Do you ever have those days where you feel your mind is blank, where maybe you’re in a fog and you just can’t see ahead of you what is next? I am feeling like that these days. Tuesday runs into Wednesday runs into Thursday and sometimes I can’t tell you what day is what. Our lives are radically different, even those of us who are still working or are retired and feel financially secure. Our lives are different. And not how we planned them.
I’ve been struggling with writing this monthly article as I write this today. Mainly because I don’t want to dwell on our current circumstances, and yet, it feels a bit disingenuous to bring joy and optimism right now. We do have much to be grateful for, I have a new settled ministry to anticipate as does Mission Peak which truly is joyous! And I’m beginning to think as a short-timer and know that the sadness of leaving you is fast approaching. And the fact that I may not be able to say good-bye in person is something I simply cannot contemplate right now.
What I am grateful for right now is that I’ve had the opportunity to read more, to contemplate, to meditate, to review my special poems and books that mean so much to me. That has given me solace through this time of change and insecurity and doubt about the future. I feel comforted by the words in my favorite books, the words in my new books yet unread, the poems that comfort me and spirit me off into a different world.
Here is one of my favorites, I hope you enjoy.
BY MORGAN FARLEY
I am clearing a space
here, where the trees stand back.
I am making a circle so open
the moon will fall in love
and stroke these grasses with her silver.
I am setting stones in the four directions,
stones that have called my name
from mountaintops and riverbeds, canyons and mesas.
Here I will stand with my hands empty,
mind gaping under the moon.
I know there is another way to live.
When I find it, the angels
will cry out in rapture,
each cell of my body
will be a rose, a star.
If something seized my life tonight,
if a sudden wind swept through me,
I would not resist.
I am ready for whatever comes.
But I think it will be
something small, an animal
padding out from the shadows,
or a word spoken so softly
I hear it inside.
It is dark out here, and cold.
The moon is stone.
I am alone with my longing.
Nothing is happening
but the next breath.
All rights reserved
Posted by kind permission of the poet on https://gratefulness.org/resource/clearing/
Loving blessings to you all.