On Reflection

Uncharted paths-

do those words

go together?

It’s as if our eyes

are on the

back

of our heads

so we can see

where

we’ve come from.

Can we see

where we’re going?

If we walked

backward,

would we then see

the path ahead?

A puzzle.

Isn’t life

all a puzzle?

Life-

looked at

in reverse-

seems to show us

what we needed

to find

the place

where we are now.

Those steps

seemed like

zigs and zags

at the time can,

in retrospect,

reveal that we took

the most direct path

after all.

Living Lines, Meaning of Life

Bouquet

Each

friend

represents

a world

in us,

a world

possibly

not born

until

he or she

arrives.

I have a bouquet

of friends,

each one

different.

I find

myself

revealing-

sometimes

discovering-

different

aspects

of myself

with each

of them.

livinglinesreflections.com

View from the Floor

Yesterday

sunny.

Spring snow lingered

on the upper branches

of the evergreens.

As I lay on the floor

readying

for my exercises,

I paused

and cherished

the beauty.

Today,

another April snow

built during the whole day,

 walking became

slippery

even with my boots

which had been

still poised at my door.

Time for the floor again.

Exercises

help me center,

program my body and brain

to help me

navigate

whatever

territory

I travel.

Inner and outer

steps.

Lying on the floor,

I pause,

meditating

on the beauty

of the laden trees.

The skylights

are snow covered,

blocking light,

adding their own beauty.

Lying on the floor

is different

than my soft bed.

The view

is child-like

not high above

where

I may not

notice things.

I pause,

take deep breaths,

savoring these moments.

The daffodils

will survive

enriched by the

water

from the melting snow.

Maybe tomorrow.

Our Best Selves

Pictures remind

Easter finery.

New bonnet,

Spring coat, perhaps

passed down

through

sisters and cousin.

New dress,

polished shoes

or new

patent leather!

Small flower corsage

from Daddy.

Some may still

dress this way

for Easter services,

I may admit to

a little envy.

We looked our best

or so it seemed.

The best outside dress-up

cannot cover up

the violence of

terror or the

insulting language

in the political campaign.

Steady reams of

news

proclaim

more crucifixion

than resurrection.

There are many

moments

of love and caring,

even random

acts of kindness.

What will it take

to dress up

ourselves,

our families and friends,

our neighborhoods

and our world

with sincere conversion

from the inside out.

Real love and kindness

generate

warmth and smiles.

How can we

dress

ourselves

with the

realization

that

we are all

in this world together?

Respect

for

each and every other,

dressed in finery

or clothes unfamiliar.

Garments given away

clothe

those without anything.

Respect

is the best

place

to begin.

We all

can dress ourselves best

caring for

each other.

Amen.

May The Road Rise to Meet You

May

the road rise

to meet you.

May the wind

be always

 at your back.

May the sun

shine

warm upon

your face,

the rains fall soft

upon your fields,

and when

we meet again,

May God

hold you

in the

palms of

His hand.

There are many versions

of this Irish Blessing.

There are many

who claim

Irish ancestors.

The Irish diaspora

spreads

far and wide.

Even our first

African American

President

has Irish roots

on his mother’s side.

As the 69th

Regiment

parades down

New York’s

Fifth Avenue,

I claim a

great-grandfather

who was a member of

the “Fighting Irish Brigade”.

I can do a bit of the jig,

dancing to the
Irish Washerwoman toe tapping music.

In 8th grade,

I soloed

the lilting
“Rose of Tralee”.

In cap and gown,

high heeled shoes,

 with my college freshmen class,

we marched in the

parade in the snow.

Memories linger

smiles especially broad

on this green day.

Do you have

a bit of Irish

on this day?

May the road rise to meet You.

Holy Confusion

I

no longer

make

a plan

for

myself

but

respond to the

things and people

 in my life

that are

part of a

plan or a pattern

I cannot see.

These words

may sound

passive

but remind me

to

strive

for an active

awareness

realizing that

I am

in the midst

of a

“holy confusion”.

Discovering

these two words,

I chuckled

and

remembered

my mantra.

Ann Patchett,

wonderful writer,

reflects,

“Sometimes not having any idea

where we’re going

works out better

than we could

possibly have imagined.”

Blossoming

Snow bells,

a few crocus,

spikes of greens for

flowers to bloom

maybe soon

or after another

snow.

Longer days

of light.

Reminder

that

many possibilities

develop

in the dark

buried

in the earth

of our own darkness.

There is

life,

beauty,

growing.

Presenting

itself

at the

right time.