes
scarlet winged guardian with black mask,
he protects her blushed brown plumage,
has hunted seeds for their courtship
to feed her, bright beak to bright beak
they teach me cardinal rules:
mate for life, travel together,
watch for danger, listen to warnings
find each other when it grows dark
sing songs for each other
stay
twig woven to twig
note woven to note
labor on feathered loom
homework
within pages of garden catalogs
within thin paper packets
ready to pour out
tiny beginnings
within my sweaty palm
rests hope
Seed finds damp earth
time to be broken
shed its old brown coat
and change forever
Receive each day as
a resurrection from death,
as a new enjoyment of life.
[William Law]
I do not skip down a Lenten path singing
my steps are slow, measured
intentional
a labyrinth path reminding
each day
take one step, then another
on toward center
and Song
Gardening is an instrument of grace. – May Sarton
The beginning of a new year is a time to think about what is important, what needs to be done, who I am called to be. I like to ponder and come to those thoughts over a period of time, rather than my making resolutions on January 1. A good way for me to do that is to choose a word for focus.This year I choose the word Reach. LIke these tomato seedlings in my kitchen, I start where I am, break open my comfort zone, shed what is unnecessary for growth, and celebrate new opportunity in the present – all the while reaching toward the Light.
Recalibrating, relinquishing
Embracing this season of enough
Attentive and astonished
Called to this journey
Holy mystery
shattered petals fall
fragrant still
garden gift of grace
“Sorrow fully accepted brings its own gifts. For there is alchemy in sorrow. It can be transmitted into wisdom, which, if it does not bring joy, can yet bring happiness.”
— Pearl S. Buck
Stones and Feathers 