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Beach Glass
by Amy Clampitt <~ link

While you walk the water's edge,
turning over concepts
I can't envision, the honking buoy
serves notice that at any time
the wind may change,
the reef-bell clattersits treble monotone, deaf as Cassandra
to any note but warning. The ocean,
cumbered by no business more urgent
than keeping open old accounts
that never balanced,
goes on shuffling its millenniums
of quartz, granite, and basalt.

It behaves,
toward the permutations of novelty--
driftwood and shipwreck, last night's
beer cans, spilt oil, the coughed-up
residue of plastic--with random
impartiality, playing catch or tag
or touch-last like a terrier,
turning the same thing over and over,
over and over. For the ocean, nothing
is beneath consideration.

The houses,
of so many mussels and periwinkles
have been abandoned here, it's hopeless
to know which to salvage. Instead
I keep a lookout for beach glass--
amber of Budweiser, chrysoprase
of Almadén and Gallo, lapis
by way of (no getting around it,
I'm afraid) Phillips'
Milk of Magnesia, with now and then a rare
translucent turquoise or blurred amethyst
of no known origin.

The Process,
goes on forever: they came from sand,
they go back to gravel,
along with treasuries
of Murano, the buttressed
astonishments of Chartres,
which even now are readying
for being turned over and over as gravely
and gradually as an intellect
engaged in the hazardous
redefinition of structures
no one has yet looked at.



:blueheels:

As you sit, each of you in the light of your own heart, with the capacity for mindfulness and awareness, can each of you be a light unto yourself, where you offer yourself dignity, reverence, care, a sense of worthiness - that you're worthy to be seen, appreciated? *One of the last things the Buddha said before he died was, "be a lamp unto yourselves." Turn your light on, adjust the flame so it's not out of control, so it's a calm, steady burn that lights the room up, lights your heart up as clearly as possible. *And then may all the goodness in your heart have time - will you give yourself the time? - to let the goodness in your heart be expressed in the world around you.

- zencast 166, the moon is always full

Nat, this is a wonderful post. The words are powerful and resonate.

I hope others that stop by this thread take the time to read your post.

Thanks for sharing :)

Thank you for reminding Me that there is hope in all things.

(f)

*runs in and opens bottle*

Hugs sylvie because I haven't crossed in a thread with her for ages
Deposits another hug in the bottle
And tosses it back out for the next person that needs a hug

Something that struck me today from the poduniverse -

There are two ways of being religious, both of which are found in every tradition and theological point of view. There is the religion of answers and there is the religion of journey. The religion of answers believes in arriving at some incontrovertible vision of the truth, which it then advocates and defends against all challenge - faith being the measure of the purity and energy of one's adherence to those answers, whatever heritage they may represent. By contrast, the religion of journey considers faith to be a forever unfinished, evolving approach to life's deepest questions. It constantly calls us to wider sympathy and understanding, believing that there is always more for all of us to learn, and that diversity of ideas, stories and ritual vocabularies is an important resource in that process of learning.

-Scott Colglazier

all my words come back to me in shades of mediocrity

it's more than easy at this time of night, alone with one's thoughts and memories, to take out the critical carving knives and slice up one's past actions and words, recent past to ancient past.

unforgiveness is the kind of thing that keeps slicing.

there once lived a person whom I could forgive no matter what. i met him back before I understood the pitfalls of adult love. on the days when I believe in reincarnation, I imagine I was his mother in a past life. Josh, the first person outside my family whom I loved, and I did love him dearly. I still love him dearly. When I'm old, if I make it to "old," I will still love him dearly. He still visits in dreams. He died this last May in a car wreck. Today is his 33rd birthday.

All week I have been so troubled about him. Just really feeling the loss. Every September I think of him. my one greatest failing and the biggest tragedy in my life was that I did not somehow divert him from his trajectory, that as a teen I didn't have the will, the power, the right words or actions to prevent or stop the violence in his life. I have already said most of what I need to say regarding him - here and elsewhere. Happy birthday to Josh, to the 14-15 year old Josh who has never grown up in my heart. In some other reality he could have lived an entirely different life. He could still be breathing. But that's not the way it happened, and it's hard sometimes to accept the unnegotiable reality of death.

He was the only person I was infinitely capable of forgiving. I never gave that to anybody else, least of all myself. and I made the mistake, repeatedly, of holding other lovers and friends accountable for the pain I have carried all my life. And for that, I have mountains of regrets and sad memories. On this imagined shore, I'm tossing bottles far out into the waves. Bottles of contrition, bottles of regret, bottles of forgiveness, bottles of kinder goodbyes, bottles of thanks. To all the people who ever hurt me. To all the people I ever hurt. Especially to the ones who have been on both the giving and receiving ends of hurt when it comes to me.

Thank you for you. you have added more color to My world.

:bunchflowers: