The trees are still dark against the light blue of dawn.
Clouds, touched with gold, herald the rising sun.
It is time for a poem.
There is joy
in the hair I brush each morning,
in the Cannon towel, newly washed,
that I rub my body with each morning,
in the chapel of eggs I cook
in the outcry from the kettle
that heats my coffee
in the spoon and the chair
that cry out,”hello there, Anne”
in the godhead of the table
that I set my silver, plate, cup upon
All this is God,
right here in my pea-green house
and I mean,
though often forget,
to give thanks,
to faint down by the kitchen table
in a prayer of rejoicing
as the holy birds at the kitchen window
peck into their marriage of seeds.
So while I think of it,
let me paint a thank-you on my palm
for this God, this laughter of the morning
lest it go unspoken.
The joy that isn’t shared, I’ve heard,
……………ANNE SEXTON (1928-1974)
Her words, as alive today, show there is no ending,
only a transition to another awareness.
This morning’s thoughts are wings for the words we
would say to those who have chosen this time to
move on. To those who are leaving this world and
its fluctuating mind/body/soul adventures for the
next experience, Pat and you, too, Brendan, listen up:
“The time will come
when, with elation,
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror,
and each will smile at the other’s welcome
and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread.
give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you
all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.
…………..DEREK WALCOTT, from the book,
Saved by a Poem, (Kim Rosen)
The title of the poem is: Love after Love.
It’s not new to most of us, I go back to it, again and
again. And again and again, I relax and
go for the ride.
Let’s jump right in.
I have so many wonderful memories of Pat and so
many sessions with Emmanuel over the years that
crowd in for a voice this morning as I think of her
passing to spirit yesterday, April 4th.
To begin with, a Q & A:
“Q: Where are you, Emmanuel when you are not
speaking through Pat?
A: I am everywhere Love is and so are You.
Q: I have been accustomed to thinking of the inner
mystery of myself as God or Divine. You use the word
‘Angel’. Is it the same?
A: Absolutely, as long as you allow God to be who
The concept of God has, traditionally, been given such
awesome, distant, historic vastness.
Angels are more manageable.
Q: What is the state we know as enlightenment?
A: Such a state involves the perception of two realities
When one moves to the awareness where all things
are seen as perfect and therefore as dancing light,
while one is still holding profound respect for the
one becomes a bridge to both worlds.
That, I would say, is enlightenment in physical form.
When physical form is done with, then one can erase
“enlightenment” and simply pencil in “Homecoming.”
Q: Is it possible to live enlightened in the world?
A: Yes, but you will not then see the world as you do
now. Your senses will clear and you will see nothing
but Angels walking in the masquerade of their own
When I say you are Angels, that is exactly what I
mean. I am not using a metaphor. I am not just
choosing a pleasant word.
I am stating what I know to be true.
You are beings of Light.
Let me urge you again to be who You are.
You will then fulfill every dream you have ever had,
merely by that one simple commitment
to trust yourselves..
When your human hearts are in accord with
the Angel’s mission,
you experience bliss, absolute delight,
and joy, for no reason that will satisfy the mind.
You will find yourselves daring to reach beyond
……………………………….. an excerpt from
EMMANUELS’S BOOK 111, ‘What is an Angel Doing Here?’
In the next few days I will share other material from these
Whenever I was present at the public Emmanuel events at
Wainwright House in Rye, NY, I so resisted Emmanuel’s
answers to” first love oneself”! Wonderful, specific
advice followed, but in my frustration with my life as it was,
I just wanted answers to be spelled out for me.
It turns out I had to live it out, …. still doing that.
It’s Monday, not yet sun up. How would I like
to spend this day, this week? Say it’s my choice
and not a day when I must be somewhere, doing
some thing to earn my way. Maybe a poet could
spell it out, for example:
“I envy those
who live in two places:
new york, say, and london;
wales and spain;
l.a. and paris;
hawaii and switzerland.
there is always the anticipation
of the change, the chance that what is wrong
is the result of where you are. i have
always loved both the freshness of
arriving and the relief of leaving. with
two homes every move would be a homecoming.
i am not even considering the weather, hot
or cold, dry or wet: i am talking about hope.”
………….GERALD LOCKLIN, from Good Poems,
selected by Garrison Keillor.
I didn’t want to give away that last line by entitling
this daily as HOPE. What better way to begin a week,
than with ‘hope’ on the agenda. That reminds me
of what the winter has lost track of: my lavender
hours, scattered here and there across any week.
Three lavender hours, scattered here and there
across the week, in which to pause and do anything
I choose to. Call a friend, sit in the sun, wander through
the library for a book. Listen to music, dance if I feel
like it. Sleep on my yoga mat with the shades all the way
What would you do with three lavender hours now and