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The Lotus Shrine



the divine in me honours

the divine in you

I am very fond of this greeting. So simple to execute by bringing the palms of the hands together at the heart, sometimes touching the forehead first. So profound in its meaning. So far-reaching in its effect. So empowering in its intent.

This occasional sharing of some of my daily prayer, whether in the form of a reflection, a meditation, a blessing, or an invocation is offered here at The Lotus Shrine.

It is my intention that all who come to the Shrine experience its beauty, its joy, its love, its wisdom and tranquillity even as they experience their own. Perhaps you may wish to make an offering too at the Shrine.

Blessings to all lovebeings.


I surrender to love

10 Mar 07

This morning, I woke up to the sound of a bird, a rather distinct sound that I had not heard before.  Caught between a still slumbering mind and a scheduled alertness that presents itself around this time of day, I found myself mentally groping for something familiar to hang my consciousness on.  I was not gratified. Instead, my consciousness was snared by the repeated birdcall. 

What was it?  I wondered, feeling that there was nothing else I could apply my mind to until this question was answered. I wasn’t curious, at least not in an agreeable sort of way.  I was just engaging in an instinctive need to know. 

Another call and then it stopped.  My mind was released from its grasp.  I started to move my left wrist toward my face hoping to check the time and hoping it was not past six yet.  Halfway along its journey, I remembered I had taken my watch off my wrist and left it on the computer desk.  I decided I would not panic and so turned my attention to my cat, Basil. Was he there?  Yes, curled up at the foot of my bed, watching me, knowing that we would soon part company.  Somehow, seeing Basil there reassured me that I could not be late, not hugely at any rate.

I peeled the sheets off me and swung my legs over the edge of the bed, allowing, as I did, my daily intentions to arise from somewhere below my solar plexus:

I place myself in the field of pure consciousness, of god-consciousness, of love.  I remain in it every moment of my day.  I shall not be persuaded from it.  I surrender to love.  I am guided by it and in it. 

I am grateful for libraries and books...Books, books, books. I am grateful for words and the images they evoke and the images they destroy. I am grateful for human thoughts that keep us busy. I am grateful for silences that fill our senses to the point of bursting. And then comes the sorrow or the ecstasy. Then comes the hope and the despair. Then comes my mind to take me home and in body we return to the place of forever. Let me go. Quietly, lest I disturb my tranquil mind.

Lying quietly
Waiting for the universe to hold her breath
Just long enough for me to dissolve
Into the death of sleep

I am gone and I know not where I've been
And when I return, I awaken to an old joy
Caught somewhere between my imaginings and yours
Freed at last from the names we have given it

My Self, your questions leave whyprints on my mind
And whatprints and howprints
I retrace each one
Recovering each with a tenderness that my soul has always known
And place them in the crucible of enlightenment

May they be burnt as holy offering
To awaken the sleeping


Safety is not my Spirit’s nature

Where is god? Everywhere. Where am I? Everywhere, though not as consciously, as aware. Tune into full awareness. Return to omniscience - our natural state. But in the meantime, keep returning.

I sit at the table, looking out into the garden. The morning sunlight splashes itself over the vegetation, interrupted by the very same. The colours - gold against dark green, against nearly black. Shadow is not the absence of light, just its obscuration. I see the plum-pink trumpets -an import from Brazilian forests, I have been told. I see green leaves and small, yellow flowers. Singapore daisy I have been told. I see a wild garden. And I see a need for work in the garden. And I think that the mind can appear to be lazy by regenerating old images rather than fresh ones. All it needs is the suggestion, the first hint of an image, and it instantly retrieves a whole one from its memory, a whole, OLD one from its memory, similar but not the same. And so, I don't see a fresh garden, I don't see a new trumpet that is changing this very moment. I don't see the new cover of Singapore daisy, I see the old. wild weed that is choking my other plants. I don't see fresh sunlight. I see old colour, old shadows. But god's eyes see the ever-changing everything, even as god's eyes change.

No, I realize, the mind is not lazy. But it does offer old images for new ones. It does offer familiarity as a safety-house. And safety keeps me within its pre-defined boundaries, which, like the Singapore daisy, I have long out-grown. But, like, it, someone or something keeps cutting me back, keeps holding me in check.

Ah mind, you confuse the familiar with the safe, not realizing that safety is not my spirit's nature, for it has nothing to keep safe from. Free is. I am learning about the tyranny of duality, of antonyms. I am learning to replace one concept with an alternative concept. Alternative, not necessarily opposite. And I notice that life gets richer.


So what has changed?

I found something today. Something from the past. But in many ways, it felt very present. Two exercise books of poetry that I had written about thirty years ago. Themes and styles that have not aged as I have. Then again, have I? Grown, yes. Expanded, yes. Aged? What does that mean, really? To have accrued the years and not the wisdom perhaps? No. I am quite certain that wisdom has travelled with me. Not an old wisdom, nor a young one. A timeless one. She has waited for me. She has always been with me.

But my find. Oh how sublime. How sacred. To touch these pages that bear my handwriting from all those years ago. To read the script of a self-conscious, introspective, intemse teenager, who felt she needed to be older than she was. Who felt older than she was. Who even then knew god in common ways:

"...and then Lord you came.
In the cautious, cooling air that moved...
that blew my hair off my forehead
and made my shirt flip back and forth upon my back...
that moved right thru' my body
as if cleaning the moisture off my lungs...

then you came...drop by drop...at first...crescendo-ing to a
pelting storm of raindrops all over
my upraised face...

I feared I could not contain Your vastness
and I ran in from You
only to realize that I'd stood
in the Rain!!

So, here I am going through these long-ago thoughts, emotions, experiences. Only they don't feel long-ago at all:

When...and Why
When your skin feels tight
and your hair stand on end

When the birds fly silently, leisurely
beneath a dusky, grey sky

When the leaves hardly twitch
And the chilliness sweeps thru' your nose

When the little yellow flowers atop the Father tree
look more dead than alive, more ready to fall than to stick it out

When the street looks grey
with a stillness that's Cold

and a drunk staggers aimlessly - thank You, there are no cars!

When its time for the sun to subside
and the street lamps to take over

And there's hardly a movement, just
the ups and downs of your chest
and the hssssshh of expiration

When your eyes look up to the sky
thru' the canopy of branches and leaves

and your mind deciphers a prayer
hidden in your heart

When you wish to think of nothing but
the Art
portrayed in that streak of white cloud
across the darkening sky
as the black birds glide by
as your tired lips release a sigh
as your heart surpresses a cry
as you stop to wonder why
I was brought on this earth to die?

So what has changed? Continents apart, the soul sings its only song.

My friend. Is she not a gift to me? Calling me to check on me, to let me know that she loves me. To let me know that she has been praying for my mum and for all the other people that I have asked her to pray for. She comes over and we chat over a cup of chai, among the sounds and smells and icons and pictures and things that make up this place called home. And we talk at about our children and out parents and our brothers and sisters and about love. How the power of love has penetrated our lives in the most magical and unexpected ways. And then we offer each other healing.

I lay on the table first and feel the warmth of her hands over my face, suffused with the disarming fragrance of frankincense mixed in with almond oil. I am allowing myself to surrender, anticipating the quiet rapture of the soul returned to its dwelling place - love's stillness. Circles of white light, cobalt blue and white geometry, silent voices offer me messages of joy and assurance.

And deeper I drift into this spacious, timelessness, my thoughts in slow motion, passing through. Till finally, sleeps carries this willing child in her arms, briefly, only ro awaken once again to the mundane world. We talk in half-whispers, exchanging our experience. And then it is her turn to lie on the table.

I place some of my instruments of healing over her face. They, like hers before, have been lined with frankincense and almond oil. And so it is, my friend and I, drawn to the sacred act of healing. And when she finally departs. we both feel blessed by the gifts of friendship and reiki.

We are each an instrument of healing. The healing of one is the healing of the whole. In the presence of love, may be all remain and thus be healed.

They built a learning place in the heart of the forest. It grew from a college to a university. I spent several years there and then left for another type of world. Much had happened to me in that time. Then, in a delightful chain of events, I returned to it. And so, there I was, washing my mug in the common room. There was always something special about this school. They had always believed in being communal, in spending time together outside lectures and meetings. A feeling of fondness crept through me, glided over me. I realized then I had been in love with this place for a long time. And now I was in love with the feeling of being in love. I stepped back mentally. The first sense - of being in love - now that was what I wanted to leave this moment with. And so I did. But...did that moment ever leave me? I am in love.


The way, the truth and the life

Are you waiting to die Mum? She nods her head a little sheepishly, as if to say, well, yes, isn't that what I am supposed to do? Do you think god wants you to do that? To wait for your death? She sits up. Her back straightens. There is a new light in her eye, where there was one fading before. She breaks into a smile, almost afraid of it. She is finding it hard to say yes when she feels no. I say it for her. No, mum. God does not want you to wait for your death. Don't you think god wants you to live a full life? Yes, she says quite confidently. Well mum, you are not going to live a full life by waiting for your death. When the time comes, you will be ready and you will answer god's calling you home with joy and excitement. But until then, you must live fully.

You have completed all your worldly responsibilities to all your children. You have worked so hard and have done whatever you could. Now you are called to bear witness to the wonders of god's love and healing. You are called to share your faith and offer your blessings and healing in god's name. We are each one of us called to bless, to heal.

Christ asked all his friends to spread the news, to bless and to heal. Each one. Not some. No leaders and followers; rather each a leader in their own way, with their particular gifts. Christ came to show us the way. And what was that? I am the way, the truth, the life. Just like Christ, I too am the way, the truth and the life. Let me awaken to this truth, and in thus awakening, let me be liberated, resurrected into my ultimate self, my unconditioned, free and godly self. Become the way, the truth, the life mum, and let death wait for you.

In god's loving embrace, I place her; this beautiful, gentle, eager soul that is created out of love itself. May you, dear mum. sleep peacefully tonight. May you open yourself to god's healing power, so that in the morning, rested and renewed with hope and faith, you live in joyful praise of god's wonders. May you be blessed by all who live in the love of god, and bless and heal, in turn, all who seek god's holy place.


In the space called ‘we’

 There is an uneasiness, a certain sense of things not being as open and free as they could be. There is a sense that we must keep a distance, for there is only so much tolerance left in the jar. There is a sense that when I am here, she remains there and when I am there she finds her way here. There is a sense that I may have ‘upstaged’ her and that has not gone down well. There is a sense that she is uncomfortable with how I am and has been for some time. There is a sense that she feels ‘less’ because I seem ‘more’.

But where is this sense? Oh surely in my heart and mind, and throughout my body and somewhere in the space called ‘we’.

I share the joy of my being, the magic it holds, the mystery it draws me into, the hope it spills over me, the freshness of thought it inspires in me. I share with one who has been here much longer than me in this life. She listens with great attention, never wanting to miss so much as a pause or a sigh, for all are precious to her. She thinks hard, never assuming anything, never afraid to question. She checks my answers against her beliefs, frowning, screwing up her face, taking her time. And always graceful. And always full of grace.

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you. Blessed are you among women and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus.

Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for our transformation, now and till our enlightenment, Amen.

I am blessed. Like the leaf that is blessed by the sunshine, the dewdrops, the rain, the moonlight, the wind, the sand, the salt, the acid, I am blessed.

I am discovering. The tiny piles of guilt, so long ago hidden away in the attic of my mind. The more mind has been cleared, the better I see them. I smile softly inside. Life is rich and free and I am life.

I am open. As I prepare to join the rest, my heart's door is thrown wide open. Happy, loving, reaching out, holding, returning. Then preparing to wander further afar. Further into love.

I am lost. In the embrace of another. Wondering where it will take me. No. I am not lost. I simply sense that I could go where I have never been. And do I want to? And do I dare to?

I am love. Lovebeing. Here there is no fear.

I heard her voice. She had come back from the dead. Stronger, surer. She came back with blessings for all. I arise each day with blessings for all. I have heard the trees murmur their blessings. I have heard the winds roar their blessings. I have heard the breeze whisper their blessings. I have heard the stream gurgle its blessings. I have seen the clouds shine their blessings. I have felt the rocks breathe their blessings. I receive blessings from all. Soon I shall go to her, mother of all blessings. Soon I shall sit in her presence and she in mine. We shall travel our timeless journey with our touch and our gaze and our embrace. We shall hear music that played in a moment of eternity. We shall dance the soul's romance.
We shall sing with the choir of cicadas and the trumpet of the rhinoceros and the cymbals of the baboon. We shall spin magic out of the violets' nodding and bow in adoration before the setting sun. Together, we live the grand life - the a-live.

To see freshly the thumb that holds the tissue. To feel the soft cotton on my skin. To hear the trickling water and the hum of distant traffic. To feel my fingernails move across my skin. To feel the saliva flow out from its glands. To hear a buzz of voices in a distant room, many miles away, countries away. To see through the eyes of an old mother, her children gathered before her. To feel her fragile heart beat ever stronger. To smile her smile, at once shy, yet filled with delight. To wonder how this is all possible. To feel a sudden current of joy in the peace river that is flowing through her. To flashback to a distant village, an ancient lifetime, a moment of recognition - of no belonging. To hear a choir of angels preparing to welcome home a traveller. Am I not present in each and so much more? Am I not the love whose mist touches ever so gently, the lovebeings in all the universe? Whose gossamer threads weaves through each? Whose light radiates from each? Oh mother, beginingless and endless, I am one with you.

I saw a rainbow and with it my heart smiled. I saw another rainbow just above it, and with it, I soared. Both blessed me. Right in front of my front door. My light spreads widely across the world. A gentle presence. Assured and assuring. I lift my gaze to the sky and see its lovebows. And see its skyscape rich with swirls and globs of white clouds across a pulsing screen of blue. And I am reminded that the divine reveals itself in all.

In the company of angels and holiness, I am blessed as I once again re-commit myself to my loveworks. I intend a pure intention and allow myself to expand into the loveworks that are self-creating, using me as their instrument. There is nothing more freeing than surrendering. Nothing to hold on to, nothing to protect or defend, to gain or lose, for in this infinite space of self, I am and have all. In celebration, the angels and holy beings bless me and commend me to my lifeworks. I am renewed and refreshed. And together our lovespace embraces all in need of healing. And all are blessed.

Oh stand in the doorway of time. Stand there and look. See time appear as past, present and future. Do you dare shut the door? If you do, you shut time in and you find yourself in eternity, timelessness, where past, present and future co-exist. All possibilities show themselves. Choose one. And when you are sure that you have chosen what your soul truly wants, then open the door once again.

Sadness. Of loss. Or rather, the fear of loss. A hint of regret. Did I give away what I could have had? And what was that? Intimacy. Mind, body and spirit. It’s alright. We cannot lose what was never ours to begin with. But we seek the promise of joy, of fulfilment, of togetherness. And my mind wanders away from the here and now. To what I think I do not have. And all that I could have is here and now and I am not here. I am not now. Return. Return. Oh sweet heart. Return to the wholeness of yourself. Return to the bliss of your lovebeing. So spacious. So expansive. So full of life and so free of desire. So rich in joy and so free of craving. What did I think I had lost? Intimacy. What did I lose? My state of love being. What have I found? Intimacy free of attachment. No sadness now. Acceptance. Gentle joy.

I sit in the presence of Shiva - destroyer of all illusions. With ease, I fall into love's infinite playing field. Strawberries leap in the air. The angels keep watch over the children as the men on horseback ride into the mist. A spiral of air held by the scent of magnolia rises from the ground of muted, rippling rainbow light. An eagle soars into an ancient galaxy and drinks from the stream that I have always been. The moon throws its shadow here and there, teasingly. The universe gyrates within the swirls of the tabla. I offer my morning prayer. Dissolved once more in all, I am the pulsing universe. I am its pulse. Its heartbeat of love. Its lovebeat.

My sister told me her sad news today. She was grieving for another. My heart listened and continued to love her. Then it whispered: I do not know exactly what it is like for you to be where you are, but I do know that it is very painful. Her smile thanked me for being with her in her place of pain.

S called me this afternoon. He had much to say about his journey in recent weeks and especially in recent days. He said: A and B have told me that I'm heading for a nervous breakdown and that I should speak to you. He talked a bit and cried a bit. My heart listened and continued to love him. Then it whispered: You are by nature, love, peace and joy. Nothing and no one can change that for you. Neither can you yourself. All that can happen is that your experiences which condition you will distance you, block you from this truth. Yet, when you hold the sincere intention that you be restored to your natural great peace, love and joy, it shall be so. Practice reminding yourself of this intention. Practice intending. His calm voice told me he was in a state of peace.

B sent me her reflection sheet. She told me why she was so unhappy and what she wanted most. She told me her secrets. My heart listened and continued to love her. I shall meet with her tomorrow and we shall talk in silence, for much insight is gained in that wild and blissful forest of silence.

I bring the intentions of each of my fellow travellers to the Lotus Shrine. May its healing petals lead us into the bliss of enlightenment, free from suffering, yet always open to the suffering of others.

May all lovebeings in the universe bless our travels.

I enter into my place of peace. My place of awareness. Internal and external events. I take note with a sense of curiosity. Seeking to remain equally unattached, equal curious about each event. Events of the past - memories stream through. Sensations meet with my attention. Thoughts come and go. Emotions peer at me. What a cauldron of events. Let me maintain this equanimity.

A storm appeared at my front door this morning. I blew it away. It left me a little ruffled on the feathers. Only a little, for there was an unshakeable tree of enlightenment within me that reassured me of my action. It was necessary for me to keep out that which was incapable of honouring my right to peace. I bore no ill feelings toward the storm. I began to wish, yet again, for it to find its peace. Whenever my mind wandered away from my tree of enlightenment, threatening me with fears of repercussion, my tree spoke reassuringly:

Loving action sometimes means defending my right to peace, to civil conversation. Loving action sometimes means letting someone know that their stormy behaviour will no longer be tolerated. Loving action always means finding the thread of peace in the eye of the storm and following it to the common ground of love. Loving action always means not giving in to fear.

My prayer of peace transcends all barriers and boundaries. Namaste.

"After a long and happy life, Jean R died peacefully on Friday. Could you please pray for Jean to continue her good life and move on.”

What does it mean for Jean to have 'died'? Does it mean that all who knew Jean cease to experience her in the way they had and that Jean ceases to experience them in the way she had?

Death is transformation, transformation that is hard to ignore and even harder to observe. Don't living and dying take place simultaneously? To live is to grow. To grow is to transform. To transform is to die. Something has to transform, to die, for something to live.

I am a living being. I am a dying being. I am a transforming being. I am a lovebeing. When Jean 'dies', all of life 'dies'; all of life transforms. The entire cosmos transforms and therein is its constancy. For every moment is a moment of transformation, whether I know it or not, whether I feel it or not.

And every so seldom, I get a glimpse of the perpetually transforming constancy - Brahma Breathing.

I am struck by the enormity of the responsibility I am about to undertake. I discover a heaviness in my chest. I think that I could settle for a simpler life, a simpler story. Do I really want to take this on? And then I discover, sitting underneath these thoughts, a firm reassurance: If anything feels like a struggle, you know its not what you should be doing. Love and wisdom ensure that when we are truly aligned with our purpose, there is no struggle. Instead, enthusiasm, focus, ease, joy, love.

I sit in the midst of sounds. Musical sounds that soften the subtle tensions in my body. I am dissolving. I am the tabla and the drumming. I am the drone and the droning. I am the xylophone and the toning. I am the chant and the chanting. Indeed, I am beginingless and endless. The word is a cognitive space in which I meet another. So is each sound. Each breath. In each breath, I dissolve into the ONE, the whole. No more distance between us. No more you. No more me. What remains? Sheer is-ness. Suchness. Smiling god.

I notice that as patience leaves me, anger moves to settle in. Why does patience leave? There is an underlying sense that I could be doing something else instead of just sitting and waiting. There is also a sense that if I were to go and do something else, I would lose the energy, the concentration, the train of thought that I had with the original task. I am afraid of losing what I had. And the fear of losing what I had makes me feel angry. And the anger makes me look for someone or something to blame. And I realize that getting angry and looking for something/one to blame does not help me understand my fear. It blinds me to it and it shifts my focus. Until the next time I am impatient.

Love is presence. Love is un-seeking attention. Love does not attach itself to anything, for it is already present in all. Love has no need to own, to claim as mine for I am in all and all is in me.

Water trickling. Fan blades whirring air toward me. I allow my attention to drift to my palm tree, to my fish, to the hot summer air and the blinding glare of Grandfather Sun and sense myself in all. Life holds me by the fine threads of love. Gossamer. Threads that distribute me in so many people and places and things. Equally. I breathe deeply and enjoy this togetherness. Only this body is limited by time and space. Not this mind. I stand in the sheer spray of a lovedrop's explosion. It covers me, dissolving me, until love and I are one.

I have not had internet access for over two weeks. To the two people who have posted messages to me, I hope you will understand why I have not responded :-). I thank you for your love offerings at the Shrine :-)

Whereas I was unable to log my reflections, meditations online, I was able to direct my energy into other things. Among them was a visit to one of my favourite places - a Buddhist monastery in the hinterland. As I sat down in the gompa (prayer room) in anticipation of the public talk by the resident geshe, I felt moved to tears. It was as if I had come home. I wondered then, if there was an aspect of me that was held in the space of a nun. I am sure that that aspect still remains. In a world of infinite possibilities, that possibility already exists and has already materialized. I am sure of it.

I also shared precious moments with my daughter and my son. With the former, I served as assistant chef in preparing a dinner she designed, cooked and served to select guests. They were asked to dress up for the occasion and like the great sports that they are, they did. What a treat for all of us. And this, by a young girl who has just finished school and is trying so hard to 'finish' an altogether distressing relationship with a young man of the same age.

As for my son, well, when a young teenager, caught up in the raucous rampage of adolescence is able to tell me in the middle of a meal: Mum, that picture of the flower is very nice, I have no response better than a humble, grateful and joyous 'Yes'. For he has reconnected with his own beauty. He has heard beauty speak. He has been touched by the feather of god's breath. And he has shared its presence with me.

And what more is there to say than 'yes'? How is one able to add to love's comment, other than to affirm it? How is one able to answer anything but 'yes' when god speaks?

I woke up this morning and discovered a new member of the family. I had brought him home last night and had left him in the lounge. It was too late to decide where his more permanent place would be in the house.

I thought he looked a little startled when I first appeared. But I quite soon realized it was me who was surprised for I had forgotten about him through the night. My surprise quickly turned into a smile as I once more welcomed him to our home.

There he stands, enjoying the sunlight that finds its way into my home through every little window blind. He’s tall. The tallest in my family. I hope he enjoys living with us. I know that everyone else who walks through this house will. And I thank my sister, Jo, for giving him to me.

I’ll ask his name and tell him mine, though I suspect he already knows it. We shall care for each other and learn about all the ways in which we are the same, this palm tree and this human being. We are, for one thing, both love beings :-)

She stepped out of her car, head bent, mind turned inward. She found her heart-space and said: May I walk in love this moment and every moment of today. May I be a love-field for all that enter and leave my physical energy field. In this way, may they reconnect with their love-field.

She felt a gentle current flow through her entire mind-body. Her footsteps were lighter, her face expanded into a smile. The smile took her to different stalls, different people, different conversations, different moods. But one thing remained the same: She remained a lovebeing.

Here I gather up all the different strands of experiences that I had over the last 24 hours. To say thank you. And then to let them flow. Forever. In the stream of consciousness. And thus new space is created for fresh experiences. Like my palm against the keyboard, and the heat upon my back. And the texture of synthetic fabric on my shoulders, over my arms and upon the sides of my chest.

I find myself wanting to retrieve some strands, now called memories. I find myself wanting to to check them over. See what I may have missed, or what new insight may have been ensconced there. And then I realize that the gem waiting for my discovery is the lesson of letting go. Letting every memory go, and remaining to the one now being created :-)


This space called me

This space called me is forever growing. Or perhaps I am just learning to see more of it. This space called me is forever changing. Or perhaps I am just learning to be more attentive. This space called me is filled with my imprints and those of all other, imprints that have not known time.

Here I share some imprints, these experiences that emerge like waves of clouds, and clouds of thoughts and emotions. Moving in and out of each other, rising and falling. Soft foams of violet, grey, white and coal.

My heart lies on god’s infinite cushion of love. Watching. Complete and open. Completely open. What is life if not myself, distributed in every other? What is joy if not my smile, reflected in every other? What is love if not my heart, beating in every other? What is me, if not you? You, if not me?

The divine in me honours and smiles at the divine in you. Namaste.

Withdrawing senses from the outer world, I turn them on inside. The leftovers of last night's blend of meal and sacred smoke remind me that there is a past. We'd burnt the sage, my friend and I, to bless ourselves and bless this dwelling, while watching over us, blessing us with light aeterna, was Grandmother Moon. Full.

Our drum beat the heart beat, soft and steady. Notes from ancient memories drifted out of my tin whistle as rhythms of native streams. We said our prayer for all beings. Lovebeings - plant, animal, human, element. The leaves of the trees rustled louder as they joined in, even as the breeze remained steady.

We made our fire and sat in silence, moonlight drenching us, fire warming us, and the breeze kissed us again and again. Wide awake though we were, Grandmother lulled us into the sleep of transparent dreams in which her stories are suspended. And when we awoke, it seemed like we had never slept. Under the aeternal light, my friend drove home. Under the aeternal light I went to bed.

So this morning new, is morning filled with aeternal light, aeternal grace, aeternal joy. This morning new, is rich with forever love, forever wisdom. This morning new is filled with me and filled with every being. And now, I fill this morning new with renewed dedication to all my works in love. I fill this morning new with the intention that each moment be a moment lived in love. And then I offer this morning new to all beings.





You take form in me

Five minutes

It sings of itself, it sings of me

I surrender to love

Looking in the direction of what I want

Let me go

My Self

Safety is not my Spirit’s nature

So what has changed?

Instrument of healing

In love

The way, the truth and the life

Bless and heal

In the space called we

Full of grace

And do I dare?

The grand life

Oh Mother!


I am an instrument

The doorway of time

The illusion of loss

I am

My heart listened


A storm

Breathing Brahma


Smiling god


A lovedrop’s explosion

In the space between then and now

Rising family

One thing remained the same

This space called me

The morning new









Wild on Wonders!


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©Lucy Lopez All Rights Reserved    Thanks to www.pdphoto.org for lotus image