Inspirational and spiritual prose and poetry, short stories, and photography

The site address is:
http://www.Morningstarslight.com

What we might hear, at first, is simply the flurry of our own heart, beckoning and calling to the light, to lift us higher, to allow us to see all that we may be, all that we already are.

We can be grateful for what has been, that has laid the foundation of our growth and our wisdom, and we can also allow ourself to step out of the old skin, that no longer fits, that small self we no longer want to be.

As we still ourselves, succumbing to the silence of All-That-Is, we invite the voice of God Goddess, to guide us, to answer our prayers, and to help us know that we are, most certainly, never alone.

And then, from within the depths of our reflection, a voice is heard, welling up inside of us, and its message is one of love:

“Be still, and know you are supported, and that Our love is ever-present, We are always here to hold you, within Our loving, to guide you in your heart. We are the ground beneath your feet, just as We are the mountain that you climb—to realize your dreams. Everything is destined, your path is already laid, you only need surrender to the love that is here, already inside of you, and that flows from Our heart.

We are the answer that you are seeking, the one thing for you to reach for, and hold onto. We will never leave you, and through Our love, you behold everything, that is your Self.”

So let us together realize the wealth, the love, the wisdom, that is already inside of us, let us remember that everything is already given, it is already here. It rests within the well of our divinity, that we are invited to drink from, in everyday. That our reality, and life, may reflect only this truth and benevolence, and in this we can be grateful for All that is already given.

Even though people have written the names of form upon your vast trunk,

and the winds of change have marked the earth before you, still you reach upwards towards the skies. Offering leafy branches to touch the heavens through trunk-like arms, three in all, that harvest many children of spiraling tendrils, nestled with leafy hearts.

The wind stirs you, moving the silence around you and is the company that you keep, ever secure in your demise, strengthened by something that is beyond this world.

You have carried many ages, marked through the inner circles of your stem, and may have forgotten your young sapling days. Yet the eras that have been marked their terrain inside if you, now held as the wisdom, of the sage – the grandfather tree that you are.

Whatever you aspire to, in your reaching, even as the pathways of the arms of your canopy may reach towards the stars, your strength is your capacity, enabling you to go on. To move between the worlds, honoring the secrets of the universe and anchoring them to this earth. For even the breath of life speaks to you, and wonders when you will carry it home.

Perhaps by man’s hand one day you will be hewn, or if you remain to see a new world uncovered, your spirit will exist still. As the rock of ages upon which, on this day, I etch my heart, in love of you, in appreciation of your kind and under whose leafy branches I rest my head. And from your strength and bounty I am reborn, nestled in the silence of your rest.

Eased into life, softened by a mother’s touch, loved and adored for just being.

Time to kiss and time to play. Time for peek-a-boo, and time for resting.
A time to sit and reflect on the birds in the trees, the passers by, and to let the warmth of the sun lull us into sleep.

These are the wonders of each day that I spend with my little fur child, the treasure of my heart, whose whiskers tickle my nose as I nuzzle and kiss her little head. Who awakens me each morning with the enthusiasm for a new day to be explored and who rests at my side each night, that we may share our dreams but mostly that we may share our love.

Golden sunlight filters through the trees casting shafts of light upon the leafy floor revealing natural pathways to unknown destinations.

My company takes the form of a hummingbird who dances through the light and shadows and whose elegant form, weaves an invisible tapestry in mid-air.
Even as her activity invites my eyes, I am drawn towards the silence of the great oak, drawing upon its strength and asking for it to teach me of stillness so that my mind can rest long enough to receive the riches from within.

“Time” an answer comes,

“There is no time and nothing external that needs your attention. Time does not exist, it melts like the winter’s snow and come only in passing to the infinite, the Universal Spirit that is all things.”

“All existence is held here, inside of you, like a boundless infinite void where you may rest, taking nourishment until the moment when you might weave your threads of creation in the realm of the external. And from which, yet again, to the silence you will inevitably make your return.”

“Learn to feel your attunement to the natural rhythm within you, let its grace be your guidance, let yourself simply embrace what it is that you need. What you need to do the most is to rest under the guardianship of my leafy arms, feel supported by the solid oak of my embodiment and let life ride for a while until you are guided to catch the next rainbow and fly. Until that moment arrives come rest with me in the silence that is beyond the world.”

Perhaps its interior hides secrets yet to be revealed or mysteries that will never be discovered, like a secret held within the heart that if became known would change the substance of our form.

I wonder why I selected this stone, flat and gray and yet solid and secure. I wonder where it has traveled, on how many paths it has laid throughout its existence. Carried by the tides, fallen from mountain tops, sunk to the depths of the ocean until the moment when carried by my hands it found itself nestled beneath my wood- carved eagle set beside my altar, a witness to my prayers. Perhaps I chose its certainty, the wholeness of its circular form, drawn into its beauty, smoothness to touch as if caressing my own soul.

How can the world that has known so much lack

Cut off, in its consciousness, from the Source of loving,

Ever be able to offer to the hunger

Of our soul

The love that we want and truly deserve.

How can a love’s embrace, that is always going to be lacking

In the arms of those

Even unable to hold their own emptiness,

Ever give to us all that we long for,

All that we need.

How can the words of our parents, lovers and friends

Feed us with the truth of our beingness,

As their own mouths have been fed with a field of lies

Built upon the foundation stone of a world

Closed to its own light.

What truth can be offered, but that which is found in our own heart.

What grace can be given, but that which arises from within,

Fed to our souls from the deep well of love’s offering.

And through that divinity

 we take our ascension

 into grace.

 I rest in the comfort of my deck chair sipping my first cup of tea and take delight in the first visit of the hummingbird that dances before me and comes so close that I am caught in the laughter of my own surprise. These hummingbirds spend their summer dancing in the trees overhanging my favorite morning perch. They seem to bring the message of play that awaits me, the long heady days in the sun, cooling myself in the warming waters of the swimming pool and ocean alike.

 The days that await me are my favorite of the year, as I watch the joyful innocence of children at the ocean’s shore, as I chat with neighbors at the poolside and take myself on outdoor adventures. One of my favorite summer nesting places is a small man made lake, surrounded by coffee shops and outdoor seating. Here I spend my time watching a family of turtles with newborns paddling around their mother’s head trying to capture her attention, and whose tiny little arms paddle so hard to keep up as she takes her afternoon swim.

 These summer days are a time for festivals and art shows, which are the only occasions, for me, when the happy bustle of people adds to the flavor of the day as together we share the joy of summer’s warmth and the outdoor congregation that summer invites.

 Cool water, vital and fresh invites my body to taste its allure as my form ventures into the crystal clear depths that thrill my senses and feel like a baptism from heaven.

These sky blue waters refresh my soul and awaken every cell and capture my delight as I savor each moment.  As I further explore this fluid landscape my feet barely feel the reach of  coral beneath. I shift my body to lie upon the soft surface of the water that acts as a looking glass to the wealth of activity below. And with my snorkel firmly secured I gaze into an undiscovered world.

 New friends emerge almost immediately among them is a blue fish with ripples of yellow stretching from his fin to his tail. His bulbous eyes seem to glare in surprise and then he relaxes into the familiarity of the aliens from the surface who impose on his luminous world from time to time.

 The gentle rhythm of the tide stirs the coral with its lapping touch, sea anemones swoon to its stirrings with their many flowers fingers waving hello to the passers by such as the school of minnows who suddenly appear from the deep fissures in the coral’s intricate network of elaborate growth.

 With the ocean current strengthening I find myself drifting slightly beyond the coral garden into a haze of sand filtering through the water made visible from the light above. Suddenly I see a stirring in the mass of cloudiness and a head pops forward, a sudden meeting of mutual surprise. This elongated neck protrudes from a massive shell floating behind. He steers his craft a little closer and I gaze into his wizened eyes, and then he comes a little closer still and I find myself gently retreating from this new and uncertain yet exciting experience. The first turtle I have even seen, up close and personal, I can’t believe my luck.

 As suddenly as he appears he is gone, disappearing into the misty waters and I am left with just a tinge of regret for having retreated from his gaze.

 As I gently head towards the shallows I feel the rapture of this newly discovered world of my experience. I understand the surge of excitement and adventure a child must feel as they take their first steps into a new world that completes all their senses.

 I wade towards the shore and take my rest on the hot recently dried sand.  I bask in the afternoon sun that sparkles as kisses of light beneath my half closed eyelids. I ponder the wondrous world of the ocean depths and savor my new experience.

 I also rest in the awe of the possibility of other undiscovered worlds that are awaiting me and other new friends that I may meet.

Tom was a cheerful child ever willing to help, with a soft kind heart. His love of animals was always apparent as chicks and swans and local farm animals often where his playmates. Tom had a gift for making up stories about the animals he would see and sometimes play with. Such stories he would share with his grandchildren many years down the road.

Often Tom would visit his Aunt Jenny, she could read tealeaves for his mother and many of the townswomen. She bore the gift that many in his family lineage bore, the gift of foresight, sensitive seeing. Tom, unbeknown to his self, also had this gift of psychic knowing but in Tom this gift was mostly shown through his love, his sensitive open heart and loving presence. Throughout his life children and animals could sense this about him and always gravitated towards him.

What did the future hold for young Tom, with his spindly legs and ever warm heart? Aunt Jenny turned the saucer over the teacup for him on occasion as he sat beside her fire eating some tasty treat she had given to him.

“I see you flying, young Tom, I see you in the RAF (Royal Air force)” She shared as she hovered over the dregs of tealeaves strewn at the bottom of his cup.

Young Tom looked up to see if there was truth in Aunt Jenny’s eyes, and as he has the same gift of foresight, he could see that what she proclaimed was in fact true.

“Yes boyo” Aunt Jenny continued

 “And you’ll marry a lady far above your station, upper class she’ll be and she’ll give it all up just for you because she loves you so much.” Aunt Jenny predicted with absolute certainty.

My grandfather Tom did indeed meet someone ‘above his station’, my grandmother. Her refined ways always complimented the refinement of my grandfather’s unconditional loving heart. They would be together throughout their lifetime, living well into their 90’s, taking their passage to the next life within a month of each other, always together, forever sharing the love they had been given, a love that was for always.