by Patrick Rhone, Master Generalist
This morning’s practice…
Paddled kayak to the middle of the lake. Stopped. Closed my eyes. Felt the breeze. Focused on my breath.
Breathe in the breeze. Breathe out the breeze. Breathe in, accept the breeze. Breath out, return the breeze. Breath in, join the breeze. Breathe out, become the breeze. Breathe in. Breathe out.
I am the breeze. I have always been the breeze. Never separate from the breeze. The breeze is me.
Have you seen a flower?
Truly seen a flower?
If you’ve truly seen a flower
Then you know
That all of time
The entire universe
All of existence
The birth of stars
The spinning of planets
The death of creatures
And all that ever occurred
Was contained in a single seed
That sprouted and bloomed
So that you could see that flower
At that time
In that place
Only you
And, sometime, after that flower dies
It will take you
It will take the whole of the universe
All that was created in it
Along with it
That flower is god
And so are you
when you tell her she’s beautiful
let her know what the word
beautiful means to you
that she’s savvy and strong
that she’s considerate and kind
that she’s gracious and gritty
that she’s honest and wise
when you tell her she’s beautiful
let her know
when you tell her she’s beautiful
let her know what matters
that her heart is pure
that her soul is deep
that her mind is broad
that her words are heard
when you tell her she’s beautiful
let her know
when you tell her she’s beautiful
let her know that you mean more
than the shape of her face
than the toss of her hair
than the sparkle of her eyes
than the flash of her smile
when you tell her she’s beautiful
let her know
when you tell her she’s beautiful
let her know what you mean
that you accept her wholly
that you appreciate her fully
that you see her completely
that you love her absolutely
when you tell her she’s beautiful
let her know
As quickly as it came
this moment passes and
will never happen again
An angel, robed in spotless white,
Bent down and kissed the sleeping Night.
Night woke to blush; the sprite was gone.
Men saw the blush and called it Dawn.
Democracy will not come
Today, this year
Nor ever
Through compromise and fear.
I have as much right
As the other fellow has
To stand
On my two feet
And own the land.
I tire so of hearing people say,
Let things take their course.
Tomorrow is another day.
I do not need my freedom when I’m dead.
I cannot live on tomorrow’s bread.
Freedom
Is a strong seed
Planted
In a great need.
I live here, too.
I want freedom
Just as you.
This is the face of two races.
This is the face of a promise kept.
This is the face of ancestry from a dozen places.
Yet, this is the face of a hope not yet met.
The dream is realized in these faces.
Yet there’s still work to do.
From the mountaintop we still seek distant places.
There are rivers uncrossed and valleys we’re not yet through.
Take a good look from her chin to her brow.
Those eyes, that smile, that skin is the future.
That is the fierce urgency of now.
That is the hope we must nurture.
When MLK wanted children of all races to walk hand in hand.
He had to have known where it would lead.
To a guarantee of true equality across a land.
Filled with faces like these.
by Walt Whitman
When I heard the learn’d astronomer,
When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me,
When I was shown the charts and diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them
When I sitting heard the astronomer where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room,
How soon unaccountable I became tired and sick,
Till rising and gliding out I wander’d off by myself,
In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time,
Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.