Abundant Gifts

Pink Cosmos Flower Close Up by criminalatt courtesy of www.FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Pink Cosmos Flower Close Up by criminalatt courtesy of http://www.FreeDigitalPhotos.net

To speak of the beauty of a flower

swaying in a breeze

is to breathe the essence

of everything I think I am.

To wonder at a branch

adorned with buds

is to recognise hope

proffered by the future.

To stop and marvel,

be thankful for all that is

must be my goal.

Forgetting ego,

diminishing others’ judgements

… save for those I love.

© mypastmademe.com 2014

A glittering prize …

Frosty Morning by Simon Howden/FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Walking along today in the crisp winter sunshine I was struck by how beautiful the frost looked on the ground.  Just plain old frost.  You see it in white patches, smeared across the ground like winter’s warning, and you’re wary of slipping on it … but today it was such a lovely day and so it was thawing quickly … the sky was azure blue, the trees still and everything just felt amazingly calm and peaceful, so I was already a bit loved up with Mother Nature.

But what took my breath away was looking down to see a spread of frost on the ground which had part thawed and literally just looked like someone had sprinkled glitter right across the pavement.  Sparkling, iridescent, gorgeous glitter.  I stopped and stared in wonder.  So beautiful …

I used to go through life rush rush rushing, too much to do, failing at too many things, stress stress stressing.  How I love these days, these times when I actually notice the world around me and can appreciate the beauty which, before now, I was too self-absorbed to see.

May you stay warm and safe this winter, and hopefully have time to stop and appreciate the simple gifts on offer in your surroundings.

🙂

 

White Snow, Black Heart

Berry Snow Heart by Tina Phillips/FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Mirror, mirror on the wall

  who is the ugliest one of all?

I am.

For all the times

  my mouth has released words

  that should have remained caged

For the hours, days, months

  when I wallowed, weakened,

  lost myself

  Drowned.

For the moments

  when I can’t see or hear others

  because I’m too absorbed with myself

For all the things

  I still have not corrected

I am.

˜˜˜

Mirror, mirror on the wall

  who is the most beautiful one of all?

I am.

For all the times

  I have found the strength to smile

  while my heart was breaking

For the hours, days, months

  that I know I suffered

  and survived

  Swam.

For the moments

  when I am not oblivious to the beauty in this world

  Trees.  Flowers.  Birdsong.

For all the things

  that I am and know I can be

I am.

© www.mypastmademe.com 2011

Age beautifies …

I found solace in the old gardens today.  Walking round, the cold air wrapping me in calmness, I started to feel like me again.  The stress washed away as my gaze fell upon bunched daffodils and scattered snowdrops, the budding plants, with the earth soft beneath my feet.

I was drawn to a spray of trees right in the middle of the garden, lining a path like guards.  They must have been trained once upon a time, each bearing a horizontal branch to the left and another to the right with smaller branches springing upwards from them.

The trees looked tired and worn, as though they had spent years stretching their arms skyward, pleading for some sunshine, yearning for their lost youth.  Yet it was the magnificence of their age – their gnarled beauty and non conformed shape – that held my interest.

The saplings nearby, as beautiful and hopeful as they were, paled in comparison.  They had no history, no wisdom … but I know that those old trees, if they could speak, would tell me countless stories.  They encapsulate beauty of a different kind …