Soft rays breeze silver for waxing green leaves
Red berry hands beauty to stem strangled weeds
Crows hack out the skyline
Slime chewed rooting succumbs to their fate
Wood pigeon soothes hedgerows of dense
Sparrow space
Tall grass bows their seed heads
While nestling docks bring
Damp balm to the woodlouse
And the nettles sharp sting.
Kindness in greeting
So thankful to gather
To find less together
Outside-ness and cold
Friendships received in
Sweet harmonisations
Raptures unwrapping
Both newness and old
Attoning for lost years
Rich music resuming
Creative attunment
In Beacons of Heart.
After years of refurbishment, yesterday saw the re-opening of The Bristol Beacon, a newly beloved centre for live music. It was such a joyful and generous gathering of people, celebrating the vibrancy of this citys creativity, music, togetherness and dance.
And to think only a few years ago those many thousands of people could not, were not, allowed to spend time together in such a way.
Over the rest of Advent, each day, I aim enter and share here a tincture of the grateful Heart.
into the silence
of your still small voice
out from my wilderness
I rejoice
outpouring spaciousness
leaves no choice
but to bathe in the loveliness
of harmony and poise.
spread out before us
this alchemy’s pouring
into anima animus
melting and reforming, yes
each and every one of us
each and every on is love.
What we believe in
we weave into actions
what we’re receiving
we feed on and store
we outwardly mirror
our inward reflections
so shine out your love light
from every pore.
Hazrat Inayat Khan Vol VI p. 205
‘for the person who as attained to the mystery of Sadhana (detachment from worldly things) there is nothing in this world which cannot be attained, all is within his reach, his power, his grasp’
grasping beyond all that is spoken
transforming insides in complete
focussing tight rightly pray to be opened
by boundaries way out of reach.
find nothing and all in acorns so small
where both Beauty and horror is riven
thorns stemming foes as rosebud unfurls
perfumaries for the forgiven.
atmospheres calling unseen and untold
pure waters hydrating dryness of form
seedlings compost in saplings of old
returning to unfurl in soft streams of dawn.
Turning new leaves to:
re route this wait
enlighten fear through
unloosening gates
empty and clearing
without and within
actively resting
and as we refresh and uncling.
Intuit Moon
illume
carbon dark night
swathe silvering kisses
with Transcendent light
deep hush Your reflections
of cloud free Sunshine
replacing repentance
with diamonds Divine.
Intuit Moon, our compassionate sister
implant in us soon the deep ways of your Teacher
let husks turn resplendent and purity grow
while dusk forms new mornings as you soothe our soul.
Oh,
inchoate grasping
distress held less tight
unfurl like raw seedlings
in dappled moon Light
may bathing in Beauty
soften our clay
so tendril gyrations
spring forth Your new day.
I am
currently slowly reading and pondering over some of the wonderful message given to this world by Hazrat Inayat Khan. Upon this continuing nexus of change he soothes by reminding the deep that:
‘It is the greatest relief to forget, it is like bathing in the Ganges.
The present has so many beautiful things to offer us;
if only we open our eyes to look at them
we do not need look for beauty in the past.
Beauty is always here.’
(page 198 of The Sufi Message of Hazrat Inayat Khan, vol V111)
‘
city slowness 