A visitor roams an empty room
while a choir sings outside
Rain comes, everyone opens their parasols.
The visitor spreads her arms,
her hands separate the sheets of rain
and walks calmly through.
note: A fisherman has given the white heron bits of his fishbaits in the past. The bird returns unafraid and lets me take a photo. The acacias are in bloom.
Books I finished reading: Leonardo Da Vinci by Walter Isaacson and Sourdough by Robin Sloan.
Books I’m reading: Emma by Jane Austen, Wonders Beyond Numbers, A Brief History of All Things Mathematical by Johnny Ball and Reality Is Not What It Seems by Carlo Rovelli
Oblique longings of yellow and red pedalboats
green hills, blackbirds with red shoulders
pink blouse and black shirt
are not the end but a beginning
of Wednesday’s wanderings
Come before nature change her mind.
The winter tree blooming with birds
The birds praising the sun
An old man and I sitting on a bench
watching the river flows.
To walk through a storm
to hear two birds singing
a sense of peace afterwards
like a boat sitting in a clear stream in solitude
there was once a place
on the earth, in her soul,
a place where each step inward,
an expression of sweetness,
a communion with the divine
An abandoned ladder leaning on the side of a house
a bee loitering over picnic baskets
discoveries in a journal as early as five years ago
and one can penetrate “deeper and deeper
into the same ideas and the same experiences”
and find them new.
My grandmother sits rocking on a porch chair
watching people pass by:
a man slow in walking not from hunger
a woman hurrying not from worry.
Her seventieth birthday jolts her calm existence
spiritual hunger returns to her waking
Sunday church becomes regular than her heart
From the porch she fingers her prayer beads,
sitting quitely in silent incantation,
her cat looks on, stays, hardly any movement.
note: I walked along the river in the Riverfront Thursday afternoon enjoying the unusually warm 70’s weather and took these photos.
Books I’m reading: Sourdough by Robin Sloan and Emma by Jane Austen.
Where Charity and Love Prevail
“It is useless to talk when things speak for themselves in such an eloquent manner. There is a clear and precise way of finding God, and we have so much need of him. There are moments in everyone’s life when the need becomes acute; it is when our pride is overcome by suffering and humiliation that we finally look for God. Where can we find him? The way is clear: Where there is charity, there is love; where there is love, there is God.”
–from the book Padre Pio: A Personal Portrait
Posted by fm on Jan 30, 2018 5:30:00 AM
note: I received the daily minute meditation from the Franciscan media.