Saturday, September 26, 2015

Half and Half



Half and Half
Lynda Allen

Half daylight, half darkness.
Upon this equinox even the moon offered only half of herself to reflect the light,
leaving half lost to sight in shadow.
Like her, my halves are not separate,
there is simply a portion that is turned toward the light,
and a portion that is temporarily in shadow.
It feels right to enter autumn this way.

There on the border between light and dark, I can pause, and like the trees,
allow to fall away what is no longer life giving,
what can no longer provide nourishment.
When there has been a shift in the balance of light and dark,
the tree releases the leaf and it simply falls away,
and even in falling away yet creates energy and nourishment in a new way
for the tree that was its home.

Quietly then, I surrender into the stillness of half and half
in preparation for the fall.



 Copyright 2015 Lynda Allen

Saturday, September 5, 2015

Wild Divinity

I was at Water Street Studio for writing time yesterday and only got as far as one sentence in the middle of Beauty: The Invisible Embrace by John O'Donohue, before his words sparked a journey within me. The words that launched the journey were "wild Divinity." He used them to describe the ocean, but they took me far and wide. I'm forever grateful to him for the constant source of inspiration his words provide. 

Mr. O'Donohue, I know whatever form you have taken now,  you are enjoying your own journey of wild Divinity! 

Wild Divinity 
Lynda Allen

I want to live with wild Divinity.

I want the secrets of the night
to glow on my moonlit lips.

I want the scent of lavender on a warm breeze
to be my companion for a picnic in the summer meadow.

I want to hold the hand of God,
feeling the beat of Her all-knowing heart in Her fingertips.

I want to immerse myself in the mighty ocean
and celebrate each drop of water within her.

I want to be the perch for the hummingbird,
as he catches his breath for a moment between jousts.

I want to melt with the rocks in the heat in the Earth’s belly,
quietly awaiting my chance to soar, flow and transform.

I want to live knowing each moment is one I’ve never seen before,
nor will ever see again, filled with sweetness and sorrow, light and dark.

I want to be the ray of the sun breaking through the clouds
taking my own breath away with hope, possibility, warmth and light.

I want to be love,
unfettered and free,
tumbling and cartwheeling through the stone gray sky,
like an acrobatic snowflake,
only to land gently upon your outstretched tongue,
and melt slowly into you.