Hillary Ann, Yoga Teacher

this isn't how I planned for
my life to look like," I whispered
under my breath as I walked to my car

"tell me about it,"
an eavesdropping cloud
replied to me from above

I looked up and watched
the cloud billow between looking
like a dove and an open hand

the cloud continued:

"I used to be a snowfield in Montana.
I used to be a dewdrop kiss on a lily.
I used to be a puddle in a parking lot.
I used to be a river in Mexico.
I used to be a glacier.
I used to be a waterfall mist in a jungle.

I used to be so many things."

"doesn't that make you sad?" I asked the cloud

"it used to - but not anymore," the cloud replied while wrapping herself around me like a scarf. "I don't think either of us were created to stay the same form our entire life."

"I’m not sure I can let go of my old life," I sighed.

"oh you simply must," the cloud whispered in my ear.
" because once you release what you used to be
and embrace who you are meant to be now -
something amazing will happen," the cloud said

"what's that?" I asked while looking at my hands that were beginning to billow and shapeshift.

"you'll start to float."

and with my feet lifted off the ground

~ john roedel

(image: Fran_Kie)

May the stories of the old ones, the ancient ones, the land and the trees, the plants and the earth be whispered to you.

May you warm your toes by the hearth side as the land starts to speak in the cold and old icy voice of winter, the voice that appears when we pass the mid winter mark; the voice that talks in stories of growth, of becoming, of new slates and brand new mossy gateways.

May you be comforted by the fire that can be lit inside your body, by the light you hold inside, the light of love, forgiveness and passion.

Rest well dear one, warm your bones and listen in the silence, in the cold, for the rustling of truth telling that comes from the earth and the air, the rustling of the newness that springs from the compost of the old.

~ Brigit Anna McNeill
www.brigitannamcneill.org

Art by Josephine Klerks :: SoulArt Klerks ::
www.josephineklerks.com

(Sometime you just need a laugh … )

Goodnight Poetry Lovers ❤️❤️
(Pinterest )

May we raise children
who love the unloved
things - the dandelion, the
worms and spiderlings.
Children who sense
the rose needs the thorn

& run into rainswept days
the same way they
turn towards sun...

And when they're grown &
someone has to speak for those
who have no voice

may they draw upon that
wilder bond, those days of
tending tender things

and be the ones.

~ Nicolette Sowder: wilderchild.com

[Art: Lucy Campbell, www.lupiart.com]

“May I be a guard for those who need protection
A guide for those on the path
A boat, a raft, a bridge for those who wish to cross the flood
May I be a lamp in the darkness
A resting place for the weary
A healing medicine for all who are sick
A vase of plenty, a tree of miracles
And for the boundless multitudes of living beings
May I bring sustenance and awakening
Enduring like the earth and sky
Until all beings are freed from sorrow
And all are awakened.”
~ Bodhisattva Prayer for Humanity

Art by Loretta Grayson