This is written in response to
I’ve never thought much about being an elf.
Mischievous, clever, mysterious creatures.
Then I slept beneath a giant oak tree
and stories of the past came flooding back to me.
Answers to questions I’ve always had about myself.
creativity, Inspiration, magic, play, poetry, Uncategorized, whimsy
answers, community, elf prompt, fun, humour, mystery, poetry, questions, sharing, stories
Music is the divine way to tell
beautiful poetic things to the heart. – Pablo Casals
beauty, Inspiration, love, lyric, Music, Uncategorized
auditory magic, beautiful, divine, heart, inspiring, music, Pablo Casals, poetry, relaxation, synthesis
The onion loves the onion.
It hugs its many layers,
saying, O, O, O,
each vowel smaller
than the last.
Some say it has no heart.
It doesn’t need one.
It surrounds itself,
feels whole. Primordial.
First among vegetables.
If Eve had bitten it
instead of the apple,
From: Sex Lives of Vegetables.
creativity, humour, Inspiration, love, lyric, play, poetry, Uncategorized, whimsy
apple, canadian poet, Eve, Lorna Crozier, natural smile, paradise, poetry, primordial, vegetable fun, vowels
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
by e.e. cumming
beauty, creativity, Inspiration, love, poetry, relationships, Uncategorized, whimsy
beauty, bud of bud, deepest secret, ee cummings, heart, hope, love, poetry, root of root, soul, sweet fate, wonder
The bird you captured is dead.
I told you it would die
but you would not learn
from my telling. You wanted
to cage a bird in your hands
and learn to fly.
You must not handle birds.
They cannot fly through your fingers.
You are not a nest
and a feather is
not made of blood and bone.
can fly for you like birds
on the wall of the sun.
A bird is a poem
that talks of the end of cages.
beauty, Birds, creativity, Nature, poetry, Uncategorized
bird, birdcage, fingers, learn to fly, nest, Patrick Lane, poem, poetry, sun, talking birds, words
Song of the Builders
On a summer morning
I sat down
on a hillside
to think about God –
a worthy pastime.
Near me, I saw
a single cricket;
it was moving the grains of the hillside
this way and that way.
How great was its energy,
how humble its effort.
Let us hope
it will always be like this,
each of us going on
in our inexplicable ways
building the universe.
from Why I Wake Early (2004)
beauty, family, heritage, Inspiration, love, poetry, power, relationships, Uncategorized
building, getting things done, great energy, hope, humble life, Mary Oliver, poetry, taking action, universe, we are one
The hands of time
shift and swirl
A veil of fog lifts to reveal
a precious new life
heiress in a long tradition
of ancient priestesses
She will learn
the knowledge of land,
sea and sky
Plants and animals will bend
to aid her
spreading peace throughout the land
She is blessed
All who come in contact with her
leave radiating a shimmer
of her infinite love
She is time
She is Morgan
Her arrival timed to be
A celestial chorus
ready to guide and protect her
on her earthly path
Morgan is here to teach
Here to love
Here to release
the constraints on earth