Ritual- Potential



poetry in action.

What makes routine

have the

spiritual potential

of ritual?


calls for

taking pause,

for reflection.

Recast routine

as a poem.




the same nouns, verbs

to shed beauty



Thoughts from Gates of Prayer by Rabbi Chaim Stern as related by Dennis S. Ross. OnBeing May 2, 2015, saying that Rabbi Stern spoke to people of many religions.


Only four weeks


white covered

every surface

with snow,


mountains called

snow farms

to remove

snow from the streets.

Hint by hint

of color,

shoots of green first,


tiny crocus.

Yellow daffodils,


fairy pink little

tree blossoms.

Now tulips

in bright array.

Two weeks ago,

as I opened my front door,

a hint of flutter.

Oh yes,

my first petite

white butterfly.

In my guide book

described as ghost butterflies,

for me



Then in the park,

sitting with my sister,

the second Spirit white.

A week later,

at the beach,

the third.


waiting for a traffic light to change,


Each time

I pause.

These white

simply colored


appear earlier than

the fancy dressed

colored Monarchs.

During Spring and Summer

there are many more.

Later in the Fall,

the last hurrahs,

 on a warm day.

Always, I pause.


like a prayer of presence

for me.

I am not startled

by their brilliance.

They calm me

into a

prayerful thanks.

My Mediation Healing Ritual

With my hands on my head,

I say;” Lord heal my mind so that I may think clearly.”

With my hands on my eyes,

“Lord heal my eyes,

so that I may see others with compassion and myself as well.”

With my hands on my ears,

“Lord let me hear and truly listen.”

With my hands on my throat,

“Lord, may I speak the truth and know when to be quiet.”

With hands on heart,

“Lord may I be more open to your love,

nurture others and myself as well.”

Holding lower abdomen,

“Lord let me go of what I don’t need anymore.

Let it be released by the power of your love so I may reflect Your Light

more clearly.”

It helps me to breathe and pause at each line of this visualization prayer. I don’t change the words, but I find that I do change the way I say them or turn them over in my mind. Sometimes I linger longer at one part or another, taking an extra breath or two. I do so in compassion for myself, as I quietly release what I don’t need to hold anymore.

Listening- A Great Gift

Just the title

Someone To Tell It To

invites an opportunity to be heard,

to be listened to.

With the speed and brevity

of the internet,

social media,

and popular forms of communication,

there is

no substitute

for truly

listening ears

and an open,

non-judging heart.

The process of offering safety

to a person,

whatever they need

to say and share,

is the greatest gift

and can help a person

to heal,

no matter

how deep

the woundedness

he or she feels.

Ordained ministers

Michael Gingerich and Tom Kaden,

came together

to use their experience and skills

and offer what

so many crave,


without even knowing,

what is making

life challenging,

even unbearable.

We live in a society

with too much information,

24 hour news cycle,

accessibility to


in letters

that don’t even fully

spell the word.

How can someone

be truly

heard and understood?

Michael and Tom share in their book

how they meet


wherever they are

in their life’s journey.

Actually meeting with someone

in a non-threatening place,

not for counseling in an office,

but wherever the person

feels comfortable,

can help

open the person to the

possibility of saying

what they need to share,

finding that being heard

in a non-judgmental way,

their burdens are lifted,

a perspective formed

and body and soul

easing into breathing

in their life force

on the way to healing,

whatever it is.



we are



life is



when we smile,

there can be

a river of



through us.

Our smile

is not

a band-aid.

It is

an authentic


Putting on

a happy face




or phony

or denying the


we feel.


tell us

that a smile

can change

our body chemistry.

When I

get into bed

I fluff

my pillows

just right,

straighten my spine.

Then I smile.

Sometimes I

have to dig a bit

to find


in the day

that I am grateful for.


as I close

my eyes,

I think I rest


and sleep

renews me

for the next day.

On the Edge of Awareness

There are times when feelings seem to be

just on

the edge of our awareness.

A sudden, uneasy sensation.

A fluttering of the heart.

Signals of feelings waiting

to be



such sensations

are just


passing perceptions.

Other times,

I realize

that a fluttering is

a signal of a feeling waiting

to be acknowledged.


I recognize

that I have received

a message, but only

in retrospect.

When and How

When and how

A jagged report

startles us all.

A plane goes



In glorious scenery

the remains of a plane

the scattered sacred

bodies of

more than a hundred.

The opera singer’s baby

perhaps the youngest.

Teenagers on

an adventure

and learning.

Who was


for crossing that threshold

we all will cross

some day

in some way?

There are

many ways

to die.



Hit and run driver,

a pilot who may have planned

the abrupt descent.

The spikes of the mountains

the valleys below.

Together but scattered.

What will we ever know.

Some die in old age,

of prolonged illness.

Others not having any idea

that the primal fear

of falling

will take them away from loved ones.

How do each of us

bridge ourselves between this world and

the next?

How can the idea that

we have little or no control

guide us to live

in this moment.?

There is no one answer.

Each of us

can cherish each


Moment by moment.