Elemental Staircase

It's been a long climb up the staircase
Leaving the perils of nature behind
We no longer suffer the cold or the dark
Nor need fear the predator's teeth

We've come a long way from our past
We've abandoned our rough pagan ways
Divorced from the need for pure faith
We listen when scientists speak

But what have we left by the wayside?
What pleasures are now beyond reach?
Can we still see that God is beside us?
Can we still hear the truth in a breeze?

Yes, the climb here has served us well
Brought us comfort and riches and ease
Yet so often we find ourselves reaching
For the life of our long ago days

Still, the staircase we mounted remains
It can serve in a different way
Remembering such structures stretch both up and down
We can reclaim the truths at its base

Copyright © 2010 Mary Beth Watt. All rights reserved.

Varieties

Today I went through some of the writings that have been shared during the morning meditation calls I participate in when I have a chance. I'll share another poem of mine here, and follow with others in the next few days. But I would like to recommend another poetry blog written by another participant in our meditations. The poet is Anna Grossnnickle Hines, who also writes books for children. You can find her blog at www.aghines.blogspot.com.

Now, here is my poem for the day.

Varieties

Stones under my feet

Infinite variety of color, coarseness, texture

Some so hard we cannot break them

Some so soft they crumble beneath our step

Flowers in our gardens

Blossoms of endless beauty, season, tenure

Bright gaudy elegance in autumn

Sweet-scented pastel peace in spring

Animals walking with us

So different from each other and from us

Only strong lenses let us see the smallest

Yet the strength and size of others makes us small

Our world is made of wonders beyond knowing -

Rocks and blooms and beasts each with their place

May we celebrate our own place here amongst them

And honor the wide varieties of man

Copyright (c) 2010 Mary Beth Watt. All rights reserved.

Paradox

I cannot tell a truth
As pure as the truth of a rose
All of the words that I know
Would fall far short of its beauty

I cannot define a limit
To the life of a deepening forest
Nor can I speak with the breath
Of a glistening mountain lake

Yet I do not stand outside
Of the truth or the breath or the beauty
For in nature is held in full
The essence of all that I am

Copyright © 2010 Mary Beth Watt. All rights reserved.