Sunday Morning
My companions as dawn breaks this Sunday morning are the birds serenading me and the rabbit breaking his fast on the clover scattered across my yard.
The Stardust Journal Press
We are made of stardust. The carbon in my body and the iron in my blood were forged in stars that burned out before the Earth had a
Begin readingThe River · Most Recent
Ode to Peace
They told me you were stillness: the lake with no wind, the held breath, the shut door, the white and waiting room where nothing is allowed
The Tree
I carry my coffee to our backyard deck Still dressed for sleep There is a welcomed chill in the air The heat conspiring with humidity The
Whisper My Name
Just one more embrace one more caress. To hear you sigh, to see your lips form an oh, and then to hear you whisper my name
Seekers and the Path
What made us seekers? What poked and prodded us from our comfort to step onto the path and begin this journey? Was it of earthquake proportion,
Trying
The sky is still this morning, white, grey clouds with an icing of pink are fixed in place as if they had been hung in the
Echo's Wisdom
In some ways I have never been better. I am comfortable in my own skin, though the bones and muscles beneath it increasingly demand attention. I
Stardust to Starlight
If life were just a story, I would write a happy ending. Yes, the hero and heroine would be soot-marked, their clothes in tatters, but
It's Amazing, Isn't It?
Stop and think about it, just for a minute, yes this minute, Exhale first, then fill your lungs with air, then take another breath. It'
Our Sangha and the Blue Moon
The transformation begins with a chuckle as Cindy explains the subject of the day's sit. Discomfort in a cardigan at the edge of boredom
Shaped by Myths, Masters, and Mystics
We live in a world shaped by stories told, retold and retold again. By the time they reach our ears they bear little familiarity with their