  Spiritual
This week: Edited by: larryp
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Do not stand on my grave and weep; I am not there.
I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn's rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in the circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry; I am not there.
I did not die.
~~unknown author |
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It’s a quiet Saturday morning. People are out walking and traffic on Clinton Parkway is sporadic and slower moving than on a normal weekday. The scene outside the window is almost melancholic. After a long-needed rain, the grass is coming to life in clumps of green, not a bright green yet, more a lazy, hazy green. The skies are grey, still trying to shed the cumbersomeness of winter and the trees appear stoic, barren of leaves, not sure if the long hibernation period has ended. The breezes are gentle, even the flag sags from atop the pole. The hum of motors provides humble background drumming and the chirping of birds is strangely missing, as if something has been left out – an omitted scene that didn’t quite fit the melancholy.
But soon will come the days when I will venture out with my lawn chair to perch along the shores of Clinton Lake, in my special quiet place. Here the sounds of the city are dulled and the skies seem a deeper blue, though it is the same sky, as I only travel a few short miles from city to lake to find the solace of quietness and peace.
But I think maybe quiet is relative; for it’s not really quiet at the lake. The waves roll in sloshing against the jagged bank and the wind resonates from whispers to howls, depending upon the day. Hawks screech, peering through pin-point accurate eyes, searching the ground below for prey. Robins chatter and sparrows whistle, darting back and forth among the finches, and an occasional blue jay squawks disapproval. Vultures and cranes fly eerily over the water’s surface, anxiously flapping wide-spanned wings. Dragonflies and mosquitoes buzz past my ears and the baritone voice of bullfrogs serenade on stone stages, supported by an orchestra of string waves and oboe winds.
When I think of the concept of quiet, the idea of lack of sound comes to mind. But I think I would probably go crazy in a place void of sound. It would be much like the dingy cells of isolation in prisoner-of-war camps, where the captive longs to hear another human voice. I think total silence would be far from peaceful, at least for any extended period of time.
I am thankful for noise. I remember the laughter of my children and the gentle breathing of my wife as she sleeps in what is called the silence of night. I remember the sounds of my grandfather sawing in the garage and of my grandmother on her sewing machine. I think I would have missed so much in life had I not heard these things.
I enjoy my place of solace, even though it is not quiet, for there I can hear the wind and all the things it carries on wings. I can hear the voice of God a little better out there, away from all the distractions of man-made noises. I feel a settling in my spirit as I become one with the sounds of solace, things that stir a passion within my soul.
In this place of solace, I cast off the restrictions of a cumbersome winter, taste the fresh air, and hear the soft sounds of simple creations. In this place, I experience a relationship with the Creator; as winter fades away, I feel fresh words lingering in my heart and I know why this place of solace with the quiet sounds have become so much a part of who I am. For here, I breathe the winds of poetry and sense a world beyond the one I live in daily, and I am better for the experience. I go there as often as possible.
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Contemplations of quiet and soltace from WDC writers:
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| |  | The Hike (E)
This poem was inspired while hiking the old growth forests in the Pacific Northwest.
#1077676 by Emily   |
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windacwrites:
[[[[HUGE, HEARTFELT HUGS]]]]
Another inspiring issue!
Thank you Windac for your continual support. I remember the wonderful newsletters you once wrote and to receive your comments is very rewarding. ~~Larry
Incurable Romantic writes:
Larry, your newsletter on weariness and depression was EXCELLENT. Thanks again for sharing your personal position on this difficult subject. The same combination hits me at various times, and I, too have learned to recognize the signs. I'm not 100% effective yet at blocking the troublesome thoughts at the door, but I think I'm getting better at it. Once again an important topic is brought in the open by someone who's been there. And that's the best way for others to believe what they're reading. Excellent writing!
Incurable Romantic -Thank you for your supportive comments. I too am working on the 100%. "And that's the best way for others to believe what they're reading." I have found this to be true in the things I read, which is why I always try to do so in my writing. Thanks for sharing your experiences. ~~Larry
Tornado Day writes:
Dearest friend,
I understand those unwanted visitors....my triggers are slightly different but none-the-less, persistent. It's still hard to resist them and I am often reminded of the story "Beautiful Mind" and the constant companions that his psychosis represented.
You are right about the rest.....I often to remind myself that if I am late with a project, it is unlikely that anyone will die because of it.......and doing that mental check puts things into clearer perspective.
Thanks for the mention of my latest in the newsletter.
You are loved.....be gentle with yourself.
Love,
Bobbie
Bobbie - Thank you dear Bobbie for sharing your experience and for reminding us of "Beautiful Mind." The mental checks are so important. As one of the biggest fans of your poetry, I am always honored to include one of your poems in the newsletter. You are a consistently creative poet whose words carry much signifcance to the heart of the reader.~~Larry
writes:
Just for the record Kansaspoet, almost every word you wrote on this subject, is EXACTLY what happens to me, too.
It may not help much, but neither of us is alone.
Raphael
Raphael - I once heard that some of the greatest news in the world is that one is not the only person going through something in life. Others are there or have been there and can relate with us. Thanks for your support and for your kind comment. ~~Larry
The editing team of the Spiritual Newsletter thanks each of you for taking the time to read the weekly newsletter. We hope you enjoy reading them as much as we enjoy writing them. Be sure to read and review the writings from the "Editor's Picks" section.
The Spiritual Newsletter team:
Sophurky 
kittiara
larryp
and our guest editors
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Spiritual: March 25, 2009 Issue [#2966]
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