Hope Is The Gardener

“You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep Spring from coming.” ― Pablo Neruda

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HOPE IS THE GARDENER
 
On the shoulders of mountaintops
In the branches of Nature’s grasp
In the eyes of the sapphire sky
In the bed of the lullaby land
The soul rests, the soul dances
Like warriors after a battle’s end.
 
In the promise of every dawn
In the smile of a morning rose
In the kiss of ocean’s wave
Love heals the broken pieces
Love calms the stormy shores.
 
When we cannot walk any further
and cannot feel the fog’s clearing
When the heart cannot sing its song
And the eye cannot see through its tear
Hope is the gardener, hope is the arrow
The path for us to follow; our home.
 
 
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Seasons of Beauty

“From the ashes, a fire shall be woken, a light from the shadows shall spring; renewed shall be blade that was broken, the crownless again shall be king.” – J.R.R. Tolkien

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SEASONS OF BEAUTY
 
I woke up this morning
with a yearning in my heart
following the abiding light;
 
the road wide and open,
the horizon afar,
the space between roots and stars.
 
I’m not sure if I meet my center,
beginning or an unceasing path,
but I know my soul shall dance
on every blade of grass,
the walls of red rocks,
the wings of lady-bugs,
 
and the trees will dance with me
through the seasons of beauty,
the seasons of life.
 
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Maybe Someday

“Kindness is a language which the deaf can hear and blind can see.” – Mark Twain

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MAYBE SOMEDAY
 
Maybe someday we’ll meet
where words are not necessary,
for our souls will sing ever so tenderly.
 
Maybe someday we’ll look
into each other’s eyes
and realize we’ve already met
before we knew how to play
the game of spiritual flashlights
shining into the midnight sky to see
who will reply with more love.
 
Maybe someday we will know
the freedom of the ocean
and softness of its sands
for our feet to feel the warmth of Earth.
 
Maybe someday we’ll accept
we can be touched by an angel,
Angel of compassion and kindness.
And when we do, we’ll gently fold the feeling
into a silver envelope and set it free
to sail into the world of need.
 
Maybe someday we’ll all heal;
one wave at a time, one touch,
one spark in the heart, one envelope of love.
 
 

 

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Thankful During Times of Pain

“At times, our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person (pet)*. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us.” – Albert Schweitzer 

*Disclaimer: I added the word pet in the quote.

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Although the holiday season is meant as a reason for celebration, gathering, togetherness and happiness, a number of studies show that holidays are also times of increased stress, loneliness, and emotional struggle, especially for people who are alone, going through a difficult time, ill, or elderly.
 
For me personally, this year has been the most devastating of my life and the holidays only magnify my heartbreak. The person whom I loved, who was my only family here, has betrayed me, and after 11 years I find myself alone, unable to celebrate. Despite that, there is one soul I am eternally thankful for – my rescue dog Benny. I don’t know what I’d do without him. It really is true that we don’t rescue them, they rescue us. We might provide a safe home but they offer the kind of love and joy that can’t be measured or described in words.
 
They will bring a smile to your face when you feel like crying. They’ll cuddle with you when you need a hug. They’ll offer countless of kisses just in the moment when you thought there’s no love left in the world. They will reignite your playful side by sharing their favorite toys with you. Sure, they will take over your couch and bed, claim your lap as their own, make nose-prints on the windows in your car, make a nest out of your decorative pillows, but you won’t mind because you’ll see the unconditional love in their eyes, their desire to make you happy. They won’t just keep you warm while leaning against your back as you sleep, they will warm up your soul and make you feel alive. They will bring joy to your daily life and if you’re alone during the holidays, they’ll make them more bearable. So if you’re sad, hurt, lonely or heartbroken this holiday season, go to a nearby shelter and try to rescue a dog (or a cat…I love cats, too), if you can. You will be thankful you did. I know I am.
 
HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO YOU ALL! 
Love, Benny and Me
 
 
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The Waves of Passing Time

“All the world is full of suffering. It is also full of overcoming.” – Helen Keller

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THE WAVES OF PASSING TIME
 
Can the mountain brook
rolling down the hill
calm our minds
with its rhythmic humming?
 
Can the canopy of stars
shine upon us
and ignite our dreams?
 
Can the sweltering sun
burn our worries away
and warm up our hearts?
Can we feel its touch?
 
On our skin,
deep inside our souls.
Can we feel at all?
Do we know what is real
and what is false?
Is there hope?
 
Why does everything
have to fall apart?
Do we have to destroy
the world before
our tears kiss the broken
pieces left behind?
 
The eyes are welling up.
Is it the heat or frost in the heart?
Is it regret or failing sight?
Is it sorrow, is it joy?
Or is it the burning salt
in the waves of passing time?
…the journey of life.
 
 
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Waves of Love

“Kindness is the language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.” – Mark Twain
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WAVES OF LOVE
When love
fills every cell of your heart,
I’m speaking of Agape,
not the romantic kind,
let your Soul be a vessel.
The loving force through many shores
to share kindness with the world.
May you be the ocean’s waves
traveling from land to land.
Be the tender hand
reaching to the edge of the world
molding rust into gold.
Kiss every grain of sand
and build a castle in the air,
for air is infinite.
Dedicated to the victims of the Las Vegas massacre

 

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Today I Stand

“The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existing. One cannot help but be in awe when he contemplates the mysteries of eternity, of life, of the marvelous structure of reality. It is enough if one tries merely to comprehend a little of this mystery every day. Never lose a holy curiosity.” – Albert Einstein

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TODAY I STAND
 
Who I was yesterday
is but a memory
of winding roads and
stepping stones.
Tomorrow
might never come.
But if it does
I hope to dance
like a river
through terrain
of many unknowns.
Today,
today I stand
as a bottomless well
collecting drops of rain;
open and curious.
 
 
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She Stole My Soul

“Keep close to Nature’s heart… and break clear away, once in awhile, and climb a mountain or spend a week in the woods. Wash your spirit clean.” – John Muir

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SHE STOLE MY SOUL
 
She walks me through her meadows
as if to forget about the world.
She guides my spirit as I climb
her snow-covered peaks
touching the crowns of her trees
clothed in shimmering gowns of majesty.
Or is it a veil of ancient eloquence?
 
I fall in love every time
I feel her touch upon my face.
She showers me
with all her precious treasures
as if I were her only baby,
a cub born in a carefully dug winter den.
 
She lets me drink from her lakes
and bathe in her summer rain.
She selflessly offers all
she has to share,
shelters me from the storms
of the outer world as if
her lush valley was some kind of a fairytale
with a soft pillow and blanket
stitched during sleepless nights
just for my comfort and enjoyment.
She wipes my tears away,
not from my cheek but my heart.
And when I think of the presence of death
she shows me the liveliness
in the playful birds and grazing deer nearby.
 
But she’s not all that innocent
for she is a mischievous thief
hiding behind her ageless charm.
She stole my soul and made it her own.
She painted it in the opening of the indigo skies
and with a twinkle in her eye
urged me to rest my mind
on the canopy of midnight stars.
 
Although I continue to traverse
the fabric of this weary earth,
the sandy beaches and rocky paths
where rusty barns tirelessly endure all elements,
I keep looking up as if
to feel the rhythm of my heart
in the wing of a butterfly,
in the shape of a billowing cloud
in the heartbeat of Nature herself.
I see her love in the seasons of life
as she tightly holds my soul in her arms
offering me flowers till the day I die.
 

 

 

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A New Day

“Not until we are lost do we begin to understand ourselves. – Henry David Thoreau

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A NEW DAY
 
And when we awaken at last
from the nightmare
that shattered our heart,
still with a sleepy eye,
breath by breath, weary
we come to realize
a new day yet again arrived.
A gift for us to hold dear.
 
Even when the fog sits low
and the sun is slow to rise,
when our steps are heavy
and soul soaked with sorrow,
we can’t let the moment pass
without painting a new
landscape.
 
We must become artists
painting with a brush of light,
the faint rays of hope
kissing the morning sky.
 
By Sharka Waite
 
 

 

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Mountains of Lies

“Marriage is not a noun; it’s a verb. It isn’t something you get. It’s something you do. It’s the way you love your partner every day.” –  Barbara De Angelis

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MOUNTAINS OF LIES
When you lose the love
with whom you set to grow old.
When compassion abandons the house
you believed to be your forever home,
how do you reconcile the space
that’s suddenly dark like a black hole?
How do you sail into the storm
when all you worked for was calm?
How do you look into the face of evil
when all you knew was warmth?
You must become a mountaineer!
Tough, with an extra layer of clothes
and a backpack full of food
to nourish the ailing soul.
You must see through the obscuring fog
where lies masquerade as the truth.
Where mountains of blame impose themselves
you must know it’s the rocky landscape
of the abuser’s guilt and a dearth of character.
Where there is a sunset of integrity
you must set your sails into the sunrise
of courage and overcoming.
And, most of all, you must believe
your spirit shall find its wings.

 

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