Slowly the Sun sets and the heat is broken.
There is no road to walk across the lake….
No easy trail on which to stand.
Still, we hold on, swimming toward eternity
Or the lack of it, each day serving as we can.
It was said of Hemingway
That he tortured no one as much as himself.
Yet even he confessed that
Love was infinitely more enduring than hate.
Not until broken do we begin to heal.
Not until we fall do we learn to rise.
Not until lost do we find what we seek.
Sit quietly in evening coolness
Until inside you feel the rise of calming wind,
Find the oasis within the desert of your soul.
Quietly watch fading light
Until the Universe appears within the stars.
Yes, I know it hurts
When the heart is stretched so wide….
Loves not one but the Whole,
Fills the empty spaces until overflowing
Yet free of all desire.
Here the silent cry does not rise from loneliness
But Oneness with the spinning Earth.