Words and Thoughts, for Life
~
The beginning of life
Is not at first cry
.
But when the soul
Begins to know why
.
And moves in faith
That the purpose
.
And mission
Are beyond the present
.
In a future unseen
And a destiny.
~
“The mystery of life is not only in living, but in knowing why one lives” – Dostoevsky
The wild birds
Inhabit these hills
And I, a walker,
Glancing down the valley
Dazzled by gleaming lights
Flung across the fields like necklaces
I feel I am connected
With the wind
The grass under my feet
God’s sky above my head.
.
“The universe is composed of subjects to be communed with, not objects to be exploited. Everything has its own voice. Thunder and lightning and stars and planets, flowers, birds, animals, trees, – all these have voices, and they constitute a community of existence that is profoundly related.” — Thomas Berry
You are my firebird
flame-red, flame-yellow
over the ash-black
of your wings
the white-hot
flickering of your flight.
You are my phoenix
my miracle-worker
unaware of the magic
you make in me
.
your worshipper
as you flit across the field.
Sky speaks to me
wind whispers her breezes
Clouds move inside my mind
and all this seems good:
I have seen the invisible
qualities of God
And I
have understood.
~
Photograph: Morchard Bishop, Devon
O avocet
Drifting on deep waters
What do you know
Of the mystery
On which
You depend?
~
Photograph: Avocet, Topsham, Devon, UK, January 2025
The light comes in the morning
like a new creation
as the darkness divides
and we see all that is good
All living things
have their moment of hope
reaching high into heaven
And we like them
feel the green shoots
bursting within
budding into new blooms of light.
Photograph: tree in bud, Morchard Bishop, January 2024
Thin winter branches
Sill alive
Reaching out for the weak winter sunlight
~
As if they knew
In their poverty
They needed a mystery
Still to survive.
~
Photograph: Thin winter branches, Teign gorge, Devon
The daffodils arrive
Trumpeting the spring
And the singing
Of the song thrush
All life
Is here
In the colour
And movement
And the music
That I hear.
~
Photograph: daffodils, Morchard Bishop, January 2025
.
A mistle thrush was singing
As if all the world were ringing
With the hopes of every soul
.
The year was at its ending
But the light was growing, mending
Darkness which could never wrestle ultimate control.
.
No prayers were said there
but a stilling of the heart’s grinding
that was peace enough
~
We walked on discovering
at every turn a new vision
of unimagined grandeur
each differently lovelier than before
~
Perhaps heaven will be like this
a walk across the moor
on an everlasting day.
~
Photograph – Hooney Tor, Dartmoor, Devon, UK, December 2024
Lif4Gd 