FootprintsintheWind.com

Fire my words are
The ones which speak me
—& I the wind

The wind feeds
Blows down, maybe out
Blow to rights, wind!

:- Doug.

Lenses about us
Look through them all!
Lake’s waters
Your lover’s eyes
The sky
Your friend
Your enemy
A goat
A mountain
A 90-foot tulip tree
An eagle
A book
A conversation
Lenses curve our sight, help us
See what’s there

:- Doug.

Community Disorganizing is what I do; conversation that cooks is how.

:- Doug.

It’s about caring about someone who’s still alive, rather than providing care to someone while they’re on their way out.

:- Doug.

Flowers flower for their milieu
For bees & butterflies to come & visit
to make the rounds of thee & me & these & those
& we are already found to be made of star stuff
& it takes at least 3 to twinkle

:- Doug.

Can you flower? What would it take?
You already are flower stuff:
root & stem, earth & light
Who were you before you
replanted yourself in that constricting pot?

:- Doug.

Feel the treasures hiding
inside us, more:
between us, more:
among us

:- Doug.

The mystery is…mystery.

:- Doug.

I don’t tend broken seniors; elders have my heart.

:- Doug.

We must hear to see.

:- Doug.

Trying on garments
is young person’s work
dancing shoes
working suit and tie
cook’s apron; parent’s towel
expert’s demeanor; hider’s shadows
worshiper’s solemnity
bon vivant’s broad smile
But later when you’re seeking
your truth & wisdom
the way of this work is to peel layers

:- Doug.

First seek ecstasy—moving outside yourself
Then let that go & contemplate—sit in presence

:- Doug.

How could giving bring income?

:- Doug.

How could one person’s words matter?
Speak your words out of a fire at your center
A fire that builds up
Some will hear
This matters

:- Doug.

Hear one another well.

:- Doug.

Can you stitch
Energy unseen, plant,
Animal, and mind-stuff
Into one fabric?
The unseen
—The wind—
Touches my eyes
Touches my mind
First it makes the
Maple leaves dance
Then it bounces
Through my eyes to my
Imagination

:- Doug.

Footprints in the Wind^sm # 1157

What is in our American-human heart, the one out of which we grew? Welcoming the huddled masses, giving beyond generosity to those suffering disaster, defending your freedom to say that with which I would disagree, participating in our own government, making bountiful feast with the natives whose shores we have come to as displaced strangers, rolling up our sleeves to get needed jobs done, rolling back and creating new frontiers….

Please pass it on.

© c 2011, Learning Works, Incorporated. All rights reserved. Easy reprint permissions: 574/291-0022, or by e-mail to mailto:Doug AT FootprintsInTheWind.com. Back issues available at http://www.FootprintsintheWind.com

We did not create the whole
Yet to it we add

:- Doug.

Floating, held, are we
in something much larger
this we set a-spinning

:- Doug.

Oceans of water
Oceans of air
Oceans of tears
A-dancing
Washing our shores
Hear: we live

:- Doug.

Be the presence. Be presence. Whole is here.

:- Doug.

Sit next to the presence. Bring your whole, true self. All that’s needed is provided.

:- Doug.

We too are unbounded, our edges are leaky. We do not stop at our skins, if we simply would look at what’s in front of us.

We swim in a common sea, our words bring harvests of good and harvests of pain. Our breath comes from the plants and returns to them. Our eyes sometimes see the colors that enrich us. The breezes blow between and among us, and the tears of peoples far off start our eyes watering. We read and we write and our words reach out around the globe and through the ages. Where and when do we stop and others begin?

:- Doug.