Walking With the Soul

 

Seeing the shadow of a rose petal makes me think that life might be a little more tender than I realize.  I am two months away from retiring from ministry. I am grateful for the message that the time has come to learn to walk in a new way. 

Inside the Rose (2)    

Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks

    

But there are those in bodies

who are pure soul. It can happen.  

   

These messengers invite us to walk with them.  

They say, You may feel happy enough where you are, 

but we cannot do without you any longer. Please.      

  

So we  walk along the rose,

being pulled like the creeks and rivers are 

out from the town onto the plain.  

   

My guide, my soul, your only sadness

is when I am not walking with you.   

   

In deep silence, and with some exertion

to stay in your company

I could save you a lot of trouble. 

    

   

    

image: San Leandro, November 2024   

     

Love Letter

 Overall, I am feeling optimistic. Now, that feeling does come and go, but I am getting better at reading the tide. At the moment, I know only this morning's beautiful light. A few nights ago, the crescent waning phase of the moon was stunning. I love that moon phase because when the sky is clear, the outline of the full moon to come can be seen. Yes, it is subtle. All the better. Then two nights ago, it rained. Not a lot, but it was indeed rain, and not, as I initially thought, a creature rummaging around. It really has been a long dry summer.    

 The image that is attached was taken from the dining room window at Villa Maria del Mar in Santa Cruz. The sun was setting. As I have mentioned, the ocean was very much alive last week. Anchovies were in, and they were feeding whales, and all sorts of sea and shore birds. I was particularly delighted that pelicans were able to feast. I understand that is not always the case. I knew little else but awe and gratitude. I do think they often go hand in hand, like the lovers that they are. 

  

Speaking of love, I love this poem. So I share it with all of you.  

    

He Is a Letter  

 

Someone who goes with half a loaf of bread

to a small place that fits like a nest around him,

someone who wants no more, 

who is not himself longed for

by anyone else. 

   

He is a letter to everyone. You open it.

It says, Live.    

 

Rumi   

   

Yes, I am trying to keep things simple these days, although I did have some moments of discomfort when I could not find my book, A Year with Rumi, by Coleman Barks. However, in the process of searching, I put two books in the giveaway box. As a friend of mine says, "It's all good."