heartsteps

I need somebody
to touch me
in a healing way

Somebody

Somebody

to touch me -
with love

somebody
who can hold
this depth of pain

hold me
crying tears
for every woman
whose
being a woman
has ever
made her cry

Unshed grief
running out slowly
in a river
of cleansing salt

Akasa Hull

Easter God,
persuade us that Easter
is not a once-upon-a-time story,
but rather a moment by moment leaning into,
a deep trust,
that your name and nature
is Resurrection.
This rising up
from the dead,
of life from matter,
and mind from life,
and a promised future
where we see nothing
but dead-ends and a darkened tomb,
is your M.O.
This is the only miracle,
that you are always rising up
in willing hearts and souls,
unafraid to hope,
and to be hope,
for a world entranced
by despair.
Amen.

Bruce Sanguin

A Perfect One was traveling through the desert.
He was stretched out around the fire one night
And said to one of his close ones,
“There is a slave loose not far from us.
He escaped today from a cruel master.
His hands are still bound behind his back,
His feet are also shackled.
I can see him right now praying for God’s help.
Go to him.
Ride to that distant hill;
And about a hundred feet up and to the right
You will find a small cave.
He is there.
Do not say a single word to him.
Bring the man to me.
God requests that I personally untie his body
And press my lips to his wounds.”
The disciple mounts his horse and within two hours
Arrives at the small mountain cave.
The slave sees him coming, the slave looks frightened.
The disciple, on orders not to speak,
Gestures toward the sky, pantomining:
God saw you in prayer,
Please come with me,
A great Teacher has used his heart’s divine eye
To know your whereabouts.
The slave cannot believe this story,
And begins to shout at the man and tries to run
But trips from his bindings.
The disciple becomes forced to subdue him.
Think of this picture as they now travel:
The million candles in the sky are lit and singing.
Every particle of existence is a dancing altar
That some mysterious force worships.
The earth is a church floor whereupon
In the middle of a glorious night
Walks a slave, weeping, tied to a rope behind a horse,
With a speechless rider
Taking him toward the unknown.
Several times with all of his might the slave
Tries to break free,
Feeling he is being returned to captivity.
The rider stops, dismounts – and brings his eyes
Near the prisoner’s eyes.
A deep kindness there communicates an unbelievable hope.
The rider motions – soon, soon you will be free.
Tears roll down from the rider’s cheeks
In happiness for this man.
Anger, all this fighting and tormenting want,
Sweetheart,
God has seen you and sent a close one.
Sweetheart,
God has seen your heart in prayer
And sent me.

Hafiz

Whoever you are as you read this
whatever your trouble or grief,
I want you to know and to heed this:
The day draweth near with relief.
No sorrow, no woe is unending,
though heaven seems voiceless and dumb;
So sure as your cry is ascending,
so surely an answer will come.
Whatever temptation is near you,
whose eyes on this simple verse fall;
Remember good angels will hear you
and help you to stand, if you call.
Though stunned with despair I beseech you,
whatever your losses, your need,
believe, when these printed words reach you,
believe you were born to succeed.
You are stronger, I tell you, this minute,
than any unfortunate fate.’
And the coveted prize — you can win it.’
While life lasts ’tis never too late.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

“Jacob, where do you find the strength to carry on in life?”

“Life is often heavy only because we attempt to carry it,” said Jacob. “But, I do find a strength in the ashes.”

“In the ashes?” asked Mr. Gold.

“Yes,” said Jacob, with a confirmation that seemed to have traveled a great distance.

“You see, Mr. Gold, each of us is alone. Each of us is in the great darkness of our ignorance. And, each of us is on a journey. In the process of our journey, we must bend to build a fire for light, and warmth, and food. But when our fingers tear at the ground, hoping to find the coals of another’s fire, what we often find are the ashes. And, in these ashes, which will not give us light or warmth, there maybe sadness, but there is also testimony. Because these ashes tell us that somebody else has been in the night, somebody else has bent to build a fire, and somebody else has carried on.

And that can be enough, sometimes.”

Noah Ben Shea

Gentle me,
Holy One, into an unclenched moment,
a deep breath,
a letting go
of heavy experiences,
of shriveling anxieties,
of dead certainties,
that, softened by the silence,
surrounded by the light,
and open to the mystery,
I may be found by wholeness,
upheld by the unfathomable,
entranced by the simple,
and filled with the joy
that is you.

Ted Loder

Look to this day…
For yesterday is but a dream
And tomorrow is only a vision
But today well-lived
Makes every yesterday
A dream of happiness
And every tomorrow a vision of hope.

Sanskrit

What keeps us alive, what allows us to endure?
I think it is the hope of loving,
or being loved.

I heard a fable once about the sun going on a journey
to find its source, and how the moon wept
without her lover’s
warm gaze.

We weep when light does not reach our hearts. We wither
like fields if someone close
does not rain their
kindness
upon
us.

Meister Eckhart

I hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes.

Because if you are making mistakes, then you are making new things, trying new things, learning, living, pushing yourself, changing yourself, changing your world. You’re doing things you’ve never done before, and more importantly, you’re Doing Something.

So that’s my wish for you, and all of us, and my wish for myself. Make New Mistakes. Make glorious, amazing mistakes. Make mistakes nobody’s ever made before. Don’t freeze, don’t stop, don’t worry that it isn’t good enough, or it isn’t perfect, whatever it is: art, or love, or work or family or life.

Whatever it is you’re scared of doing, Do it.

Make your mistakes, next year and forever.

And then compassion will be wedded to power
And then softness will come to a world that is harsh and unkind
And then both men and women will be gentle
And then both men and women will be strong
And then no person will be subject to another’s will
And then all will be rich and free and varied
And then the greed of some will give way to the needs of many
And then all will equally share in the Earth’s abundance
And then we will all care for the sick and the weak and the old
And then all will nourish the young
And then all will cherish life’s creatures
And then all will live in harmony with each other and the Earth
And then everywhere will be called Eden once again

Judy Chicago