Breath of Life

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Every breath can carry us

Around the world and back,

If that’s where we want to go.

The slow, languid inhale,

What possibilities! Filling space –

Moving light and hope

Through angular joints

And the softer folds

Of this universe our body.

Inviting friends to join us –

Anticipation, awe, curiosity.

Move with the breath,

Explore what you are made of.

At the very top of the breath,

A summit, a hovering cloud,

The full moon at midnight,

Floating, still nestled among us.

Allow for circulation;

Every part of you tethered

To the heart of your intention.

Breathe out, slow, sure,

Controlled by not controlling,

The breath does what it does,

It finds its way out.

It is a different world now,

That you are surrendering to,

That you are left with

Inside your sacred being.

You have let it all go.

You have given everything.

You’ve loved in. You’ve love out.

You’ve seen how love carries you.

 

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Day and Night

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It looks like emergence,
a movement from dark to light,
from a midnight moon’s lush wiles
to the redemptive break of day,
and you are sitting on soft sand,
not having slept at all,
and the salt brought in
by each sonorous, soothing wave
has cleansed you so that
you are no longer haunted,
and the sun has appeared,
a revelation each time,
to penetrate you with promise,
glee, anticipation for this life.
And so it is – life after death
every single morning,
an emergence, but not a line.
For we live in cycles,
and the darkness will come again,
to be, always, followed by light.
Do not run screaming
against the doors of night,
or fear the end of day.
The lessons of each are harrowing,
but the cycles are also moving,
round and round, in the direction
of our greatest making.

We, the Flower

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A flower,
with no effort at all,
all day, and nothing else,
doing the work of
growing and rising,
coming into being,
listening to the very heart
of what moves us
to know when to open
her petals
and receive
golden sun,
when to curl inward
to take rest,
to enter a period
of receptivity and
healing.
This is the contemplation
of a flower,
her mechanism of hope,
her bearing witness
in rhythm and cycles,
her lesson,
each day,
in motion and stasis,
in sun and moon,
in the small deaths we make
in order to rise and
to live.
 
– TT

Shine Light on the World

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Life floods itself with life
but this is no drowning;
life will not be submerged.
 
The abundance can be
so difficult to grasp,
the infinite regeneration,
 
The peeking out from
winter’s dusky deep,
when from quiet readying,
 
From having burrowed
far, far down in the
ground of reckoning,
 
A budding into where
time dwells, governed by
phases of sun and moon,
 
And here it is again,
the thresholds surpassed,
the bounty pouring forth,
 
And it is as large as
dense forest trees
tumbling onto the road,
 
As magnanimous as
a mountain range hosting
the play of serpentine clouds,
 
As redemptive as grass
growing through the concrete,
going on and on and on,
 
And it is as small as
a cosmos being born
in the heart of one flower
 
The sacred lotus teaching:
how from murky depths, we
can shine light on the world. – TS

Follow the Sun

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Follow the Sun,
whose guidance
never wavers,
is not inflicted with
doubt or hesitation.
 
The days are strong,
our time for growth,
action and movement
that is spirited
and wild and free.
 
Follow the sun
and you will find
your way to the Moon,
where you can
rest, and listen.
 
Under moon’s soft eye,
let it all go, allow
her light to enter
your being, become
your inner light. – TS

The Forest of Bloom

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The day could be glowing
with smiles full of sunshine
 
Or there could be rain
Falling in torrents, like tears
 
Maybe it has just snowed
Blanketing the earth for rest
 
There could be a soft breeze
That turns to gales in the night
 
Fierce so nothing feels sure
And ground itself has come loose
 
There is always the forest within
So we close our eyes and go
 
Maybe we come to the tree fearful
Or maybe ready for her healing
 
Maybe we look at her with longing
Or maybe we have truly arrived
 
And see: even as day grows dark
even as storms growl and uproot
 
Still the once-ripe leaves will fall,
Still the tree will bloom again. – TS