"You sanctify all you are grateful for"
- Anthony DeMello
"Keep your attitude of gratitude and take no
thing for granted "
- Henri Nouwen
The Harvest Moon
"If the only prayer you said was 'thank you' , that would be enough ."
- Meister Eckhart
The Inspiration :
Sometimes just sitting in the still silence savoring the sanctifying serenity
of the morning breaking like the very first dawn the waking spirit
is secretly and slowly baptized.
Suddenly a seed begins to flourish within.
A request by a new friend fuels that flame of gratitude where
encounters with earthly angels, saints and places surface
re- illuminating the scoundrel pilgrim with gratitude.
The soft spoken voice of a local yogi suggests that this mindfulness
of the power of gratefulness is a holy grace. Ego fades as
humility is restored as the evidence of
the divine unconditional love is revealed.
The Speech That Broke The Internet
"Run to the rescue with love and peace will follow"
https://youtu.be/wHRdQVnR3XA?si=WG0hFwF5zfPCt4ji
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The Writing:
The Kritajna Letter
Dear Friends,
The great basilica of the universe nurtures and nourishes
all aspects of creation . Every thing and every creature
has purpose and that purpose is to celebrate the authenticity
of just being as all is meant to be. Interdependence is purpose.
Who is this that has conjured and created this magnificent
essence of existence ?
How has the interconnectedness of everything evolved?
We have had no say in how we or anything as come to be.
Some ancient poetic prophet proposed that "there is a purpose
for every-thing under heaven."
Inspired, this imperfect pilgrim initiates
an unrestricted list of all that has graced him.
This "grateful inventory" summons visions
and soul-filled recollections .
The ever beautiful yellowing orange fired red leaves begin
to drift with the help of the breath of the divine
from their seasonal stations blanketing
the earth below waiting patiently to be re-nourished .
Birds' songs cease as they make way in murmuration
to warmer shelters from the forthcoming coldness.
Streams flow, oceans wave , stars pave the way for
seeking sailors. No thing exists for its own self.
The sentient beings, souls with bodies, seem to intersect,
creating a majestic mystical mandala,
an intricate billion piece jig saw puzzle.
An enlightened one once wrote that within the great expanse
of the universe that lines running from millions
of points to seemingly other unrelated points intersect
not by accident but by some greater hand.
A holy one explains that it is the divine DNA that
resides and connects at different times
and occasions within the aggregate of the universe.
Like a flower bursting through the autumn ground
a question quietly blossoms,
"How does all in the universe experience my gratitude , my humility?"
- JF Sobecki
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The Poems and Such:
"Poetry is a gateway into intuitive consciousness. It knocks on the doors
of the heart and the heart opens"
- Mirabai Starr
"Poetry is an Act of Peace . Peace goes into the making of a poet
as flour goes into the making of bread."
- Pablo Neruda
Gratitude - Mary Oliver
What did you notice?
The dew-snail;
the low-flying sparrow;
the bat, on the wind, in the dark;
big-chested geese, in the V of sleekest performance;
the soft toad, patient in the hot sand;
the sweet-hungry ants;
the uproar of mice in the empty house;
the tin music of the cricket’s body;
the blouse of the goldenrod.
What did you hear?
The thrush greeting the morning;
the little bluebirds in their hot box;
the salty talk of the wren,
then the deep cup of the hour of silence.
When did you admire?
The oaks, letting down their dark and hairy fruit;
the carrot, rising in its elongated waist;
the onion, sheet after sheet, curved inward to the pale green wand;
at the end of summer the brassy dust, the almost liquid beauty of the flowers;
then the ferns, scrawned black by the frost.
What astonished you?
The swallows making their dip and turn over the water.
What would you like to see again?
My dog: her energy and exuberance, her willingness,
her language beyond all nimbleness of tongue,
her recklessness, her loyalty, her sweetness,
her strong legs, her curled black lip, her snap.
What was most tender?
Queen Anne’s lace, with its parsnip root;
the everlasting in its bonnets of wool;
the kinks and turns of the tupelo’s body;
the tall, blank banks of sand;
the clam, clamped down.
What was most wonderful?
The sea, and its wide shoulders;
the sea and its triangles;
the sea lying back on its long athlete’s spine.
What did you think was happening?
The green beast of the hummingbird;
the eye of the pond;
the wet face of the lily;
the bright, puckered knee of the broken oak;
the red tulip of the fox’s mouth;
the up-swing, the down-pour, the frayed sleeve of the first snow—
so the gods shake us from our sleep.
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"Think about how many times I have fallen
Spirits are using me
Larger voices calling
What Have brought you and me
Cannot be forgotten."
- Southern Cross , V=Crosby Stills and Nash
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The Music:
(Musical reflections on the inspiration)
Memory Lane - Van Morrison
