The Cloud of Unknowing

Summer Reading, August 2024

                        God, to you all hearts are open, 

                        to you all longings speak, 

                        and to you no secret thing is hidden. 

                        I beg you -- 

                        purify the intentions of my heart 

                        through the unspeakable gift of your grace, 

                        so I can love you with all I am 

                        and praise you for all you are. 

                        Amen.

* Tonight is an exception. I usually use my own words, but the prayer from the preface of "The Cloud of Unknowing" has become one of my favorites.

Just over the fence

Rangoon Vine, August 2024

Just over the fence

a late summer bouquet bends 

toward the glowing sky

One Thousand

Gulf Fritillary on Shrimp Plant, August 2024

One thousand moments,

gifts delivered day by day

to my waiting heart

*Today marks my 1,000th post. One thousand days I have been visited by a gentle and gracious Presence in the world. One thousand times I snapped a photo and counted syllables for a haiku or offered a prayer or blessing. If you are reading this, thank you for being part of my passion project, my healing project. May it be a blessing. 

 

Silence

 

Blinded Sphinx Moth, August 2024

Silence comes to rest 

outside my door -- somehow

knowing I need her

In the Weeds

The Weeds, August 2024

When I see the weeds

in you and you in me, will

we love anyway?

Do I rush to dig

and pull before I confirm

what's really growing? 

Can I place my trust

in the One who tends our lives

with the greatest care?

Shadow into light

Japanese Beetle, August 2024

We all make our way

across the rough places from

shadow into light

Fearfully and wonderfully made

Black Swallowtail, August 2024

Farewell confinement

each detail of your new form

is pure perfection

 

It's alright

Verbena, August 2024

 

It's alright to fall

into your own reverie

on late summer days

A small bouquet of blessings

Cone Flowers, July 2024

                    

                    May you pause and admire beauty wherever it appears.

                    May you see what comes with warming sun and quenching rain.

                    May you be surrounded by vibrant and true companions.

                    May your heart burst with love given and received.     

                    May you discover the loveliness of your own backyard.

Blessing

Hibiscus, July 2024

May every corner of your heart be filled with the brightness of love.

The day begins

Swamp Rose Mallow, July 2024

 

Color your morning

with the softness of rose pink

and the lush of green

The blue dayflowers

Asiatic Dayflower, July 2024

The blue dayflowers

have claimed their place in the sun

and in July's heart

Peace

Swallowtail Caterpillars on Fennel, July 2024

 

Quietly the day

rolls on hour by hour

and I know its peace

Everything you are

Cat's Whiskers, July 2024

 

Welcome the daylight

with everything you have and 

everything you are

A festive parade

Portulaca, July 2024

A festive parade

of July's own abundance

calling out your name

Small Delights

Bracted Fanpetals, July 2024

 

When autumn arrives

will you remember the small

delights of summer?

Undeniable

Curcuma, July 2024

Undeniable 

the beauty of your true self

see what love can do

Letting you know

Giant Swallowtail Caterpillar, July 2024

 

All creatures have ways 

of letting you know when there's 

been a transgression

* I admire the swallowtail caterpillar for her warning system - stay back! She looks fierce and ready for a fight. 

Glorious

Sunset, July 2024
Photo by Riley Anderson 

If you could watch this sunset with anyone, who would it be?

* My son Riley sent this breathtaking photo on his drive from Houston to San Antonio. At the same time I was watching it at the end of our street. I was good to share the sunset with him. 

 

A free gift

Figs, July 2024 

 Figs for the finding

bird, possum, insect, racoon

a gift, a free gift

* One day a lady was walking down the hallway at church. She was holding a tray with small cuttings from her fig tree and offered me one. The mother tree was more than 80 years old and had belonged to her parents in San Antonio. She told me the figs would be as red as strawberries and the best I ever tasted. She was right. Sad to say, these last few got water-logged and split from all the rain, so I'm sharing them with the creatures who visit the backyard. I bet they will be gone by tomorrow morning.