Check out my new 'World Reflections" Section
Interesting stories and anecdotes that reach into insights I have gained abroad.
Healing Grief, On-line Course, by Terry Douglas.
You are invited to participate in an 8-
week, on-line course, entitled
Healing Grief Page that captures a journey of healing following deep loss.
Creativity
Posted on Thursday, October 30th, 2008
I wrote this poem as I contemplated change.
Creativity
There’s drone out there
Squelching imagination,
New directions,
Paths emerging –
Monotone dull that’s it,
Lacking inflection
Smothering passion;
Mandating repetition
In past illusions
Of colorless routine.
It’s time to stir awake
This sleeping soul
Who now limits excitement
To painted reflections
On a wall of spent youth.
Dismiss that protocol
Disguised as politeness
That binds us to a past,
Assumes all is known,
Abandons discovery.
Then each sunrise
Will blaze brilliant
Across a landscape
Not yet visited,
A horizon stretching wide.
Yes – you are invited
To question – seek clarity,
Challenge one’s fears direct,
Explore heart regions not visited,
Pursue solutions sought.
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Creativity
Posted on Thursday, October 30th, 2008
At the risk of sounding like a revolutionary, consider how you relate to creativity, especially as it concerns the authentic self that resides within.
Creativity
There’s drone out there
Squelching imagination,
New directions,
Paths emerging –
Monotone dull that’s it,
Lacking inflection
Smothering passion;
Mandating repetition
In past illusions
Of colorless routine.
It’s time to stir awake
This sleeping soul
Who now limits excitement
To painted reflections
On a wall of spent youth.
Dismiss that protocol
Disguised as politeness
That binds us to a past,
Assumes all is known,
Abandons discovery.
Then each sunrise
Will blaze brilliant
Across a landscape
Not yet visited,
A horizon stretching wide.
Yes – you are invited
To question – seek clarity,
Challenge one’s fears direct,
Explore heart regions not visited,
Pursue solutions sought.
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Yet to Pass
Posted on Tuesday, October 28th, 2008
The following poem I composed as I reflected on my life in India thirty-five years ago.
Yet to Pass
Years past I smoked
Madrasi cigars
Hand rolled by
Brown-skinned girls;
From tall dark bottles
With residue settling
Drank beer brewed by
A mischievous Jesuit;
Reclined in a seven-foot
Hot tub steaming
Tired muscles for
Competition next;
Lingered in conversation
Long into darkness,
Seeking communion,
If not enlightenment;
Rode polo ponies at dawn
Across withering fields,
Along jungle trails,
Wild monkey paths;
Trekked heaven’s domain
Amidst the Himalayas,
Drank from an ice cold green
Glacier stream long life;
Loved luxuriously,
Laughed endlessly,
Even cried in a present
That has yet to pass.
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There is a Time to Pray
Posted on Saturday, October 18th, 2008
There is a Time to Pray
Indeed there are times
When fire-burn sunrise
Turns gray even dark at dawn,
When wave sounds rush thick,
And ponderous are thoughts
Of past and future feints
That linger upon the heart;
This is a time for prayer,
To release groans that soundless
Capture meaning unspoken,
Without weight reach heights,
Plead for understanding.
Always answered in stillness
These heart petitions –
A dialogue of silence
That flows and swirls within,
Brushing clear all doubt confusion
Puzzlement – even fear.
There is a time to pray,
To acknowledge even if alone
The source of all love overflowing.
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Mystery of Love
Posted on Saturday, October 4th, 2008
One afternoon the words of the title came to mind and I was not satisfied until I paused and wrote this poem.
Mystery of Love
Yes I asked you
The mystery of love,
And you answered
Love is a mystery.
I thought you didn’t
Respond but then
I knew – not thought -
In your silence
Without words,
Love is certain
Assured unquestioned
Present not earned
It is spontaneous
So evident
And clear.
What’s the question?
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