The patience of ordinary things.

Thought you would enjoy this poem by Pat Schneider posted at


It is a kind of love, is it not?
How the cup holds the tea,
How the chair stands sturdy and foursquare,
How the floor receives the bottoms of shoes
Or toes. How soles of feet know
Where they’re supposed to be.
I’ve been thinking about the patience
Of ordinary things, how clothes
Wait respectfully in closets
And soap dries quietly in the dish,
And towels drink the wet
From the skin of the back.
And the lovely repetition of stairs.
And what is more generous than a window?

“The Patience of Ordinary Things” by Pat Schneider
Art: Tori Avey

Text and image source: _/_Peggy @ ECUMENICUS

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From nothing and everything we come.

To nothing and everything we return.




I wanted to share this post from SEW1960 with you. She captures so well the complexity surrounding ” hurt”.


I hurt

like baby hurt

as in

I need mother’s milk,

Daddy’s shoulder.

The rest of the world

looks at me,


Can someone shut up that baby

or toddler?

I am the little girl

weeping in the closet

because I couldn’t tie my shoes

or lock the door.

I hold it all in

like everyone told me to do.

There are more important things

to weep about.

Have you not learned your lesson,

baby girl?

Learn what hurt means.

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Embracing Blues

This morning I let

melancholy have its say

and when, at day’s end,

the blues filled pond and sky,

blues’ beauty also filled me.




#AustraliaBushFires . . . Our children will bear witness

This elegant poem is from Earthschool Harmony via Purpleraysblog. May we all listen and act.


Be a witness:

We see you as your rain forest burns
ancient green lungs erupting into flame
we hear your anguished cries
the same ones mass media ignore
we will give a voice to the voiceless

We will be a witness

Greed and eco terrorism rule
trade deals and wealthy landowners
deal in secret handshakes and dirty money
genocide ecocide sabotage corruption and lies
human impact fuels the flames

We will be a witness

This holy green cathedral burns
sacred land and sentient beings fall
billions promised for bricks and mortar
the hypocrisy of government and religion
trying to blind us to the truth

We will be a witness

We each need to look within
reassess our individual greed
reassess our individual need
make change and take account
all living beings equal

We will be a witness

No fear only love
no violence only action
no longer blind we see

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A Place To Be

Newly fallen golden leaves join

leaves of years past, now stiff and brown. 

There was a time when they were fresh and green,

their place made possible

by other golden leaves that, in time,

released their hold and found a new place

in the ever-changing order of things.