To Love What Is Mortal

My friends, I had truly thought I would rejoin you here on Monday after my break from being on line. However, a dear friend unexpectedly died on Saturday and my heart has been fully engaged with that deep loss. I will return when I am able. The words that keep going through my mind like a mantra are those at the end of Mary Oliver's poem "In Blackwater Woods:"

"To live in this world you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; and, when the time comes to let it go, to let it go."

May death, when it comes, remind us to live this wisdom with open hearts and minds. ~ Oriah

As always the beauty captured in the photos of Karen Davis at Open Door Dreaming slows my breathing and helps me be in the moment.

Sitting with the Silence and the Snow

I am going to take a little time off line. The body is asking to be unplugged from the world -or at least from the flow of electronic information- for a little bit, and I have learned (the hard way) not to ignore what the body needs. In the meantime, I leave you with the latest poem I have had taped to my bathroom mirror. I do this to learn poems by heart, so I can carry them with me, so I can recite them slowly to myself as I walk through the snow. ~Oriah

The Sound of Snow

She asked me how to describe the sound
of snow falling softly in the mountains.

I stood among the flurries until the tears came,
until I couldn't stop them. Not even
if I’d wanted to,

and I didn’t.

And, after a good long while, I replied:

“You must let your heart break for want of love.

You must listen carefully when it does.

Whatever it is you hear then,

that is it;

That is the sound of snow falling,

softly,

in the mountains.”

© 2014-2017/Jamie K. Reaser
From "Winter: Reflections by Snowlight"
Published by Hiraeth Press

Another beautiful photo from Karen Davis at Open Door Dreaming.