Archive | November, 2013

A Paradox

Angels We Have Heard - DetailThe silences reveal
provocative answers
to questions only
my heart dares ask.

In these silences,
in the pauses between spaces,
answers bloom like petals
waiting to be picked.

I don’t know how many lifetimes
are required to come to this moment
where the silences
resound boisterously.

What is more clearly so
is that my heart has aged mightily
and now finds
this body too old

to handle its questions.


Private Time

IMG_1601Can we make the snowman now,  the little one asked.   Almost time,  I said,  almost time.   Well, he said,  when will it be the right time?   And I asked him to think about it.   He was still for a minute and then asked me what I meant.

Well,  I said,  there is a right time and a not so right time about things.   Can you name some things that have a right time?   He looked at me and with a bright smile that showed gleaming teeth,  said, yes!!!   Well then,   I said,  tell me.

And he looked at me and said that it was always a right time to make cookies.   It was a right time to eat ice cream.   And it was a right time to take care of those littler than you.   And it is always a right time to put your toys away when you are ready for bed.   I agreed with all of those and I said that was good thinking.

And then I asked for examples of things that don’t have a right time.   Can you think of some and tell me what those are.   Welllll. . . .he said,  the not so right time is when you ask me to do something and I am not ready because I am not finished with what I am doing.   Intrigued,  I asked,  what can you possibly be doing that I don’t know about and especially when it is the right time?   And he looked at me with wonder,  puzzled. . . . .you don’t know?    Nooooo,  I said,  I don’t.

Well, he said, when I am doing private things and ‘specially when I am telling secrets and those are private things.

When I am talking to my friends that you don’t see.  And when do you do that,  I asked.   When I play and whisper things to them.   They whisper back but you can’t hear them.   But we have talks and they are my friends.   Who are they,  I asked.   These are good friends from before.   When,  before,  I asked.   Before I came to you,  he said.   They are my forever friends, he said.   Forever.

Hold onto them,  I said.   Hold tightly to them.   And you be their forever friend.   Tell me next time you talk so that I can wait till you are through.   I know,  he said that you have forever friends.   How do you know this,   I asked.   I see you move your lips and I know you are talking to your forever friends.   I watch-ed you, he said.   I watch-ed you.

And then I hugged this little forever friend who watch-ed me.


A New World

The mind travelsWaiting For Santa Claus
the distances inclined
toward new worlds.
Here infants are
preparing for what will be
their new home.

For now,  difficult it is
to chisel new worlds;
the breaking of rock,
the scraping of stone
of encrusted thinking.

Not here, but elsewhere
the new beginnings will foster
new dreams.
No longer to be
manifest in this world’s
propensity for toys,
in this world’s yen
for fashionable attire.

What is dealt
on a scale unfathomable
are heart’s yearning
toward new understanding.

Of a universe or many
equipped to handle a multifaceted life
of undreamed answers,
to questions giving life to new dreams,
giving breath to new forms,

giving heart to life everlasting.

November,  2013


Some Sayings


The heart will determine what the head sees.   And put into the eyes the meaning of it all.

Times are now the adults need more rearing than the children require.

It appears Heaven is an earned order and until one approaches the place where admission is qualified, one cannot enter.

To gain understanding a lot of footwork seems to be required.

A creative spirit is fun to watch.   It is one on whom the Heavens bank their monies.

It would be to everyone’s advantage to know  that when thoughts are worthwhile they are matched and answered.

It seems we want our Gods only on Saturday or Sunday mornings when we invite Him/Her in.

We take our pet prejudices and wave them about as justifications for what we do not do and never realize at the same time we reveal what it is we are doing.

What has been the tower of strength often becomes later the leaning tower.

The racing around is tantamount to outrunning death.   The happy harvester will harvest no matter how fast the run.

Wisdom is not tied up in the curved body with tight skin.   Narcissism is.

Oftentimes appearances are the table at which we eat.

Appearances are as far down as some people are able to go.


Photo by Josh Hallissey (click on the photo for an awesome view)


The Loving Place


A home, a hearth
the loving place that nurtures
the fragile psyche,
granting each the right
to perceive the universe
as is his to perceive.

Building memories
year upon year
and granting courage
for the hurting moments
and bearing them.
Yet yielding to the greater truth
that life continues to be good.

Granting the right for each
to leave and grow away,
knowing that the warmth and love
of hearth and home
can be reached by going inward
to the loving place

you helped me build.




The Long Fast

(For My  Forever Friend-Cheryl)

001jpgMorning breaks
the long fast.
In the dailyness
there is beauty.

In the neat kitchen,
in the morning silent,
except for the brewing
of the fragrant coffee
in the silver pot,
in the glancing
out the dark window,
to see the neighbors rising.

In the neatness
of physical life
where the morning
breaks the day
and night binds it,
it is beautiful and I will cherish

this portion of earth life forever.

January 8, 1990
Art by Claudia Hallissey


The House Of Many Rooms

DSC_1144On November 5th, USA TODAY had an article entitled, ‘A discovery out of this world;  Earth-like planets.’  It went on to say that the space observatory, the Kepler telescope has shown that about 8.8 billion stars in our galaxy have planets nearly the size of earth with a surface temperature that could support life.   And probably tens of billions earth like planets in our Milky Way galaxy.  This bit of news should send up flares in all our religious premises that have spoken of  ‘our Father’s house has many rooms.’  How else to say to the mental landscape at the beginning centuries’ count that there are other worlds besides this?  As it was,  this concept could only be grasped by the selected few.

Even now when tempers rage as to whether we are evolving or were hatched fully grown and believers to boot,   there is no common ground where intelligence can gather itself and say,  we are open to new knowledge.   It is a sad commentary on the work of those who have toiled hard and long to bring us to the place where we can say yes,  the divine spark is harbored in all of life.    God in a rock.   No doubt it will take some cataclysmic event to bring people to their knees and say it is time for all of us to seek knowledge from where it comes.  No need to sell our souls for a pittance.

There are some who come to earth different than the average person.   These mavericks are placed by destiny here and there to add a richness to the evolution of mankind.   They march to their own drummer and speak with words when questioned that have meaning to those who search themselves for affirmation.   Often they are thought to be behind everyone else, though when questioned possess an intelligence beyond what institutions could teach.   These are the ‘angel unawares’ that the Good Book speaks of that nobody reads but most display.

Those who speak of life elsewhere generally only envision life like ours.  Perhaps we can entertain thoughts of life in terms of other than linear measurement?   Perhaps we can think of life with illusions not manifest?   In terms of perhaps dreams dreamed and thoughts having their own reality?  Jane Roberts, in her series of Seth books in the 70’s spoke of ‘unknown realities’ where concepts of immortality can only be given meaning in terms of worlds unknown to us.    The knowledge of metaphysics adds a rich layer to physical life and we must revisit  our ancient heritage which  speaks to us of cosmic values.

It is time for Joseph Campbell’s heroes’ journey for each and everyone.   It starts with one small step inward in search of our common divinity.

Photo by John Hallissey


Trading Wall Quilts

For my readers who have requested a photo of Maria Wulf’s wonderfulDSC_1615 wall quilt that she had offered to trade for one of mine,  this is the marvelous quilt.   I love it and do not tire of looking at it.   I find new images all the time.   She is a gifted artist as well as an accomplished poet and captures everything floating through her mind.   It is a wonder that she manipulates her sewing machine as easily as she does her pencils and her brushes.    And her chisels, for she sculpts also.  You will find her and her blog at

I am fortunate to have this Freedom Woman wall quilt.   We had traded on September 28th of this year.   I have hung it on a door in my workroom which houses me most of the hours of the day.  So Maria’s quilt is at home with me.   And I thank all of you for asking to see it.  If you click on the quilt it will come forward to the middle of the screen.  And if you click again at different parts of the quilt,  they will be detailed for you for a closer look.   In fact if you click on my photos and also the quilts I feature they will come forward to the middle of your screen.   And several clicks will bring details closer.   I can fill up a screen with my beloved evergreens by clicking.   Or bring snow to my eyes from winters past.   I am grateful for many things modern technology has brought to me.   And this is one of them.


How Much Of A Difference

ThanksgivingIt was morning,
though the night still hung heavy;
the clouds hovered,
the sun unable to rise.

The children gathered for breakfast;
morose and angry,
heavy still with sleep.
Mother looked with unhappy eyes
and father, already delayed
flew out the door.

What could she plan
for this crew this night, she wondered,
as she scrutinized each face
when they exited.

That night the same faces
appeared to sup together;
hostile, unable to summon
the good things of the day.
Seated, they glowered
and the mother, with hope
passed the platter.

Have some love, she murmured
as she handed the plate to the eldest.
Puzzled, he helped himself
and in unbelief said to his sibling,
have some love.

And around the table the faces changed
as the platter of love was passed and
with a whisper bestowed its blessing
by each and every one.
The father then picked up a plate to share
and to his surprise murmured,   I pass peace.

And around the table peace was passed
to accompany the main course of love
and talks resumed and the world
was given another chance.

On a level we cannot enter,
we cannot know how much of a difference
it takes to make a difference.

Or how little.





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