No Matter

No matter that I am a woman
and that makes me less than human in the eyes of some;
No matter that my story will go mostly untold.;
No matter that the stories
are all of men that surrounded Jesus;
No matter that the religious institutions
don’t allow women to teach;
No matter that the relationship
of greatest importance is not spoken of;

No matter for the truth
is written indelibly in the hearts of women
throughout all ages and all times.
No matter for the love of God
surpasses all prejudices, all history, and all slights.
No matter for the record stands in the heavens
as to the truth of All That Is.
No matter for day by day
our lives can testify to greater truths.

The Longing of the Heart

What is the longing of the heart?
Except to be known,
To be filled with love,
And to love?

What is the breadth of the spirit?
The heights to which it can soar?
The extent to which it can expand?

Infinite. Eternal.
Dying but to be reborn.
Ending but to begin again.
Ceaseless ebb and flow,
As the waves of the ocean.
Galaxies spinning into eternity.

Dance With Spirit

It is dark and all is quiet.
All I can hear is the beating of my own heart,
the quietness of my breath,
and a rustle of wind in the branches overhead.
I try to sit quietly
as I anticipate the arrival of the Beloved.
Beautiful thoughts of love
fill my mind and warm my heart
as I think of the joy that the Spirit brings.


There is a feeling of warmth
and then I am in the presence of the Divine.
Ah, my whole heart is filled.
The air is fragrant with the smell of summer.
Roses give off their scent as a gift.
All nature sighs with rapture
as a sense of oneness permeates everything.


Communion, intimacy, wholeness, and healing—
all are gifts brought and exchanged.
Devotion, love, warmth, and insight—
the intimate dance steps of Spirit and matter.
The breath of life is intermingled—
the mortal with the Divine.
Oh, I am loved,
nourished, cherished, and restored.

Listen With Ears That Have A Heart

Along the dusty footpaths we walk,
Past the craggy trees and windblown knolls.
Mystery stalks our path,
Unknown answers, untried ways.
Which direction will we turn?
Which pathways will we trod?

Destiny calls us to try something new,
Tradition beckons, ‘stay the course’.
Imagination tickles our nose,
Fear catches in our throat.
‘Hither, hither’ a whisper calls.
Hesitant, we wonder, ‘Do we go on?’

Fate has called us.
Our ancestors have prepared us.
Wisdom desires that we hear.
Nature cries out, hoping we respond.
‘Listen, Listen with ears that have a heart.’
‘Listen. Listen with ears that have a heart.’

The Sanctuary of Silence

The dusk settles like a shroud under the willow trees.

Listening, I nestle into the silence, covered as by a warm blanket.
In the quiet a symphony plays, it is the music of my soul.

Hushed, I dare to breathe lest I miss a note of its beauty.
Hovering, the wind whispers in my ear.
Dew kisses my cheeks and the wet grass washes my travel worn feet.

The silence sings in harmony, one note in tune with another.
Images, like birds glide and dive before my eyes.
Mystery unfolds like an ancient rite, and I am breathless,
Taken in wonder at the dance of the Eternal.

The Soul's Longing

A sweet fragrance wafts through the door of my heart,
Calling me, enticing me to investigate.

What messages of beauty are there for me?
Beguiling, seducing me with mystery?

Angelic, heavenly, Spirit-filled longing,
Windows into the portals of infinity.

Lovely, fragrant, eternal, growing—
A seed dies bursting into expansiveness.

My soul grows into a sense of knowing
There is so much more yet to be.

Letting Go

It seems that to move forward,
one always has to be letting go.
Letting go of old ideas,
old limitations,
old ways of thinking,
old ways of feeling,
old ways of being.

Letting go of stuff, things, possessions.
Clearing out. Spring cleaning.
Dusting off.
Putting away.
Moving beyond.

At the same time,
honoring all that has been,
holding nothing in resentment,
forgiving, releasing.

Like the ocean waves
with their rhythm and tides,
moving in and moving out.