everything i need

because i have my garden,
because i have you,
i have everything.
thank you.  ilysm!

 

promising

standing out there in the ecosophia garden, i watch and see the leaves offer up like bunches of bouquets. . .

and i listen for the calm, soft and hushed quiet.  i swear, i can hear them flourishing, blooming, promising!

the peanuts made daring revelations, the corn grew new and audacious leaves, the spring onions, too.

the tomato flowers made promises. 

 the string beans unfolded bold hope.

the radishes show their roots, with honesty ajar, gaping, waiting for the rains.

the seeds we have sown. . .make us wait with utmost faith.
and standing there still, in a world of growing all around me, i see how the harvest would come.

and i wait fot the fruit of humble truth.

and the yield of a quiet, steady grace.

for this weekend, i am grateful for the promises these blooms bring.  and i know you keep good them.  

thank you!  and ilysm!  bwahahaha! ♥ ♥ ♥ 

standing

with all that is going on in the fields, the greens now turn to different shades of emerald, jade, olive, lime and sea. . .

i stand my ground, firm, fixed and resolved.  

i do not hold back, restrain or hesitate, i never do.

i throw myself into the work, confident, sure and certain. . .

that nothing i do for him is a waste of time and effort.

for this weekend, i am grateful for knowing where i am standing.

thank you for the greens on the ground i walk on. ilysm. . .i know you know it.  ♥ ♥ ♥

planting

i am grateful for the soft soil and black humus, and open earth. . .

i am grateful for the grace of planting small seeds. . . of good things and of hope.

thank you for the promise of a harvest. . . ilysm.  ♥ ♥ ♥
 

eyes up, eyes up!

it is sunday morning, and so often happens, i tend to forget who i am, where am goin', how to get there.  bwahahaha!  not that am suffering from any gaps, just that it seems i have beset upon the self, some schedule that seems impossible to keep.  bwahahaha!

i sometimes, only see my starbucks planner, the calendar, the list, the tasks. . .  it is definitely an obstacle course ahead, with a new week starting.  but i love a new week, a new beginning.

i get lost in the maze of everyday sked, sometimes i grope my way back in track.  sometimes, well, i leap my way back!

and then comes the whisper. . .

lift up your eyes!  you are a pilgrim to the celestial city.

i remember a story i heard some time ago, about a man who found a five-dollar bill on the street and who from thence, never lifted his eyes from walkin'.  in the course of his time, he found 29516 buttons, 54172 pins, 12 cents, a bent back and a miserly disposition. 

but what he really lost, is a lot more:  he did not see the radiance of the sunlight, the sheen of the stars, the smile on the faces of his friends, the blossoms of the trees alongside the paths, for his eyes were on the gutter.

sometimes, i catch myself being the same!  i know i have important duties on earth, but i must never allow them to make me so busy to a point that i forget who i am and where i am goin'.

it is sunday morning, and yes, i look at my planner and on it are some pressing duties this week, aside from my trip to the city.  but why live with a bent back?  naaaah!  i walk out into the week with eyes not down but lifted up.  eyes up, eyes up!

thank you for giving me numerous reasons to lift my eyes up!  ilysm!  i know you know it!  ♥ ♥ ♥

a holy experience

and it was there in the dark and i could feel you close. . .
it was cloudy but i could see all the stars twinkling like my smile. . .

the warmth of your touch lingered through my dreamless sleep. . .
your scent awakened me to greet this august morning,

dressed in light, 
perfumed in fresh cut greens, 
all the yellow petals absolutely positive of your beautiful love. . .

thank you for the yellow petals strewn on the ground i walk on. . . ilysm!  ♥ ♥ ♥ 

purpose

i just came from a meeting, make it several meetings, in naga city.  on the bus ride home, i could not help but think about stuff.  i always look forward to my bus rides, they give me time to think and reflect, reason why i do not really engage in chats while on board.  and this evening, while i was feeling the cool breeze through the open window caress my face, i could feel some tears streaming down it, reasons of which i would rather keep to myself.  but somehow, that led me to think hard, really hard and tried to find some answers to my question.  i have been thinking, what is really the purpose?  it seems everywhere i go, someone is discussing their life's purpose, or asking me, what is my life's purpose?  and to be honest, i really do not know.  well, did not know.  the only thing i ever really wanted to be in life, was a wife and a mother, and both seemed to have been deprived of me.  i just think myself out of the gloom of it with: maybe i would not have been great at either one of them.  bwahahaha!  yeah right.

so, what is my purpose?

while not being able to write down on the journal (it is hard to write when the bus i am on makes sudden jerks and jolts), my thoughts about the question, i am pounding my lappy's keys right now, lest i forget those thoughts.  and i came up with a pretty amazing answer.  (at least i think it is amazing!)  the emptiness that i feel. . . i think is the loss that my soul feels when it suffers separation from its source.  (not that we are truly separate, but when this human experience of feeling bad and alone hits me, it can feel like we are separate.)  and that feeling of being separate from the force is what creates those feelings of longing and restlessness. . .like something is missing in my life.

so, how can i soothe that feeling of barrenness, meaninglessness, emptiness?  it was elusive, at first, maybe because i was refusing to know and accept, but i soon came to realize, appreciate and comprehend, that this is where my creative process comes into play, as my way to connect myself even more fully with the force.  when i commit my thoughts, my dreams, my aspirations, and yes, even my sorrow and despair, that also sometimes visit me, when i put them on paper or canvass, i share a bit of my holy relationship with those who see and experience them.  also even when they remain unseen or unheard of, still, that holy energy is released into the world.

my purpose then, is to soothe my soul with an outpouring of mysticism from the force.  and if it has no other value than that. . .then it is the most valuable thing i have.

so in gratitude, inspite and despite. . . i go on.