Reflections

Out of Darkness

One morning early in Advent,                I sat in the quiet darkness of my room,                 resisting the lamp switch next to me.                It seemed good                        just to be there,                        waiting, in Advent mode,                        allowing the dark,                        allowing earth’s rhythm,                        claiming, changing nothing,simply aware,one with the universe feeling a peacefulness, a quiet active presence, like the seed in the ground, perhaps. And then, the…

Reflections

WEAVING FOR LIFE

She who reconciles the ill-matched threads of her life, and weaves them gratefully into a single cloth Rilke, Love Songs to God Somewhere (was it in Africa or South America?), I watched an indigenous woman at the loom. She sat behind the weaving where the ill-matched threads made a confusion of colors. She worked the…