Generous Wisdom | Spacious Heart
Wise Heart Practices of Movement, Metaphor, Meditation & Meaning
It is not ubiquitous,
not demanding or dark,
not boisterous or boring,
but kind and content,
this quietude, this inner equanimity,
this rarity, this royal rock,
this silent, still,
radiance of peace;
it comes out of wind,
a dove in free-fall catching
the sky with its wings
and liting on the soul,
this ever-present entity
of light and love;
it is the wind, it is the sky,
it is the bird, the heart,
the peaceful soul.
The sight of him, looking out of the window, is like the presence of God.
His cheeks sit warm and plump on his little face: plums curving perfectly in the sun;
his lips, puffy and glistening, sit above his small chin: dew-covered honeysuckle in the morning.
The chair cradles his little-boy body, strapped in and buckled up, a toy truck clenched in his hand, one resting in his lap, and he watches the tree tops and the clouds;
he is lulled into sleepiness by the van’s vibrating lullaby.
When he blinks, I watch the lashes – they are soft as down and slow-moving,
dandelion seeds falling to the ground
where everything begins.