Connecting

Trees

I have been lost in feelings before, wandering, awestruck as in a forest of mighty redwoods soaring to the heavens, the air rich with the scent of a recent rain. 

Our range of senses allows us to walk into parts of our world beyond what we can see. Our emotions incorporate that information into our souls. We experience the scent of that recent rain and it embeds itself in our minds connecting information with feeling, enlivening something in us that had been sleeping.

An Idea

My thoughts are stilled by

The sudden light of 

A new idea that seeks to

Emerge over the brim of

The sides of my mind.

Waiting; holding their collected 

breaths, the swirls in my 

Mind unswirl and line up

Straight and somber to 

See what this will be. 

Critical, eager anticipations of

The old and true stack up

And overlap each other betting for

Themselves to win and stay or

For the fresh to overcome. 

Before Idea has a chance at

All to see what it is up 

Against the lines are

Drawn and the rules 

Are laid out. 

Peeking out and over the 

Edge, taking jeers and cheers, 

a decision is made  

to rise up or slump back down into

The basin of the pool it came from.

It always goes this way with

New thoughts, it seems, they

Start out shining bright with

Light from deep in its essence and

Prior to birth either ignite or defuse.

How Deeply

How deeply your words fall into my heart. 

Inspired by Angela Fehr

They drop in over the edge and descend, 

Plummeting downward,

Spiraling downward,

Spinning as they fall,

Drilling into the soil of my soul.

Lodging in me.

Planted.

Words Float

I realize just now that I am sad to have not heard my friend’s response to my words. I had forgotten, I suppose, that they were waiting there in the air, hovering, seeking permission to come back home. Words’ purpose is to bring a message sent; to move a thought from one mind, one heart to another. If the words never return home, how does the sender know they have done their job? Have they moved the thought across time and space and made room for themselves in their recipient’s soul? 

But the good news is that even as they wait and hover, they hold perpetually the hope they were sent out with. The words forever encase and carry the thought with which they were born. And if the coming winds might blow them closer to their target, or send them on to find a new one, they always hold the hope they first held. What a beautiful truth that is.