Sometimes it just stuns you
like an arrow flung from some angel’s wing.
Sometimes it hastily scribbles
a list in the air: black coffee,
thick new books,
your pillow’s cool underside,
the quirky family you married into.
It is content with so little really;
even the ink of your pen along
the watery lines of your dimestore notebook
could be a swiftly moving prayer.
Posted by kind permission of the poet.
Of new spring leaves, maples in their budding greens, I sit on copper leaves of…
One day people will touch and talk perhaps easily, And loving be natural as breathing…
Today, when I could do nothing, I saved an ant. It must have come in…
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We invite you to experience six blessings in this short, meditative video from Brother David: