Quiet Place
Contributed by Nicholas Begich Sr.
I am in this utterly quiet place,
As I gaze out my bedroom window,
A small moose appears, mother not far away,
Hidden in the bush in the morning sun.
A rustle of the bush identifies.
Incense burns, soft music plays,
The creatures around feel no threat in me,
Peace is in this moment… as they drift through my space.
Fox about from time-to-time,
Birds playfully all day, not aware of me.
Standing in this quiet place,
The center of a park, in the earth, as a natural place.
To have landed so well planted
On a castle that is the center of my soul;
To be in being again, present now, without, within.
Wind blows and breath goes in rhythm.
It flows through the essence of this space;
The way it moves by not moving,
Changing the way we see the world.
Words foretold the inevitable…awaken to the moment.
Within it is the ever-present sound of a voice within,
A voice that speaks in no words, in a knowing.
A seeing without seeing, hearing without hearing,
So it goes as the breath flows through the space,
We see the electricity in thee, changing the world the way we see.
Awakening the sleeper in me, to again observe
A carrier of the light is the vehicle of body, mind and soul.
The light is the root, the center of the energy that is we.
Remembering the place, is the no place to remember,
It is in the now, in this great moment.
I am in this utterly quiet place,
Moving my body through this space.
Only to again remember to listen, observe and delight
In the moment of light, that moves through me
Each and every time I reflect upon it.
Liberty is in this space.
Oneness is only there, enveloping love abide in me,
Only souls, to see not to hide.
In this moment is true liberty, joy, and creator with thee.
See the flowers they neither toil nor spin… so are we in the hands of Creator this moment.
The Fall Of Children
Contributed by Nan Potts
Orange and red, conflict with an azure sky,
Flutter in a chilled breeze.
Yellow and gold, glitter in October sunlight,
Drift to the ground.
Amber highlights blend with the waning hues,
Coalesce into a colorful dynamism.
A single crown of silver observers abandon play,
The delineation of the old and the new.
Noise and laughter rush and surge,
Swirl with gusts and liberated foliage.
A joy ‘twixt generations in a commonality
Of abiding colors at a surrendering time.
A bittersweet chromaticity embellishes my autumn realm,
Donned by wee ones playing.
Diving into raked leaves with vigor,
Glowing shades that match their hair.
The days grow shorter and mine,
Diminished with their coming.
Once again this season draws to a close,
The fall of children.
