If Jesus hadn’t come
as a naked babe,
I wouldn’t know God’s humility,
tenderness and vulnerability.

If Mary hadn’t said yes,
I wouldn’t have known my savior.
If Joseph hadn’t listened to his dreams,
I wouldn’t take mine seriously.

If the shepherds hadn’t paid homage,
I wouldn’t know how to bow down.
If the wise men hadn’t followed the star,
I wouldn’t know God’s universality.

If Jesus hadn’t slept peacefully,
I wouldn’t know true trust.
If he hadn’t nursed at Mary’s breast,
I wouldn’t know the milk of human kindness.

If Jesus hadn’t been born,
I wouldn’t know my true worth.
If he hadn’t lived,
I wouldn’t know how Love leads a life.

If Jesus hadn’t died,
I wouldn’t understand surrender.
And if he hadn’t risen from the grave,
I wouldn’t be re-born.

by
Maura Kennedy

Each New Day

Even though there is much to fear in this world, no one will rob me of each new day. My dog doesn't need a clock to know when each new day arrives. He stands at the side of my bed and when I feel his presence and his breathing, I slowly open my eyes. "It's a new day," he says through excited eyes and a wagging tail. Come on, let's see what it holds. I have to get out in that back yard and check out things that might have happened during the night. Perhaps you'll play ball with me. You never can tell what is going to happen, but it's got to be good!" He thinks only fun will come today. He has no doubts or fears about the hours ahead. When I look at his eager expression, I begin to think so too.
The two cats soon follow. They softly creep about my bed, traveling slowly to my shoulders and stare into my eyes. "So, how about it?" they seem to say. "Come on, get up! We're hungry."
Cats carry a silent wisdom. They will cope with whatever the day brings. They immediately sit on the window ledge to observe the arriving dawn. After breakfast, they nap. Their easiness always brings a smile to my face. In the kitchen, even my parakeet says hello! "I'm singing to brighten the morning," she seems to say. It can't be a bad day if you have a song, I think. So, I hum as I feed the animals.
When I look outside, I see a stray cat sitting on the porch couch looking up at me, waiting. "Good morning," he nods, his expression telling me, "I've been out here all night guarding the house, waiting for the new day. So you have nothing to worry about with me out here. I can't wait to see what adventures are before me. Do you have anything good to eat?" I do not disappoint the expectation in his eyes and deliver him a hearty breakfast. Watching the cat devour it, gives me an appetite for my own first meal of the new day.

As I stand there, the sun opens up and splashes across the street. "Nothing can stop me unless I let it, " it speaks to me through its light. "Let my light chase away your darkness and fear." I rush inside to get dressed determined that no one or nothing will rob me of this day! (paraphrase - Harriet Savitz)

Trick or Treat

Halloween

Little ghost and goblins

knocking at my door

Think they're fooling me

but I've seen them before

Little people wearing masks

to cover up their faces

If I don't give them goodies,

they'll take me through their paces

I don't think they'd harm me

as they say they would

They're only little people

who are really good

Wouldn't it be funny

if they arrived at my door

Wearing little signs that said,

"Please love us some more."

Are they like the rest of us

pretending to be different

Afraid of uncovering

what is really there?
We all go through the paces,

covering up our faces

Wearing masks and never really saying

that we are only playing

We are all like the little people

coming to my door

Pretending to be scary

When all they really want

is for us to love them more!

(MK)

Wholeness

I joyfully recognize and realize my wholeness.

Through creative thought,

I become what I think and I perceive what I believe.

I am radiantly whole, healthy, loving, wise,

prosperous and full of joy.

(".....be made new by the renewal of your mind

and put on the new self." Ephesians 4: 23 & 24)

How My Art Evolves

My art comes from my inner landscape, as described in Peter London's book, "No More Secondhand Art (Awakening the Artist Within)". Sometimes I have a concept in my mind and heart, like "steadfastness", "fun", or "autumn". I let my hands lead and the markers follow. The theory behind this is:"the hands know before the head what you want to express." I do a complete outline of the shapes first, then color them in, usually choosing them at random, unless I want to express a theme like Irish, a holiday, or such. I never know what I will draw; it is spontaneous. This is why it takes some observing to "see" the pictures. I also draw cartoons and simple travel pictures that I keep in a journal.

A Ritual to Read to Each Other

If you don't know the kind of person I am,

and I don't know the kind of person you are,

a pattern that others made may prevail in the world.

And following the wrong god home,

we may miss our star.

For there is many a small betrayal in the mind,

a shrug that lets the fragile sequence break,

sending with shouts the horrible errors

of childhood storming out to play

through the broken dyke.

I call it cruel and maybe the root of all cruelty -

to know what occurs and not recognize the fact.

An so I appeal to a voice - to something shadowy,

a remote region in all who talk: though we could

fool each other, we should consider -

least the parade of our mutual life

gets lost in the dark.

For it is important that awake people be awake or

a breaking line may discourage them back to sleep;

the signals we give - yes, no, or maybe -

should be clear; the darkness around us is deep.

(William Stafford)

Say It With Flowers

(Sea Girt, NJ boardwalk -2010)

Lord, I do fear

Thou'st made the world far too beautiful this year.

My soul is all but out of me.

I will be the gladdest thing under the sun for

I will touch a hundred flowers

and not pick one.

(Edna St. Vincent Millay)

Remembering 9/11/2001

This cross stood at Ground Zero

right after 9/11.

May we never forget.

Walking and pondering along the Sea Girt boardwalk

"I often think our paths are not made too clear, but that circumstances guide us. We modify our lives to the doors that actually open or close. It almost seems that we have no choice but to go in a certain direction even though we go blindly, not always knowing if this is God's will for us. It's a matter of trying to stay close to God no matter the circumstances." (by cousin Norma Grande.)

My input: Initially there may be some resistance to where our circumstances bring us, but eventually, as we live out our path, there is an inner rightness that we should feel. If we feel great doubt and inner turmoil, it's time to re-think our path! MK

Wisdom from William

The tension between contraries is what

makes us ourselves.

We have not just one, but the other too,

mixing and chasing

and sparking inside us.

Not just light, but dark. Not just peace, but at war.

Not just innocent, but experienced.

(William Blake)

Natural Bridge, VA.

It is a glorious thing to see and admire so marvelous a creation of Nature. How much more it means when associated with tradition, history and romance. The birth of Natural Bridge is hidden away in the realms of distant geologic ages. As a "document" of early American history, it antedates the origin of our nation by millions of years. This sacred and venerable arch bears the imprint of George Washington, father of the USA. Possessed by Thomas Jefferson, author of the Declaration of Independence, viewed by the founders of our Nation, it is indeed an American landmark which reflects in its proud and lofty reaches the stability of a great country and the limitless future which lies beyond. (from "The Story of Natural Bridge of Virginia)

Otherworld

Directions to Otherworld

Through a Gate

Then an open door

Ride faith like a wave

Beyond the shadow self

Through a black hole

Into emptiness

Then silence

Toward Light

To inner landscape

Images, colors, sounds

Heavenly pleasures

Beyond expectancy

To Presence there

Freedom, deep reality

Stay awhile

BE.

(MK)

Alice Marie

Chance encounter

Close encounter

Spirit wings

Keep connection

Beautiful soul

Precious girl

Gentle woman

Always there

Buildings fall

Fire rages

Lights extinguished

Angel still aware.

(I met Alice Marie in the late 1990s. After she moved to NYC, we had a date to meet and then 911 happened. We kept our date anyway, and it was sweet. This is the poem I wrote after our visit.
Our lights did not go out. And the beams at WTC every 911 still glow until rebuilt. ) by Magic Maura

A Lake Near My Home

I'd rather be a lake than an ocean.

I like boundaries I can see and shores of grassy earth to lap at.

A lake can count the swans, ducks and gulls that choose her company.

Trees dare to root close by, while they back off from the inhospitable sea.

A lake can whip up a stormy tantrum if it pleases,
but it seldom holds an engulfing grudge.

It can be still enough to grab and hold every color

around and show it as its own.

Mirrors are not so shallow when you think how they

double the beauties of the world.

Oceans reflect only their own dark depths,except when the moon sends

a search light down to show off pulsing surface.

Oh, I can hear you saying: "A lake is just a big puddle, here today,

dried up tomorrow, mushy, bland, dependent.

You should want to be powerful, passionate, full of

fury and fantasy, elemental and infinite."

Yes, I did want that once, but now I see my boundaries

and find a curious peace in practicing being very, very still.

(by Sally Whitman)

(picture by Magic Maura)

The Grandchildren in Hawaii

The earth is a fascinating place,

so very full of wonders.

God has given us paradise,

here on earth.

It is truly a garden,

so beautiful to see.

Yet we look away and search

for other, better worlds.

If only we could collectively realize

that we are the problem.

If we could be free

of seeking weath and power,

we could marvel at

and enjoy our own earth;

God's gift to us.

(Maura Madigan Kennedy)

The Old House

I have been writing a memoir of my childhood, many years of which were spend in this house in Lynbrook, Long Island. There's an Irish song that comes to mind now when I think of :

"The Old House"

Lonely I wander through scenes of my childhood,

Memory the happy days of yore brought back.

Gone now the old folk, the house stands deserted,

No light in the window, no welcome at the door.

Here's where the children played games on the heather,

That's where they paddled their boats on the barren.

Where are they now?

Some are dead, some have wandered.

No more to these homes will the children come.

Lonely the house now and lonely the moorland.

The children have vanished, the old folks are gone.

Why stand I here like a ghost and a shadow?

It's time I stopped crying, it's time I moved on.

My grandbaby knows a secret.

Linger awhile in quiet places.

For Art's Sake

Time is always there, so use it!

There is no tomorrow when it comes to your art.

Temptation is all around: shopping, visiting,

chatting with friends, watching TV,

sitting in the sun - it's endless.

Never, never give it up!

Enjoy your art and don't confuse

achievement with success.

Even if you never made a penny from it,

you will still have the incomparable satisfaction

of having created a world no one else could have and

filled it with the product of your own imagination.

Savor this knowledge.

Revel in it.

This is the reality of achievement.

(anon)

To Have a Really Good Day

"One ought, every day at least,

hear a little song,

read a good poem,

see a fine picture,

and if possible,

speak a few reasonable words."

(JW Von Goethe)

Gentle Woman

Gentle woman

Quiet light

Morning Star

So strong and bright

Gentle woman

Peaceful dove

Give us wisdom

Give us Love.

(from the song)

Love After Love

The time will come

When, with elation

You will greet yourself arriving

At your own door, in your own mirror

And each will smile at the other's welcome

You will love again the stranger who was yourself,

Who knows you by heart.

And say, sit here. Eat. Give wine. Give bread.

Give back your heart to itself, to the stranger

Who has loved you all your life,

Who you ignored for another.

Take down the letters from the bookshelf,

The photographs, the desperate notes,

Peel your own image from the mirror.

Sit, feast on your life.

(Derek Walcott)

Troubles?

The "tree of troubles" may

cast its shadow

upon your life,

but it cannot block the beauty

that lies beyond

if only you will believe.

Through a Glass Brightly

"The broken pieces of our plans
The fragments of our hope
Acquire a perfect symmetry
Through time's kaleidoscope."

(Phyllis Cochrane)

Light over Darkness

"I saw that there was an ocean of darkness and death but an infinite ocean of light and love flowed over the ocean of darkness" George Fox

Poetry from the Woods

Many trees, each unique:

strong, weak, short, tall,
some old and falling down.

Trunks, leaves, branches:

some falling off,

still bleeding.

Roots exposed:

some poking sprouts struggling

against the wound of the ax.

Some sprouts will grow:

reaching toward the sky

living, breathing, free.

Growing upward

yet connected to the earth

close to their roots.

My profile picture is one I drew in an art workshop of "inner landscapes". I chose it because it represents my blog,

"Spirit Alive".