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Monday, October 30, 2006

Plant your own garden

Author unknown

After a while you learn the subtle difference,
Between holding a hand and
Chaining a soul.

You learn that love
Doesn't mean leaning and
Company doesn't mean security.

You begin to learn
That kisses aren't contracts and
Presents aren't promises.

You begin to accept your defeats
With your head up and your eyes open,
With the grace of an adult,
Not the grief of a child.

You learn to build
All your roads on today
Because tomorrow's ground
Is too uncertain for plans.

After a while you learn
That even sunshine burns
If you get too much.

So you plant your own garden and
Decorate your own soul
Instead of waiting
For someone to bring you flowers.

You learn that you really can endure.
That you really are strong.
You really do have worth.

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

I bow to Thee, oh Lord

Like a blossoming flower
my spirit opens at your touch Oh Lord,
Soft-footed we walk
through all your creation
forests, valleys, oceans.
Your breath gentle in the wind
Your voice crashing in the waterfall
Your touch the brush of the butterfly wing
The folds of a tree your comforting arms.
Every sunrise your smile
and every sunset your promise.
A child's hand in my hand your trust.

I bow to Thee, oh Lord
Your spirit one with mine.

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

Fine poetic wine

Reading great poetry is so much like enjoying fine wine, you read each word slowly, turn the liquid around in your mouth, savour the pauses, the aroma, fine-tune into the nuances, let it gently down the throat, let it seep into you. And then after a while you read it again like having a second glass, and then you catch hidden nuances that you missed before, as it slowly reveals its secrets to you. It somehow tastes different on your tongue, beats a softer beat on your heart. And for a long time you sit in the afterglow, feeling warm inside, enthralled by the beauty, oblivious to everything else.

Bookends

The blinking cursor does beckon,
But the keyboard, does it reckon ?
Reams of words unspoken,
Pathways of thoughts untrodden.

And so in silence I wait, for silence
To break its numbing silence.
And then comes a feeling,
Tender, soft-footed and fleeting...

But my heart, the mendicant lonely
With bowl in hand, broken and lowly,
Waits for a crumb from you, a glance
This silence with which to lance.

And still the cursor waits apace,
‘Tween heart and keys there is many a space,
And thus remain my words unsaid,
My tears of joy wholly unshed...

Monday, October 09, 2006

Hope and renewal

Autumn drops a leaf on me,
russet brown and brittle.
It feels like an old dream.

“I shed old leaves, old things”, she says,
“and in nakedness Nature
bares her heart to the winter sun.”

But I, mesmerized by its vivid colours
hold on to this dead, decaying leaf.

Then Spring springs a leaf on me,
russet brown and tender.
It feels like a newborn baby.

“I bring new life, new growth”, she says,
“and in riotous colours Nature
offers it beauty to the summer sun.”

And thus I find the wisdom to let go…
…of old pain, old memories, old hopes.

Tiger Lily and I

Returning home from pottery it is 9PM and I sit in the car for a while in the dark. The sky is dotted with stars and the full moon has not yet risen. Soon, Tiger Lily, our neighbour’s cat jumps on the hood not knowing that I am still in the car (so much for cat vision). Even though her tummy is full with cat food, she still prowls like a cat on a hunt, ears erect, alert to the slightest sound and movement. I have this desire to go out and stroke her fur but I know that on my slightest movement she will disappear. So we sit in silent company waiting for the moon to rise.

I watch her movements as she relaxes and stretches and I send out mental strokes. I am aware of the seconds ticking by and I realize that Tiger Lily is oblivious of the passing moments. So are the trees, the grass, the clouds, the stars…. Each and every one of them (except man) exists outside time, they are just being themselves every moment, all the time. There is no conflict, no tension, no past regrets, no future anticipation, no “what if”, no “if only”. There is only living in the present moment. Just the silent knowledge that God is always there underlying everything. Somehow the thought is strengthening and brings peace.

Sunday, October 08, 2006

The amazing Constable

I went to see the John Constable exhibition on tour here at Te Papa on Saturday. What I saw was simply breathtaking. I could have spent the whole day there looking at the paintings again and again. Constable was the son of a prosperous miller and spent a long period of his life around the place he grew up in and painted the scenes of his everyday life with such clarity and such beauty. He evidently loved the place and the love comes through in his paintings. His paintings have a three-dimensional quality and standing in front of them makes you feel like you are actually there watching the scene through the painter's eyes. You are transported back to the place and time almost two centuries ago looking at pastoral scenes or ships in the harbour or London in the distance, thinking 'this is how it was, this is how the painter saw it'. And any moment you expect the leaves to move or the water to start flowing, such is the dynamism in the paintings. Truly a memorable experience.