Inhabiting My Repleteness

Image courtesy of Skitterphoto.

 

Today I am replete.

 

A regular Sunday. No distinguishing features.

 

My body is tired. The sky bleak. The road in

front of my house a darker grey where the

rain is yet to evaporate.

 

I am at home.

Just me and my cat. Him

asleep in a different room.

 

Alone in the quiet and

stillness of my kitchen with its

high-ceiling and patchy walls,

I am replete.

 

There is the warmth of the

kerosene stove at my back, the

solid weight of my mug glazed

the dark blue-black of night filled

with hojicha in my hand.

 

My back to the washing

machine, I see before me

two tall vases of flowers. The

yellow lilies I bought in celebration

of spring fading now; the two-

tone carnations and purple

heather still holding their

own. Above a picture painted

in rich and beautiful colors by my

friend, an incredible artist.

 

All around and in the air the

sounds of silence: the windows gently

murmuring as the wind rocks

them in their frames, the kettle on

the kerosene stove humming

along, the background undertone of

the fridge.

 

A hint of rain in the air

even now, and the song of

the Universe in my ears.

 

All is still.

 

All is replete with beauty.

 

It seems that – in this moment –

everything is perfect.

 

Perhaps it is.

 

There are lands afar and vistas

of beauty I want to lose myself

in; sacred connection and partnership

I’m eager to experience; dreams

and visions bubbling up to be

born through me.

 

So much that still wants to be expressed.

 

So much still to experience.

 

So much joy, love, beauty,

pleasure, majesty, awe

to encounter anew.

 

And yet…

 

In this moment as I sit, quietly

and fully inhabiting this space

of  deep-seated presence, I’m

Whole and Complete.

 

I feel the pulse of Life

beating in my heart, connecting

me to the awareness of all

that is good in my life. I feel

my connection with something

beyond what can be seen with the

eyes or perceived with the mind – it

fills me with a deep-rooted peace.

 

Connects me to the heart of

Silence and All That Is.

 

 

 

Featured image courtesy of Skitterphoto.

The painting mentioned in the poem courtesy of Rozanne Henry‘s Etsy Store.