The Ground I Stand On Is Holy

Oh how I love this. It is so true! Natalie  🙂

Healing Soul Streams

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I do not have to go
To Sacred Places
In far-off lands,
The ground I stand on is holy.

Here, in this little garden
I tend
My pilgrimage ends.

The wild honeybees
The hummingbird moths
The flickering fireflies at dusk
are a microcosm
Of The Universe.
Each seed that grows
Each spade of soil
is full of miracles.

And I toil and sweat
And watch and wonder
And am full of love
Living in place –
In this place
For truth and beauty Dwell here.

~ Mary de La Valette
Photo at: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/543668986236840425/

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697. The day the Lord created hope was probably the same day He created Spring. ~Bern Williams

The peace and beauty
of a spring day
had descended upon 
the earth
like a benediction.
~Kate Chopin

Screen shot 2015-04-08 at 4.41.58 PM

Pink, pink, and more pink!  Yes I know there are others colors in the garden, but what a lovely color is pink, the quiet hue on the sweet side of red.  And then there are the wonderful names of the different shades of pink! What’s not to love about monikers like baby pink, berry pink, salmony pink, watermelon pink, and of course hot pink.  Though most of the pinks tone down the color red, hot pink stimulates the high levels of energy associated with passion which the color red often signifies. Even in realms other than the garden pink is a revered color.  For example, cities in the world are associated with it, businesses are linked to it, and then there’s the refreshing taste of pink lemonade consumed on hot summer days all over the world.  It’s also a color mentioned in a host of song lyrics, and of course pink is the color of romance and young love.  As a color long considered feminine, it was once a color associated with the Virgin Mary.  Last but not least  pink is the color of innocence, and as such it is oh so appropriate for the birthing of a new spring.

You will be secure, because there is hope; you will look about you and take your rest in safety. ~Job 11:18  ✝

Listen.

Listen

Listen to the sound of a soft shadow
creeping across the landscape
blurring the mountains .
Listen to the sigh of a day in limbo
like a held breath when all is stilled
no voices raised.
Listen to the sound of a solar eclipse
no birds sing in the trees,no lambs bleat
even the sea is still.
Listen to the silence.
Then the sun brings light and laughter back.
And birdsong fills the air again.

This was posted on Dragonsilk as you can see below, but when I reblogged it, appeared too dark to be easily read so I’ve copied and pasted it so it can be enjoyed.  It’s just too exquisite not to share.  Natalie

dragonsilk

Listen

Listen to the sound of a soft shadow
creeping across the landscape
blurring the mountains .
Listen to the sigh of a day in limbo
like a held breath when all is stilled
no voices raised.
Listen to the sound of a solar eclipse
no birds sing in the trees,no lambs bleat
even the sea is still.
Listen to the silence.
Then the sun brings light and laughter back.
And birdsong fills the air again.

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