I took a walk this morning up and down the Peace Hill, but without Cia. She decided to stay home and help her gardens get ready for more flowerings, and for the sleep brought on by the coming cold. It was a lonesome and dark walk, inside the shadowy forest, but it was, as always, a rousing one as well. I took along my phone and listened to this week’s Christian Science meditation as I climbed and descended the hill, and it was enlightening in so many ways. I held the phone in my hand and swung it ever so slightly and listened to the inspiring words of the meditation as the trees’ shadows passed across me.
I took several pictures, and a few hours later, the haiku poet got to work ….
lights and leaves and sticks
old pavement staying where it should
this world is lovely
green leaves beside sticks
trees looking at each other
nothing is lonesome
Our front yard chalkboard poem for today . . .
And a poem from long ago and freshly revised today …
just what the doctor ordered
it was just what the doctor ordered
some clouds carrying quietness above her house
some silence holding her in its trustworthy hands
the doctor was the day itself and she had simply asked it
what she should do for sadness and the day showed her the sky outside
and helped her hear the music of her festive heart
and the helpful words of leaves speaking in breezes
the day was the best doctor she knew and she loved its beautiful office
which surrounded her with its lovely helpfulness as she slowly
strolled along with and then gradually away from sadness.
and two haiku poems from today …
the hammock swinging
a small boy laughing next door
the universe flows
insects in the air
thoughts dallying inside me
perfect harmony
We took a quiet, late-afternoon stroll in the nearby riverside cemetery, a lovely place of peace. Here’s one view …
EVERYDAY MIRACLES: An Occasional Journal of a Life Lived in Wonder 