Requiem
Posted: May 8, 2014 Filed under: Meditation, Yoga | Tags: Abigail Gramig, blogging, compassion, cultfit, freshly pressed, happiness, health, hope, kindness, life, love, meditation, motivation, musings, natural, Omaha, Poetry, Prose, Requiem, simplicity, smile, Smiling, Today, Zen 7 Comments…
Today
is the
perfect day
The sky
just so
clouds moving
fast
Drops of water
on leaves
of Russian sage
Dog sitting
her chin
on crossed paws
Light streams
through branches
of locust tree
I sit
just so
at the
small table
…
Everything is
perfect
just like this
you would have said
– Abigail Gramig – Dusting the Piano –
The Widow’s Lament in Springtime
Posted: April 10, 2014 Filed under: Meditation, Yoga | Tags: Ahimsa, compassion, Grief, health, kindness, life, love, marriage, meditation, Omaha, Poetry, Prose, Spirituality, William Carlos Williams 1 Comment…
Sorrow is my own yard
where the new grass
flames as it has flamed
often before but not
with the cold fire
that closes round me this year.
Thirtyfive years
I lived with my husband.
The plumtree is white today
with masses of flowers.
Masses of flowers
load the cherry branches
and color some bushes
yellow and some red
but the grief in my heart
is stronger than they
for though they were my joy
formerly, today I notice them
and turn away forgetting.
Today my son told me
that in the meadows,
at the edge of the heavy woods
in the distance, he saw
trees of white flowers.
I feel that I would like
to go there
and fall into those flowers
and sink into the marsh near them.
Boy at the Window
Posted: March 6, 2014 Filed under: Meditation, Yoga | Tags: blogging, Buddhism, compassion, exercise, family, fitness, free range, freshly pressed, gluten free, happiness, health, hipster, hope, life, love, lululemon, marathon, Media, meditation, Mindfulness, motivation, musings, natural, nature, Omaha, paleo, passion, perspective, pilates, Poetry, Prose, Richard Wilbur, running, trail running, walking, winter, yoga, youth Leave a comment…
Seeing the snowman standing all alone
In dusk and cold is more than he can bear.
The small boy weeps to hear the wind prepare
A night of gnashings and enormous moan.
His tearful sight can hardly reach to where
The pale-faced figure with bitumen eyes
Returns him such a god-forsaken stare
As outcast Adam gave to Paradise.
The man of snow is, nonetheless, content,
Having no wish to go inside and die.
Still, he is moved to see the youngster cry.
Though frozen water is his element,
He melts enough to drop from one soft eye
A trickle of the purest rain, a tear
For the child at the bright pane surrounded by
Such warmth, such light, such love, and so much fear.
No. 6
Posted: February 21, 2014 Filed under: Meditation, Yoga | Tags: blogging, Charles Bukowski, compassion, exercise, family, flowers, freshly pressed, friends, happiness, health, hope, kindness, life, love, musings, nature, Omaha, passion, Poetry, Prose, writing, yoga 3 Comments…
I’ll settle for the 6 horse
on a rainy afternoon
a paper cup of coffee
in my hand
a little way to go,
the wind twirling out
small wrens from
the upper grandstand roof,
the jocks coming out
for a middle race
silent
and the easy rain making
everything
at once
almost alike,
the horses at peace with
each other
before the drunken war
and I am under the grandstand
feeling for
cigarettes
settling for coffee,
then the horses walk by
taking their little men
away-
it is funereal and graceful
and glad
like the opening
of flowers.
Great Plains
Posted: February 6, 2014 Filed under: Meditation, Yoga | Tags: Bliss, blogging, Buddha, compassion, cycling, exercise, family, fitness, freshly pressed, friends, Great Plains, happiness, health, hipster, hope, kindness, life, love, lululemon, marathon, meditation, motivation, musings, natural, nature, Omaha, paleo, passion, perspective, pilates, Poetry, Prose, running, trail running, whole foods, writing, yoga, Zen 3 Comments…
I could drive for days without fear
of outrunning these patchwork clouds,
bridge lines of cumulus
this way or that towards the horizon,
midway between one place
and another, standing up
to the administrations of wind.
I like a destination which pulls
true, deliberate,
but at great distance. Like
I like the slow, imperceptible
progress of knowing
but not knowing
how far I’ll travel today,
where I’ll find gas
for the next leg
or when.
CultFit 