23 Dec. 2017
Todays blog includes a friend/author of mine, with the pseudo name, A.M. Salt. We will be sharing my blog for the next month or so. Enjoy our different styles, our different ways we find ourselves calling up the words that feel like they need saying.
WHAT WE IMAGED
EMPTY PRESENCE
Vast is the presence of the infinite
Empty in the unknown
Spacious beyond comprehension
Waiting for a message
Fingertips poised for the tap
The mundane gathers the call
Waiting for the whisper of a gift
Feeling the sureness of words
That the cosmos will deliver
Hard is the buzz of the amour stink bug
In the immediacy of the invite
Hidden in the folds of the curtains
The winged buzz threatens a landing
Breaking into Empty presence
A thief of the silent waiting.
Hands and arms flapping it away
Utterances of unkindnesses
Knowing the creepy feel of that crawl
The awareness now seeks to awaken
This traveler that meets the intrusion
with resistance and a curse
What say you armored bug?
Gift me with your presences
Share the vastness of this Now
I give you freedom in winter chill
As the last bit of life of you
Speaks to the One Heart
In the Empty presence of
The vastness that is in All
Wisdom is in everything
Jeanne Adwani
* * * * * * * *
If I ever forget
the trout that rose
behind the biggest stone
in the middle of the stream
near Whitefish
the year that just my Mother and I
went to fish camp
Remind me, would you?
Its snout surfaced
to take a Blue Olive
drifted just so over the top of the rock
and spilled into the eddying pool.
Remind me how the orange maples’
reflection shone on its back.
A.M. Salt
