I walk through this park,
accompanied, yet alone.
Reluctant leaves bid me farewell.
Categories
An Eternal October Saturday
Tag: awareness
Categories
Blank Truths
Lily, fragrant white,
captures the promise of day,
not to be defined.
Categories
Seeing Clearly
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Without the noise of the television I reject lately for my own search of thoughts, words, digging deep into past flashes of experiences, and the people who messaged the meanings then, I silently fold socks in the hours of just waking.Three baskets of clothes finally washed and dried after 10pm last night wait until before daybreak for their proper folds.
All the sportswear shirts I fold and stack one on top of the other, similar to the way store clerks make displays look uniform, somewhat neat – inviting a buyer to stop and think about a purchase. Then the pants, smoothing the material, making the cuffs aligned and even, and when I find a sock, I just pile them together until all the other clothes are finished, stacked, and folded.
Picking out matching socks is usually easy, except for the faded, worn ones from a convenience package of maybe four pair or more. You spot colors, styles, patterns, marks, writing or brand, degree of use, and other elements to make an adequate match if not the exact one every time.
Once almost finished, I spot a sock with writing – a saying my mother used to always use as an admonition – No Nonsense. I wonder what she would say today with a world covered in grime, crime, alternative facts, and deliberate malice towards many if not all…all under a relabeling of “freedom”…
My slow smile breaks as I envision her presence then, remember her principle, and that expression very often suggesting when actions were on the verge of crossing a line. It was her way of giving advanced warning – a sign. And at this moment on a silent morning in July 2025, the meaning of messages through signs seems so transparent, so clean a wash waiting to be ordered, folded, presented. And then the song from the past, Signs – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oeT5otk2R1g
Where there’s gratitude, like Signs, we become miraculously able to perceive them through the veils of our everyday lives…as they remain forever present.
June 22, 2025
He who loves brings God and the World together.
Martin Buber (2013). “On Judaism”, p.212, Schocken
Categories
Just Let Go…
June 10, 2025
Approximately two years ago, I learned about the wispy anemone flower, the “Grecian windflower” and purchased a mixture of bulbs, unsure about their colors. I recall planting them in a large, gray container and despite some green leaves, there was nothing noticeable…until this year.
Maybe it’s the coolness of this 2025 spring, or the gentle rain again today as the Heavens weep for human ignorance, arrogance minus repentance…yet.
Yesterday morning, already late, I locked the front door and moved towards the car…a butter-yellow flash interrupted my rush. Moving towards the planter, I found three full, forgotten anemone blooms who seemed to greet me with smiles and project a message.
Their butter-yellow color suggests cheer, optimism, good fortune while the mythology reflects the long love of Aphrodite and Adonis, who was killed by a wild boar during a hunt. With several explanations for the meaningful story, Adonis dying in Aphrodite’s arms, covered with her tears, is said to represent death & rebirth. To echo Thomas Berry, Earth is a communion of subjects, not a collection of objects, and exists, survives only in Her integral functioning. Earth must be the primary concern of every human institution, profession, program and activity. In economics, for instance, the first law of economics must be the preservation of the Earth economy. A rising Gross National Product with a declining Gross Earth Product reveals the absurdity of our present economy. It should be clear, in the medical profession, that we cannot have healthy people on a sick planet. (Thomas Berry, The Dream of the Earth)
This messaging has been given consistently over mammoth stretches of time and throughout all cultures. Take a moment to stop from the rush, the noise and negativity to select your moment of letting go of predictable schedules. Impose an intentional silence and let your attention drift to listening well, feeling a moment, discerning communication, connecting with mutual appreciation and comprehending the messages transforming into your consequential action. This is how Spirit speaks.
(Find the symbolism & meaning through Nature or traditions of all cultures – https://padrepioministry.org/prayers-information/surrender-novena/ – access is infinite.)
Categories
Sunday Revelations
May 25, 2025
French Rose-Pink faces
as I stroll through this Sunday
greet me with each step.
Memorial Day weekend brings memories. Sun is fading now behind clouds uneasy to say goodbye. This spring is cool, with so far just enough rain, yet each breath for tomorrow is unknown. Roses speak.
The more we allow the Silence of our surroundings to speak, the more our hearts can listen to the truths they beg to tell. All is a part of them as they are a part of us all. We share their time, space, beauty, life. When this becomes the gift fully comprehended…all things will transform. For this moment, we await.
Categories
Blooms Before Sunset
26 May 2024
Yesterday afternoon spring flowers grinned in their silence. These neighborhood suburban streets remained abandoned, much like the beginnings of 2020 when more crucial questions let Nature breathe. Maybe people were boardwalking the beaches, cheering military air shows, or swaying from one unbeatable faithful store sale to the next that most holidays bring.
I reached across the quiet to imagine the garden plants’ thoughts. This year the sage sprouts full, pale lavender flowers on every stem, guaranteeing a bouquet of savory leaves for summer dishes of garlic sage butter for pasta to offer me memories lasting through winter risottos.
A childhood woodland past shadows my path as the small Mountain Laurel displays bright red buds, ready to spring into bright pink spring flowers. An occasional yellow leaf with blight reminds me this woodland plant needs special care in an unpredictable suburban neighborhood like this one. Apparently, we aren’t much different in that respect.
A newly purchased groundcover, Saponaria ocymoides (Rock Soapwort) reaches across barren, rocky dirt bringing pale pink flowers of prolific blooms that one can only pray will multiply and spread. Isn’t that the ultimate hope for all the goodness we try to accomplish?
And finally, after three years of questioning, the roses return with vibrancy and love, as if to guarantee that despite their absence, our directives as misfits that many learn to discover, we still grow among them, and are Loved.
Categories
Seeking Trust at Dawn
18 May 2024
Walking in the backyard predawn silence of this suburb, I hear the cooing of a mourning dove before any other sound. This year, after several others of seasonal instabilities, the purple clematis bursts grand with a determined hue of strength – this, despite the cool spring temperatures, clouds, rain…
The flowers’ brilliance widens across its trellis, faithful blooms this May in an overshadowed portion of an otherwise unremarkable periphery garden bed.
This moment of color and sound helps me find hope and gratitude in the extensions of a life of questioning, facing this void alone, always seeking to trust. And I’m deeply grateful for the wisdom, kindness, light, and friendship that may pass to me each day, keenly aware of all it means as my arms and heart remain open.
Categories
Today’s Visit
28 March 2024
Torrents of rain continued up the East Coast and lingered over Long Island all day today. Sometimes stronger showers, sometimes cold drizzle but always weighing heavy, an impassible slow-moving storm system on this dragging day.
In the morning, by chance, I found a Holy Thursday celebration in Rome on Vatican Media. Pope Francis in Rome at a correction facility, Rebibbia Prison, and this year, he washed the feet of only women. The humility in his words and actions exemplified heartfelt service to be learned through His Example. To witness this, in a precarious world that we are witnessing today, brought me tears.
In 2021, during the winter of the pandemic, I met Maria. She was collecting bottles and cans for recycling in the neighborhood. We met, exchanged introductions and thus began a connection. Now, in 2024, I make it a point to call, reserve my cans and bottles for her biweekly pickup, along with any food or household items I may find during weekly shopping trips. She always stops by 1pm if she can make it. Today, I called in the morning to confirm her arrival. No answer. I left a few text messages, but no reply. The usual 1pm hour came and went, but no sign or return call from Maria. Then by about 1:40pm a message. “I am around…I’ll be there.”
By 2pm, I noticed someone at the door. Maria was standing at the front door, drenched from the rain rolling down her raincoat. She met me with a broad smile, seemingly without a concern or care in the world. “My car broke down. This is my son.” Next to her, a tall, lean adolescent boy, maybe about 14 or 15 years old with a gentle, kind gaze smiled at me. I extended my arms with a full bag of groceries and placed it in the young man’s grasp.
There he was, still smiling as he accepted the bag. Maria stood alongside him, very proud of the young man accompanying her, helping her maneuver this moment in their life, on this recreation of this Holy Thursday – the last visit of Jesus with His Disciples, in acceptance of both the positive and negative and appreciating life as it unfolds with smiles, kindness, and a gentleness that struck me as a level of spirituality that is rare these days. “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of God…” Matthew:5