Hope

Hope is a nest and wings. Hope is made of hollow bones, feathers, grass, song, and string. When fed, she is superb and strong. So go on, hold her in your long hands, and feed her from your tender beak. Bring her grubs, bread, and seeds.  Don't let her go hungry. Let her feast and feast. In a while, she will unfurl and fill the sky with courageous, creative, and colorful love. She will pull others from their dirt beds of despair. She will lead a flock. So throw her high - far past form and sound. There, she will become like light and air - expansive, open, and everywhere.  

And then you too will be free. 

Love is

Love is at the center of it all. 

It is the womb, the birthplace, the home, 

of everything. 

It is Divine, heavenly. 

It is common and ordinary. 

It is unique and authentic. 

It is the purest wisdom. 

Love.

First and foremost in every moment, love. 

Before the bully clock pushes you over, love. 

Before worry tightens you, love. 

Before anger hollers over you, love. 

Love, love, love... 

When you can move through the narrow passage of love, 

you will find yourself living in a wide, wild, open meadow of light and peace. 

Meet me there.