Victory

Goodness is stronger than evil. Love is stronger than hate.
Light is stronger than darkness. Life is stronger than death.
Victory is ours through Him who loved us

Quote -Desmond Tutu

Barefoot In The Sacred

Step outside the garden door,

fill your eyes with morning light,

your whole body with dawn fresh breath.

Sink your bare feet into the green cushion 

of dewy wet grass, 

your toes tingling with surprise.

In the heart of everything before you,

be still.

You are in the presence of The Sacred.

Pine Wood

 

Leaving the path

I walk into the woods.

Sit on a fallen branch 

within a circle of

pine trees, twigs, sticks, 

rotting wood, 

pine needles and 

fallen leaves,

layer upon layer,

composted.

A decay that 

nourishes these 

silent giants 

whose spongy 

trunks soar to

reach the light

high above.

There is shelter

from the wind,

but beneath 

the evergreen canopy,

the silence is total,

like death, yet 

it calls me

to listen,

to strive

for the

light.

 

Druantia

 

 

Through  a weave of variegated ivy leaves, 

upon which light and shade played games

with my imagination, the truncated tree presented 

a face of hollow cheeks and hollow eyes that

questioned my beliefs.

 

 

During long winter months, while rain and gales 

rampaged, scattering and flinging in a whirl of 

winter chaos, the trunk held fast to its roots,

small creatures sought refuge in the dense

and healthy growth but what were my truths.

 

Thoughts of Celtic Gods and Goddesses occupied my mind, until spring came shyly

through a cloud of leafy tendrils that framed her face and a crown of green was placed,

for a mythical Goddess Queen, Druantia, protector of trees, grounding my beliefs and responsibility.

Being

Breaking light

 ‘BEING’

that which conceals itself,

yet is not hidden.

Without light, it reveals the birth of light.

IT IS

inconceivable.

Photo credit: Teri Flynn 2014.

Nest

 

Trees in sunlight

Can you imagine a warm, round nest,

the setting sun and warmth of feathered companions.

At first light of day to sing creation’s song

of how the world began.


No wonder you sing. 

thrush - nov '10

Symphony

Morning light

With the first hint of light, the chorus begins.

The song breaks the dawn in a symphony of love and praise.

Listen.

The universe beats in time to the rhythm and hearts large and small,

feathers and all, sing.