Drops of Color/ And…for the next performance

Drops of Color
And…for the next performance

—waiting with wonder.

The wand…was it the wand,
its wave,
or the hand?

Was it the spell
spoken aloud?

I ‘believed’ the furry
little fluffy-tailed creature
would appear out of that hat.

So simple…so magical!

When I was a child,
I thought everything could
be solved by a wave of a
wand, the passing of  a hand,
a verse spoken aloud.

Quickly, I learned
it was a staged performance.

Life is not an act
yet, our actions
allow us the ability
to choose the parts we
shall LIVE out.

Many times now, in the
growing later years of 
my life,
I have drawn the curtains
—not to close out the audience,
but to invite in a
Source who bids me to
sit awhile and listen.

The hushed space is
beyond any magical
notion.  All concerns sit
on the shoreline,
and I plunge into the 

All my questions become
the drops in which I swim
—an enormous ocean
I am in, I am.

When I set my feet
on land,
stillness and movement
prayer and action unite.

How can I help you,
Source of Life?

Suddenly, a creature lifted
its delicate ears.

Hearing my voice,
it was not afraid.

I watched it nibble
the lanky grasses—
green, juicy
—it took in each blade
with sheer delight.

—in fellowship we live this life.
In harmony,
the community is the sun, the stars,
the trees, the rivers,
the desert sand, the Artic icebergs,
the winged-beings and four-legged
creatures, the two-legged persons…
all varieties of colors, genders,
beliefs, faith traditions.
I could go on and on
or maybe

I’ll take off this hat,
put down this wand splashing
ink on this page,
and I will pull a blade of
grass from its root,
place it between my lips,
and hop a while with
my community—

what a wonderful life.



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