Spirit Wisdom


I don’t usually have an intent or a message when I sit down to write.  My daily practice is to write first thing in the morning, before I’m too awake and my mind is racing with thoughts of the day. I only write for about 15-20 minutes, whatever comes to mind.  It’s a bit similar to the practice of Julia Cameron’s “Morning Pages”.  I suppose like morning pages, these writings are out of my subconscious somewhere, just waiting to be released.  Perhaps it’s that angel inside that needs to free her voice.

In the great dawn of your unrest
Spirit knows
And in its knowing you too can know

If you only listen
If you only hear
If you allow for the great wisdom to flow through

Cleanse what you thought you knew
Deepen your devotion
Make room for only love to rule the day

Make nests in the tree of your soul
Hatch the next generation of prophets
And lovers of the light

Rest now in love
The passageway
The mirror
The corridor to salvation

©SpiritLed 2015

In the Heart of All that Is

Love mandala

Get out of your own mind,
fraught with worry and doubt,
think with your soul,
drop down into your heart,
open wide to reconnect
with the ancient wisdom
that can only be found in silence,
listening with invisible ears
which hear deeper, wider,
and more passionately than any human sense,
sensing from the very depths of being,
casting out all that isn’t real,
focusing only on that which can be defined as love,
real love that doesn’t cause pain
or crack under pressure,
or break when the agony of the world becomes too much to bear,
real love that flows smoothly with no bumps or turns,
flowing with the urgency of unconditional connection
to the greater Love,
the one who is love and shares love
outside the mind
beyond the body
in the heart of all that is

©SpiritLed 2015

Walking Home


First pause after the rotation of the calendar
generates an achiness,
a wisdom yearning to break free

feels like blue-green waves,
rumbles like thunder on a summer night,
flashes like heat lightning,
flaring up, divinely beautiful,
yet causing no real harm

provides only a map against the night sky
a brief illumination –
catch a glimpse and then it’s gone –
emblazoned emblem
holds the future in momentary display
and then darkness,
an achy rumbling,
walking home

©SpiritLed 2015


The final day of vacation holds a sadness
a knowing that the hermit life created for a time must end
that all the sandy remnants washed upon the shore
which once housed life
now provide enjoyment for collectors

as their broken parts begin to renourish the shoreline
as your broken parts started to renourish while on temporary retreat

Yet the wholeness is still fleeting
as soon as the water washes upon the shore
it just as quickly recedes
and even an extended solitary stay
cannot stop the feeling
of slipping away

And so the melancholy pervades
even as the others play and walk the beach
in quiet confidence of more time

More time –
     It’s what you always want
     no matter the endeavor

More time to hug your children
More time to finish your work
More time to stay still

More –
     Nothing is ever enough

Why can’t the blessed moments in life be enough
     without wanting more?

Each moment is encapsulated in the now, past and
     future are no longer or not yet real

More implies lack, and looking out at this expanse
     you know you want for nothing
     except for More

Each shell you collected is real today but gone tomorrow
     and you still want More

Each day a gift, never to be received again
     and yet you sit, melancholy on the sand
     counting the hours until you must part
     rather than counting the waves, the shells,
     the single grains of sand that could fill up
     an entire lifetime of More

Waves, shells, sand
     they know everything comes to an end
     transition is the only way to sustain life
     they share their wisdom
     for those who are open to hear
     those who dare to turn their backs on More

SpiritLed 2014


It gets to you eventually,
though you may pretend
you don’t hear the siren song,
running for too long only smashes
you into the neon sign
that was waiting for you anyway,
you may selfishly chase other ideas,
only to realize you are nothing more
than a dog barking after its own tail,
round and round in circles you go,
until you finally listen to the innate language
of the spirit inside, which calls you
to your higher purpose, guides you
through the most dimly lit corridors
and sun-bathed expanses,
shelters in the times of greatest need

You can avoid and hide,
but until you set your life
aside and atone to inner wisdom,
intuition will seek you out,
find you in your most hidden places,
and if you allow, direct you
to the purpose of your being

©SpiritLed 2014

In the Stillness of Her Mind

Lost in thought, her mind
wanders to a younger day, when she
expertly walked the tightrope over joy and
pain, a misstep here and there, but
never completely losing herself in that
cauldron of self-awareness bubbling

Pain – it was not feared then, but
admired, on the weathered faces of
the elders, noting their wisdom and
grace, the simple way they brushed
her hair from her face, and kissed
her forehead, assuring her with their own
worry that there was none for her

But now she wonders where that
elder-wisdom has gone, and will it ever
find her, or if it’s even hers to long for,
the kiss of peace long ago washed from
her furrowed brow.

When did she stop trusting herself?
Was it the first time she rolled over in her
lover’s bed only to find he wasn’t there?
When she felt the sharp sensation of betrayal
from one she considered a friend?
When the sting of loss pierced her heart so
deeply she thought she would drown in the tears
she never cried?

In the stillness that is left she listens,
listens for anything that will convince her
she’s alive, and in that empty place, darkness
reverberates like a thousand universes swirling
around their suns, like the hum of angel wings,
like the breath of creation in her ears

Like all those who came before her
Like all who will ever come

The sound of no sound
bringing life, bringing light
resting in the goodness that rests
inside the stillness of her mind,
where she is whole

©SpiritLed 2014

Everything is Right in the World

I can think of a million complaints
Imperfections in my life
Yet as I marvel at the moon
The message is received:
In this moment, everything is right in the world.

Each petty grievance is erased as the moon whispers to me
The secrets of the Universe
There are grains of wisdom to be found in suffering
Suffering is largely a choice anyway
A choice to rise above or to remain immersed
In the details beyond our control.