*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

There are tender Kisses among the Trees
that start the gentle Breezes
ringing the Bells that move the Winter
to call the Snow to fall.

My world is One.

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There pours out from me a Silent River, so deep, and so full with Love.  It is the Light
from which all lights shine and every star twinkles.  It is the Source of all and It holds
all expressions of Itself in the tenderest care; in the most cherishing arms. 

None will fall.  None will bring forth what It is not.  It is the very Breath that is breathed
in all of expressive form. 

It is the Beginning that had no start and will not ever end.
It is the Strength that hums with softness.
It is the Stillness that is full of song.

It is the One; the Only One.
It is This that Is, and now I know, who I am. 

What do you want? asked the bird on the tree above my head.  It sang its words and I heard that a lovely day was in store for me.

What do I want? I asked myself.

I want to know what the wind is saying.  I want to know the secret the bells are holding in their chime.  I want to know how the sun makes its rounds in the world when its origin is the center of my heart.  I want to know many, many wonderful things of life.  But what I truly want, is to freely be myself in a world that feels like a magnetic pull outward to obey and never contradict it.

Oh Yes! said the bird.  Be that.

On the left side of the field of flowers from where stands my house is a lovely tree that took root overnight.  I awoke to its presence one day while it swayed in the soft morning breeze and it felt, for all the world, as if it had been there forever.

So I ask myself: is the feeling more important than the sight?  Perhaps my eyes are slow to bring to vision what is there.  Perhaps my eyes are sleeping while great surges of energies take place, moving molecules through time and space to become the event that appears as if out of the blue.  What invisible impulse gave it birth?

The tree is real, for I have climbed it.  I have sat on its branches, looked out over the field of flowers and felt the bark in all its roughness touch my skin and leave a mark.  I have smelled its fragrant blossoms in the spring and tasted its luscious fruit when the world had turned very warm.

Why did the tree come to live with me?  Who is this voiceless creature of such beauty and why are we able to delight in one another?  Who is a tree?  I ask softly because I am afraid to be answered.  I live now in a world where real questions are never asked. I’ve been made to be silly for asking them.  Still, the person I am wonders about a lot of things never thought important.  I sense my sanity depends on keeping my wonderment alive.

Gathered in my pockets are the questions of all my hopes and dreams.  I know, I know, that life is not mysterious.  The mystery is that my fellow beings do not search their pockets for the treasure of questions waiting there.  The answer comes as a question, after all.

I see a big moon in my sky this night.  I see a lovely rush of moonlight cover the Earth that outlines the mountains with a glow that makes them appear to be Christmas trees.  I see as far as Forever yet never leave the moment. 

I am standing on a small island in a sea of contentment.  I have a boat and the promise of a map that rewrites itself to the needs of the moment.  I have a Captain who never tires and knows the way through uncharted waters for he is the waters and the lands within them. 

I am surrounded by the beauty that I see within myself and the presence of the moreness that inhabits my Soul.  I am a soul — a quiet place to be where no adjustment to life is ever necessary; where all has already been done, and where the Sun is my own whisper of light and the Moon my glowing companion through the unknown but not unknowable.

There is nothing more to doubt, for the Wings that hold me aloft have not lost their power or the sun lost its give.  I am flexible in movement and sure-footed and free.  I am the wind and the sailor’s compass.  I am all of this and much, much more … for Life loves me.