Suffer not long the tokens of servitude desperately seeking twilight and outrage, for we are not lost upon the battlefield, only gaining our perspective again.

Stable ground awaits those who trust profoundly.

Leave the way where rocks and thorns deter the path, keeping the faith undisturbed.

Listen in the quiet places that nourish the soul.

When water and wind overwhelm and the road is full of thorns, see with your inner sight.

We are walking alone and yet never alone.

The rivers and tides are strong but not as strong as God.

Filtering the light that bathes our being unfurls powerful and delicate vibrations, magnificent energy, magnificent vibrations of holiness.

Angels gather in the darkness to bathe the world in dawn’s pure holy light.

I sit in the garden . . . and in the tender crevices in the labyrinths of my mind where gentle breezes let the holiness of the moment move me toward peace.

Waters of the soul bequeath a tender memory of holiness when the arid sands of futility desiccate the ground of our being.

Begin the day longing for the holiness, blessings, and sacred dreaming from what joy glows in everlasting consciousness.

Superb are the days of holiness when nothing can come that deters me from the Light.

The veil between this world and the next grows thin when holiness happens.

Fullness of spirit cannot be broken in the aftermath of our travails.  We are undone again and again, only to be remade with greater awareness of ourselves, our hears, our souls.

The canyons, bit by bit, shall be whittled away, becoming sand that travels to the ocean on mighty rivers, and pushed into new mountains.

Painful goodbyes usher in turning points wherein we must remake our lives.

As the night ends and dawn begins a new day, the vestiges of the pearls of yesterday begin to glow again.

The roads disappear:  we wander endlessly, and slowly the path forward becomes clear again.

Subtle changes begin, then arrange themselves in a pattern that we can see.