May the bright breeze of morning rouse your heart to singing,
May the fire of the noonday warm your heart to hopefulness,
May the cooling rains of evening wash your heart to freshness,
May the enclosing arms of the earth hold you through the midnight.
Walk in paths of the winds that awaken,
Walk through the fires that burn off the scars,
Walk in the waters that cool and renew,
Stand with your feet firmly planted on earth
Until you hear the voice of the wind,
Until you breathe the essence of the fire,
Until you smell the message of the waters,
Until you feel the heartbeat of the earth,
Until you see the sun rise
Prompt for Monday:
Write a poem about a secret or a lie. I might tell a lie about myself, or make up a secret, or tell a REAL secret, perhaps. But you’ll never know, really, what the truth is, eh? Care to join me?
1. A gripping historical account of the assassination of President Lincoln told by my 12-year-old nephew. And the way my brother explains the patterns of ancient human history.
2. The brightness of the half-moon, and the stars, tonight.
3. Reading Mara’s poetry–awash in the language, in the imagery, in the mystery.
4. A cloud above the Susquehanna, shaped like an eagle with a fish in its talons.
May we walk in Beauty!