When the Soul listens....

When the Soul listens, it already speaks a language that lives.
The softest of whispers have language and meaning:
Leaves in the trees chattering with one another,
Currents in the streams,
Clapping loudly and in agreement,
Wind and rain and clouds,
Whisper of God’s holy feet,
Speaking and revealing
The deep hidden Word so sweet,
When the Soul listens….

Guido Gezelle
(freely translated from Dutch)

art

Art does not reflect the visible, art makes visible the invisible.
(Paul Klee)

Winter

The cold that wants to make us small and narrow
makes us shrink and crawl away.

This is the time of the mysterious germinating,
of the rising light.

Increasing glow and appearance
In the hidden places
already present.


(author unknown)

Grief

Grief is something very rich.
Grieving for the death of a loved one
Can make you tender and loving
Mellow and living in the memory
Of times shared

You look at your aging hands
And it doesn’t matter anymore
That they look older than yesterday
And it does not make you frightened anymore
That they tell you, you are growing closer to dying

You would love to be with your loved ones
In the land of the dead, in the here after
And yet you don’t mind to be here
Where everything that mother earth gives
Is so extremely wise and beautiful

on time

And an astronomer said, Master, what of
Time?
And he answered:
You would measure time the measureless and
the immeasurable.
You would adjust your conduct and even direct
the course of your spirit according to hours and seasons.
Of time you would make a stream upon whose
bank you would sit and watch its flowing.

Yet the timeless in you is aware of life’s time-
lessness,
And knows that yesterday is but today’s memory
and tomorrow is today’s dream.
And that that which sings and contemplates in
you is still dwelling within the bounds of that first
moment which scattered the stars into space.
Who among you does not feel that his power
to love is boundless?
And yet who does not feel that very love,
though boundless, encompassed within the centre
of his being, and moving not from love thought
to love thought, nor from love deeds to other
love deeds?
And is not time even as love is, undivided and
paceless?


But if in your thought you must measure time
into seasons, let each season encircle all the other
seasons,
And let today embrace the past with remembrance
and the future with longing.

Kahlil Gibran

watch your thoughts...

Watch your thoughts...
they become your words
Watch your words...
they become your actions
Watch your actions...
they become your habits
Watch your habits...
they become your character...
Watch your character...
it becomes your destiny.

frank outlaw

art therapy with rinske