Sunday’s Door – Intention

A natural doorway. Obviously important as it is shaped with a vision for its purpose.
The path is intricate and beautiful – announcing intention as one approaches.
What doorways do you enter that call for preparation before stepping through its threshold?

Peace for the earth and its creatures

Peace for the earth and its creatures
peace for the world and its peoples
peace for our fathers
peace for our mothers
peace for our brothers and sisters.
The peace of heaven’s vastness
the peace of ocean depths
the peace of earth’s stillness


Quote – John Philip Newell, Praying With the Earth
Image – Pinterest, Mount Rainier

Holy places – Sunday’s Door

 

Holy places can be found in the most unsuspecting places. These are places that feel sacred as you approach.
Do we go by these places each day without taking a moment to notice?

If the day allows, note your surroundings. What can you find that draws you as sacred space?


Door of the day… Mystical doorway France (Pinterest)

Monday’s door 


How easy it is to ‘hit the ground running’ on a Monday morning. In God’s wisdom we are not responsible for the rising of the sun! The day moves ahead with its own rhythm while we easily focus on our own busy schedules. 

As hurried as your pace may be, take note of creation’s ‘schedule’. A moment of gratitude can be good for the soul.


image- Pinterest

It’s been a long day

to fly…

Live & Learn

wings-fly-bird-arms

Such longing.
How large
the muscles in our shoulders must be
to lift our wings even a single time.

~ David Romtvedt, closing lines to “Dilemmas of the Angels: Flight,” Dilemmas of the Angels: Poems


Notes:

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Snow… falling much like stars

Last night, an owl
In the blue dark tossed
an indeterminate number
of carefully shaped sounds into
the world, in which,
a quarter of a mile away, I happened
to be standing.
I couldn’t tell
which one it was –
the barred or the great-horned
ship of the air –
it was that distant. But, anyway,
aren’t there moments
that are better than knowing something,
and sweeter? Snow was falling,
so much like stars
filling the dark trees
that one could easily imagine
its reason for being was nothing more
than prettiness. I suppose
if this were someone else’s story
they would have insisted on knowing
whatever is knowable – would have hurried
over the fields
to name it – the owl, I mean.
But it’s mine, this poem of the night,
and I just stood there, listening and holding out
my hands to the soft glitter
falling through the air. I love this world,
but not for its answers.
And I wish good luck to the owl,
whatever its name –
and I wish great welcome to the snow,
whatever its severe and comfortless
and beautiful meaning.

Mary Oliver

Friendship 

Friendship is always
a sweet responsibility,
never an opportunity.
Khalil Gibran


The Network of Grateful Living