natural healing

finding time to sit
within the arms of nature
silently restores

softly renewing
breath slows down, hope rises up
to meet beauty now

healing happens when
quiet joys spurt smiles, passion
with the simplest things

mountains clad with snow
serenity swings high and low
sitting in awe's grace

Kate Lamberg
11/14/11

silence

In the attitude of silence the soul finds the path in a clearer light, and what is elusive and deceptive resolves itself into crystal clearness. 
Mahatma Gandhi


silence wraps around the porch
with a limitless view of the ocean
sends no person running

resting in the silence
one discovers soulscripts
those clear lines of grace

an attitude of silence
transcends the need
for perfect quiet

as sails are hoisted upwards
towards the morning sun-
as waves creep, mellow at low tide

as southwesterlies do not hide
their persistences, in the wake-
fulness of the dawn

Kate Lamberg
11/10/11

polish

"Everyone sees the unseen in proportion to the clarity of his heart, and that depends upon how much he has polished it. Whoever has polished it more sees more - more unseen forms become manifest to him." ~ Rumi


seeing appears when
we do not look for anything,
bursting from the inside

how clear one's heart-
is immeasurable, either full,
or getting there

even upon a polished heart
dust falls after sleeping in,
then finds its shine again

what was dormant comes alive
as sure as faeries appear,
slipping out from water's edge

Kate Lamberg

11/10/11

world collapsing and opening

“Whenever the dialogue stops, the world collapses and extraordinary facets of ourselves surface, as though they have been kept heavily guarded by our words." ~ Carlos Castaneda


friend, i reach to you in quiet threads,
lightly brushing oak floors with a gentle
curvature, drawn as spiral

sweeping in towards
the center of my being
hearing the sounds of my own aches

creaking upon the uneven floor boards
the unceasing drip of water in the soaking pot
the relentless whir of the refrigerator

one moment, sidestepping the world-chatter
chooses a silence, as if it matters-
as if anyone cares for silence

in its devious ways of opening up
the crenshaw melon; exposing the seeds,
the soft sweet vulnerable flesh inside

Kate Lamberg
11/8/11

oak leaves

"My watch lies among the oak leaves. My tee shirt hangs on the barbed wire fence, and the wind sings in the bare wood."--Thomas Merton, November, 1958.


for Thomas

watches stay at home, when pressing on
to find the sterling being, residing in the one

silken blouses, pants that need extra care
are left by the riverside, when immersion

finds one needing less, to float
more easily; grace descends

the point of entry, never leaving
light rises at the thought of nothing

breathing wonder wakes the forest
squirrels sent scurrying

shakti meets with shiva
at the river of realization

rocking out the river
dreams peal easily off the micaed granite

sitting upon flat blue river stone
oak leaves fall on their own

travel both up stream
and down to mountain's source

magic paints peppermint sticks rubbing
the cooling effervescence melding

with the sharp contrasts shown in light:
knowing who to carry and who to leave,

knowing when to tarry and when to travel
we bid fair adieu to a life always leaving,

in order to embrace a life looming

as high as a starling sings
and as long as a oak tree bears leaves

Kate Lamberg
11/8/11

beyond the beyond

wanting to reach beyond the pond
she tumbled and fell into the murky
green water, full of swans, ducks
algae, three feet thick, trying
to strangle the determined swimmer

she swam a breast stroke to make her parents proud
she nose dove away from impending dangers,
remnants of dead swan babies, killed on contact
from hungry geese, landing upon foreign soil

she was swimming for her own life, as she neared
the other shore, promising rest and solitude
a stroke of peace between the currents
seemingly against her stamina, and sweet soul

there is finality in action, she once wrote
so many years ago; moving with a problem
as opposed to sitting dreamily beneath a tree
she finally made it to the other side, breathless

she stepped upon the mossy soil, roots exposed
from a hundred year old silver beech tree-
electric green sea weed clinging to her arms and legs,
pond water dripping, feeding the moss beneath her feet

ducks clamoring, in twos, towards the beech tree
singing, "she is free from the perilous pond"
falling, she rests her head upon the beech-
resting within the music, she becomes her own song

Kate Lamberg
11/7/11

fulfillment

Occasionally in life there are those moments of unutterable fulfillment which cannot be completely explained by those symbols called words. Their meanings can only be articulated by the inaudible language of the heart. ~ Martin Luther King, Jr.


sweet kittens scratching
waking up dreaming mother
forgiveness over coffee

cool air paints promise
clean white, light blue sky dancing
saturday's bright joy

Kate Lamberg
11/5/11