
Throw it in the pot
May we compost the shit in our experience, reap the harvest of the vision in the fertile ground we turn and cook the manifestation in the cauldron of our prayerful attention.
May we compost the shit in our experience, reap the harvest of the vision in the fertile ground we turn and cook the manifestation in the cauldron of our prayerful attention.
The gentle rain always reminds me why I am still here in this time and place.
don’t hold back tears. There is no reason to. They cleanse and quench simultaneously, strengthening fortitude and dissolving the walls every time I begin to build them again.
My heart has always been my leader.
I cannot say it always knows what to do. But it is what guides my path.
I offer boundless love to you. I share my heart in fullness. What you see is what you get. So I seek perfection when I look to feel you.
It is a very strange evening. I guess it’s not really evening. It’s actually moving on midnight. I spent yesterday Continue reading
3500 feet above ground in a whiteout of clouded visibility I ride the prayer to reach home safely for not Continue reading
It was 1999 (the record not the year). Lynda came to me and Carol‘s room with the album. She’d just Continue reading