The Storm’s Coming

The Storm’s Coming

Warm Sahara air billows its way from the south

Snaking a path through the thermals

Gently, insistently, nudging life on.

Crickets message the approaching storm

Grasses bristle, gasping for air.

The storm’s coming…

Timber shutters slap with annoyance. Thirsty. Dry.

The sensual coiling of the flagpole chain

Chinks rhythmically to the quickening

Heartbeat of the wind.

The storm’s coming…

I sit at the window watching clouds march closer

Like a cohort on patrol

No taking prisoners, no giving way.

What greater spectacle than the approaching storm!

That freeze-frame of energy

Between scenes; nature’s stagehands

Dismantling one view to sketch out the next

In glorious sensory pleasure. It’s here..!

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The Meadow

Good morning everyone!  I was sitting in my sun-room this morning looking at the meadow opposite our home.  The colours were glorious: yellows and greens, dotted with pinks and blues and every colour in between!  Swallows swooped about amidst this idyllic scene, seemingly for the sheer pleasure of flying.  The puffy white clouds against a backdrop of the bluest sky were pushed off stage-right by an insistent wind while stage-left, the next glorious scene arrived.  It was truly mesmerising and I felt so blessed to live in such a healing place.  We live on the edge of a large town, but it can seem as if we are fully in the countryside here on days such as these (in fact, every day).  This is a poem I wrote for summer solstice last week—better late than never.

The Meadow

Meadow-sweet grasses trampled underfoot

Releasing herbal scent-pods

To swirl in our midst.

Summer heat rising –

Shimmering nebula of movement and sound

A symphonic concerto in my mind.

Seed pods acquiesce

Their progeny dispersed

By the languid breeze.

The world is at ease

On this Midsummer’s Eve.

And the meadow shares her beauty

With all.

Outing to the beach!

Ah, the healing power of Mother Nature.  We’re going on our first outing of the year to the beach today.  In this part of Scotland where I live, most of our beaches are also ‘links’ golf courses (Royal Troon, Turnberry and so on), but we love to go to the unspoilt places where the boundaries between land and sea are blurred.    I’d like to share some images of my part of the world with you:

The view across the sea to the beautiful Isle of Arran. Majestic!

A walk through the Dean Park in Kilmarnock.

A view along Irvine beach.

 

 

Charles Rennie Mackintosh’ House for an Art Lover in Glasgow.

Have a wonderful day whatever you are doing! Much love, Anita x

Joy

I woke up this morning feeling blessed with joy and I decided that the simple things are those which bring most joy, and everlasting joy.  Hope you enjoy the poem.

The breathless dawn
Of an ever-new morn
The effortless grace
of an eagle in flight
Cold bones warmed in the sun
Purpose. Freedom. Love.

A sun-kissed hare
Punching the air
A pure white feather
Found on the path
The inner silence
The universal Aum.
Friendship. Laughter. Peace.

These are the things
Which bring joy
Everlasting
Hastening my soul
To take flight.

Over to you:  what brings you joy everlasting?  Start the conversation and comment below!

Seedlings of the mind

During our meditation group recently, as it was a New Moon we set our intentions for the coming month and offered them up to the Universe. It reminded me of the vegetable seedlings I had planted the week before, and which I was nurturing tenderly. I thought we really should do likewise with the seeds of our aspirations. The lines, “Do not force them lest they stretch and fail” seemed very apt to me, both to vegetable seedlings and to our spiritual aspirations. If we allow our ego to interfere and try to force the agenda or control people or events to its liking, then we will not be successful. The ego has to be removed from the process to allow our Spirit (Higher Self/Soul/Connection to Source) to come to the fore and be nurtured, for it is here that our true spiritual aspirations reside and are nurtured. Here is the poem:

Seedlings of the Mind

New Moon.
Time of hope and renewal
For planting the seeds
Of our aspirations
And watching them grow
With each passing day.
Tenderly nurture these seedlings
Of your mind
Do not force them
Lest they stretch and fail
But sprinkle them daily
With the fairy dust
Of your will.
Imagine your intentions
Embodied in reality
Walking among us
With the awe of new life.

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