In May our theme was Abundant Love – That which is everywhere yet beyond words. We may hear its echo in our thoughts and conversations. It can be reflected in the words we write or read. Yet even as I write this note, I am struck by how little I know of which I speak. How much there is yet to learn and to experience. And this is GOOD NEWS because the Abundant Invitation to keep learning and healing and moving forward is always there.
In our May collection, each writer accepts this invitation and writes from such a unique perspective. The diversity is stunning. The stories are unique and universal all at the same time. See for yourself. For sharing their writings, a heartfelt thanks goes to: Nancy Burgas, Marge Dukes, Sue Edmondson, Susan Maitner and Rosalind Seneca.
Wishing everyone a blessed, replenishing and abundant summer experience.
JMR, by Nancy Burgas, May 27, 2015
Out among the stars
his spirit soars
watching in awe
the birth of planets
scanning the universe
and at long last finding
Now we must seek
the same peace
Kfar Haruv Peace Vista Lodge, by Margaret A. Dukes, May 5, 2015
In the kibbutz
at Golan Heights
cabins align along the cliff
above the sea.
We sit in plastic chairs
on the lawn.
Doves coo almost
across the sea, the town of Tiberias
lights appear as thousands of gems
scattered from a jewel box.
We celebrate our circle
friendship, travel, wine
-our guide on her guitar
strums "shalom, shalom"
she opens our souls
to a sea of abundant love.
In My Language, by Sue Edmondson, June 2015
Hate is not in my language.
LOVE IS WHAT I HAVE IN MY LANGUAGE.
War is not in my language.
PEACE IS WHAT I HAVE IN MY LANGUAGE.
Violence is not in my language.
JOY IS WHAT I HAVE IN MY LANGUAGE.
LOVE, PEACE AND JOY ARE WHAT I HAVE IN MY HEART AND SOUL
FOR ALL LIVING THINGS HERE ON OUR PLANET.
POINT VIERGE, by Susan Abbott Maitner, May 9, 2015
“The gate of heaven is everywhere." ~ Thomas Merton
Silence standing at the doorway
Beyond the house
Cradling quiet, birthing dawn
Paired crows darting
Chasing, racing, raucous shout
Soul amazed to glimpse the sight:
The leafing out of old oaks
The daybreak of a new Spring
For Amy, by Susan Abbott Maitner, May 2015
On the day after unborn Brigit Mary died…
The day after the little white cat passed
Wild chives and dandelions
And blossoms from a Bradford pear console
“I will get you a dog,” young Matthew tells me
Before showing me the garter snake his father caught
“I will help”
The children are outside painting rocks
Their father is loving
Their mother gentle and brave
I remember old Elizabeth
And Mary racing through the hill country
A babe leaping in the womb
Blessed is she who trusts
The word of God will be fulfilled.
Stepping Back from the Brink, By Lorri Lizza, May 9, 2015
"One has to be very brave in life to keep living the truth." ~ Rosalind Seneca
The NY Rangers played last night
Against the Washington Capitols
ON THE BRINK OF ELIMINATION!!
Screamed yesterday’s headlines
WIN or GO HOME!!!
ESPN radio gurus prophesied
THEY HAVE TO SCORE . . .YOU GOTTA BELIEVE!!!
Mantras on steroids filled the airwaves
I DO believe! I do . . .
Friday night I get home in time to watch the third period.
And then the Caps score
In the last 9 minutes.
The last 9 minutes!
An eternity when you are defending a lead
But a blink-of-an eye when you are facing Defeat
I close my eyes unable to watch.
The desperation I feel makes me rise up
And go to the kitchen to empty the dishwasher.
I realize halfway through clearing the top rack that this will be what I chose to do as my team lost their chance for the Stanley Cup.
So I stop and return to watch.
Now with under two minutes left in regulation time
I come and sit again.
This time eyes open
This time finally admitting
To myself and the Holy Spirit, the Abundant Love that is,
I no longer believe.
I do not believe.
It is the truth.
Seconds later we score.
And with under 2 minutes left in regulation time
We tie the game.
And in overtime
We score again.
The game is ours.
We will play another day.
Stepping back from the brink of elimination
I am left wondering about the timing of that game-tying goal.
Could it only be a matter of me admitting the truth
Of being honest about not believing
For the veil to open
And the puck to find the back of the net?
It couldn't be.
Or could it?