Storm Cloaked

Photo by Stein Egil Liland
Photo by Stein Egil Liland on Pexels
Cloaked, alight with storm she came:
veiled in mist and spray, salt and brine.
Tempestuous churn with milky crests
raised her turquoise waves, in glassy thrusts!
She came just as she is, I had to go:
to dive, to dare from igneous coast,
and learn what living rock must know!

Winter Song

Photo by Kristjan Kotar
Photo by Kristjan Kotar on Unsplash
At dark of year, my Winter Light,
my Ever-Cold, my Clear-and-Bright:
above your clouds so lovely shroud the white sky…
And in the cold my heart delights,
in freezing wind and frost and ice,
for how my soul lights up to meet your bright eyes!
With falling flakes all dusty white,
that flit and fly and drift in flight,
in restful, rhythmic rounds my spirit dances…
Then all my limbs must come alive,
against the cold my heart must thrive,
for so your whispery, blissful sky romances!
Ah falling flakes and drifting snow,
I listen as you whisper so,
to kiss of flake that flits in flight, I answer:
Come my Dark One, Ever-Cold;
Come and meet me Bright-of-Soul!
Come and meet me Winter Light, I am your own!

Empty Vessel

Photo by Evgeny Nelmin
Photo by Evgeny Nelmin on Unsplash
I am nothing to your loveliness,
empty vessel,
meant for this.
Nothing holding,
offering all,
I yearn so til I’m full…
If all I was could be for you,
yet all I’m not
is what makes room:
your touch my life,
your breath my soul,
your rain and wind my essence;
your sound my pulse,
your scent my joy,
my every sense for incense…

Waters of Inspiration

Photo by Michael Block
Photo by Michael Block on Pexels

Inspiration flows in us like deep waters, like secret springs. Its waters flow freely, even when it takes effort to draw them, and they are always shaping us inwardly until we do. Listening to these waters we learn their secrets. Living in relationship with them we evolve with our creative work. And like water, our work gives us life.

So what can we learn from our own inspired waters? Consider the following:

Water quietly shapes channels over time: it always looks for the easiest way, and easiness is exactly what it teaches the channel. When its flow is slow, gentle, indulgent, the channel becomes elaborate and elegant. When fast, its channel becomes straight, deep, and deliberate.

What form does your own work take? What form has your practice given you?

But the movement of inspiration is not always visible on the surface. It is more often like the waters of a spring, which can neither be forced nor withheld: they must flow whether enjoyed or missed, but they must be drawn to be shared. In a hexagram titled “The Well”, the I Ching says:

The village may change, but not the well.
There is coming and going, drawing and welling,
but never any loss or gain for the spring.
I Ching, Hexagram 48

So the well is generous, yet with too much drawing it can run dry. It’s only by easiness that water deepens or makes beautiful. It’s because of its easiness that it is able to continue its work indefinitely. Water is playful, always seeking with soft determination, and its laughter is a music we miss if we have not heard it for long.

Have you been playful in your work lately? Has it come easily or with difficulty? You might try listening again to water’s song.

But easiness does not mean feeble. Water is relentless, even in its softness, and meticulous. It finds the edges, delights in them, and wears them down in its passing until it finds the way that will yield to it. Whether in ebb or flow its work is in everything it touches, its passion in its persistence. The Tao Te Ching says:

The highest good is like water:
it gives life to all things but does not strive…
In living, be close as water to the land.
In thought, go deep as water into the heart.
Tao Te Ching, Verse 8

So as you apply yourself to your creative work, remember that water shows us a patient process. As a shaper of beauty and a source of life it flows of kindness. Melodious of sound and clear of color, it remains childlike. Can you be a vessel for the waters of inspiration? You are your own master work.


Sources:


Overtaken

Photo by Pixabay
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels
At rest in the quiet,
falling into the dark,
fading into shadows ablur
with the mists of dream…
Faltering into the embrace of one’s undoing—
Breaking into the tired pieces of one’s person—
There is no better sleep
than that which pulls you waking,
than that which overtakes you,
like the setting of the sun.

Inspired Writers

Photo by Michael Anfang
Photo by Michael Anfang on Unsplash
The sun-bright air bites in a rush
with the swift, dry crackle of leaves set free…
All is color, all is life in Autumn’s flight:
one must get outside, or what is there to write!
The bold jay hops, dives, swoops,
on sun-splashed branches, limb to limb alighting…
Playful, free, she shines with all her glossy show:
we, like her in writing, write the soul of what we know.

Heart Reflecting the Sky

Photo by Johannes Plenio
Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels
Gray her skies, so blustery her breath
whose earth awaits her living touch:
cold grief, passing slowly, pulls my heart along…
My lover’s hills arise from mists;
her curves the waters follow down
vacant heart, beating, empty, sings a lonely song
Restless sea past gentle peaks
that churns til misty weathers rise
hidden passion stirs to no avail, my hope is gone
Come my love, for life runs thin…
come lift my heart again

Turbulence of Heart

Photo by Kourosh Qaffari
Photo by Kourosh Qaffari on Unsplash
I sit outside if only to be near you.
I sit and drink you in with eyes and breath.
I sit and stare into the sky if just to reach you,
to see you truly, yet my eyes reveal my heart…
My own heart soars if just you send your drops to touch me.
My own breath catches at your touch, at lift of gust.
My own eyes flare when all at once you come to meet me;
you come to meet my melting soul with all you are.
To be indoors when you’re about is suffocation.
To be laid bare by all you are is sheer delight!
To be apart as one embodied: sheer desire,
edge of fire in your presence…yet apart.
I was yours since as a child I heard you speaking:
yours in waking, yours at heart, and yours in dream.
I was yours as much in terrors, mists, and drowning…
So I’ll be yours, and only yours where ever I am.
Yours though aching, yours alone, and as I am.