Winds of spring have comeFlowers frolic in the fieldsJoy grows from within
Spring blooms bright outsideCycles of Life come and goRise live fully now _______________________________ A Leaf EncounterResting in the dirty snowA glow of sudden brilliance.A fallen leaf in mid-winterRobed in its bright hues,Orange and red flames of fall.
How beautiful it could beSleeping on a bed of white snow.Kneeling with outstretched hand This supple gem passed to a new site,A bright leaf exquisite on sparkling snow.
A photographer’s vision of uniqueness Followed the leaf to its new site.Different angles of light played on its surfaceAnd as the photographer hesitated,A winter breeze freed the fallen leaf.
Adorned in her bright colors of fallThe leaf danced with the wind on their path.A momentary encounter not imagined,A glimpse of unexpected beauty,That would not be captured. _____________________________________________________ It Doesn't By Phyllis Reed (02.28.2021) It doesn't take much snow to brighten a winter bank. It doesn't take much wind to move a blade of grass. It doesn't take much ice to make a wet bridge slick. It doesn't take much sunshine to make a diamond on a puddle. It doesn't take much cloudcover to make a shadow on a path. But the world is changed. How much compassion does it take to lift another's spirit? How much kindness does it take to lighten another's day? How much abuse does it take to destroy a child's trust? How much vulnerability does it take to hide a sorrow? How much energy does it take to share beauty with a friend? How much is the world changed? It doesn't take much effort for the world to change. It changes all the time. And, It takes only a moment to notice. How much time does it take to create a Life of compassion? It takes only this moment, and this moment, and this one. How much is the world changed?
Listen closely the river speaks.Sometimes it’s ragingSometimes just a whisper.The deeper it runsThe clearer is its voice.
And what of humansAre our voices similar?The river becomes our metaphor.Lean in close and listenTo ancient wisdom’s call.
Crashing on the surface rocksEmotions create rage.Stones of Life seem hard and sharp.As we resist their crossingWe choose to suffer long.
The river runs on toward the deepIts flow becomes its whisper.It has no need to suffer long.Our rocks are just the call of painThey have not come to stay.
The river creates continuous flowIt will not stand in rage.Our hearts can choose the very same.Emotions splash and often speakListen, let them pass.
The quiet of the moving riverNow resting in our deep.The mind reflects our troubled times.Emotions announce our pain.Wisdom flows in whispers.