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Amongst the Trees

As I sit

Amongst the trees

I am reminded that

Some of us are evergreen,

Our outer layers

Seemingly unchanged

Through harsh winter's bite.

Others are deciduous...

When the seasons change

And conditions are 

Less than favourable,

We feel it,

We shed our withered leaves,

We fade and fall back.

And what remains is

Laid bare and exposed,

So vulnerable

Yet, perhaps, a quiet dignity abides.

In times of darkness,

We deciduous folk,

We focus down to our roots.

We conserve what energy we have

Ready to emerge with new growth

When we feel the first light of spring.

What a shock

It must be

To learn that one is deciduous,

Having rested with the laurels, (so hardy!)

To see the pines and holly without folly.

To feel autumn, 

As leaves leave,

And winter

As if all is lost.

And then relief of spring! 

To know

That one can endure the seasons,

This time, at least!

Each year a wisdom 

and a confidence,

grows...

This too will pass.

Those old oaks

Told me it would be so.

It was hard to hear them,

But when I really listened,

Deep down in my roots,

I knew my place

Amongst the trees.

By Peter Morgan 

Tags: Resilience, impermanence, letting go

 Post Date: May 2020

On Hold

Please wait

You are on hold…..

Music….

Please wait

We are all on hold.

The tinny music of a great suite

Earwigs through your head. 

You even sing it

Der der der . d der der de der

A bit expressionless like the music

‘I know why I am singing this 

I’m on hold’.

Holding on

for grim death

Or not. 

Hiding in houses

Self-isolated. 

Waiting

For

IT

To 

Stop 

Stop taking hold.

You came home to the old ones.

On hold.

Corona stopped you dead

In your tracks.

No! 

Alive in your tracks

In the middle of your life.

Stay Safe Stay Home.

Hold on ….You are running up that hill

Run, rabbit run rabbit, run, run, run.

Meanwhile you, on hold,

Sofa surf, seek out oldies….

Retrograde….

Meanwhile You, on hold,

Work from home, work out,

Teach blackbirds to whistle On-hold loops.

Meanwhile You, on hold

Like the mountains

beyond the Menai straits,

Disappear and Reappear. 

Like the breath

Coming and going.

Staying safe, staying home.

Meanwhile we, hold on

To holding each other 

in our hearts. 

By Annee Griffiths

Tags: Pause, safety, holding

Post Date: April 2020

Together

Our minds and hearts can forget.

That there are seasons to all things.

This too shall pass.

This too shall pass. 

In the dawn beyond,

Like our animal cousins 

after hibernation, 

we will emerge with half-opened eyes.

And we will see everything again 

For the first time.

The sun will rise, and as 

We walk out into a new world, 

Our tired bodies will collectively groan 

In appreciation of a first, wide stretch!

And there will be rejoicing, and loss. 

And regrets. And love. 

And grief. And fear. And hope. 

The tides continue to turn, and 

The world will weep with us as we dance in the light of each new moon.

This too shall pass. 

This too shall pass. 

And as the seasons roll on, 

We will forever hold in our hearts, 

All that was sacred to us

In the time we were so apart,

Together.

By Peter Morgan

Tags: Seasons, impermanence, healing

Post Date: March 2020

Feeling Frantic in a Peaceful World

All around me is still.

But not I.

I vibrate,

I pulsate.

Out of control

The more I spiral

The worse I feel.

I am the storm.

The quiet streets

Only serve to amplify

The indignity

Of being

Frantic in a peaceful world.

I fear my panic might spread!

Cast me aside,

I am not what the world needs

Right now.

~~

A momentary connection

To my feet

Comes as an unexpected,

but welcome,

Reminder.

A hint to what lies beneath.

How can I best meet myself

In this tumultuous moment of being?

Maybe, I can 

Embrace this place.

It is here. 

Let me feel it.

If I allow my shoulders to drop

And let my breath breathe,

As best it is able.

Perhaps then there is space

For my energy to dissipate.

My heart palpitating,

I glance up,

As if my tired eyes

Have opened for the first time.

Through the window,

I see two pigeons,

Statue still,

Casually surveying the world.

Perhaps I too can sit

And take in what is around me

And my inner rhythm

Will synchronise

With the sights before my eyes.

A sigh.

A pause.

I see through pigeon eyes.

Like a snow-globe,

Once shook now still,

My inner flurry

Drifts down to my feet

And settles on the ground.

By Peter Morgan

Tags: Frantic, peace, grounding

Post Date: March 2020

This Long Night

Now is the time.

The time to let go 

Of panicking about panicking. 

To put down that self criticism 

That you should somehow

be better prepared, 

or more resilient.

In this shared messiness 

That is this human existence, 

Hold your head up.

Be here, 

Just as you are. 

You are

enough.

The doubt, 

The fear, 

The panic, 

The despair, 

The pain, 

The exhaustion, 

The guilt or shame. 

Lay them a place at the table

so that they might be heard.

Yet know you are not them, 

and they not you. 

Feel your feet. 

Feel the ground.

Feel the ground through your feet.

Feel grounded.

Let the weight on your shoulders flow down

through your feet 

and be held by the Earth.

Take one step at a time. 

And tread lightly.

Through

This, long, night.

By Peter Morgan

Tags: Acceptance, humanity, grounding

Post Date: March 2020

Social Distancing (Haiku)

Hearts beat together

Whilst our bodies are apart.

We are not alone.

By Peter Morgan

Tags: Connection, heart

Post Date: March 2020

No Longer Negotiating

In my worry about the future, about what will happen to him

After I am gone. . . I see his face, smiling quietly

As he looks at the newspaper. What does it matter

What will happen then? This is now, and he is beautiful.

No need for words. In this instant, he is safe, loved.

In my sinking into thoughts I sometimes come up for air

Sitting still, watching this breath, my belly gently heaving.

Every yesterday gets canned just then. Every care

Blown away. And at that moment, here is life, believing

in that, every other good is served up on a plate.

No need to bargain for my position. No need to curl myself

Into a cocoon, seeking approval, avoiding hate

A break from the past. A blessing here and now, a boon.

No longer hurrying into a future where I may be late.

By Sreela

Tags: Impermanence, present, love

Post Date: August 2019

Bluebell Lane

This corner of old England

Dappled in hazy spring sunshine

Old houses with tales to tell 

Sagging walls on a pot-bellied shed 

Topped with a shag pile moss roof 

Gnarled, arthritic twisted trees 

Gently swaying, leaves whispering 

In a warm undulating breeze 

And dancing bumble bees

Dusting the nodding flowers

With yellow pollen knees

Children sitting on the grass

Making daisy chains for Mother

A gift worth more than gold

Made with care, from love 

Lost in worlds we once knew 

But have misplaced somehow 

Perhaps to find again.... one day 

If we can find the time to stop

By Paul Brown

Tags: Nature, being present, simplicity

Post Date: March 2019

The Tree

I Hug Mother Earth 

Grounded in Her richness 

My Arms reach out to the heavens 

Dancing in the wind 

I offer my canopy as Sanctuary, 

Sheltering and nourishing 

I have writhed in the storms, 

scarred and aging.... 

Remaining grounded in Mother Earth 

As I stretch toward the heavens, 

The tree and I are one.... 

Claiming our place in the sun.

By Susan Nelson

Tags: Grounding, stability, equanimity

Post Date: March 2019

When I allow myself to slow down

When I allowed myself to slow down, I noticed my racing heart, my short shallow breath, my tense face and hands.

When I allowed myself to slow down, I noticed the salty taste and the wind on my cheeks, the smell of the sea and the cry of the birds. 

When I allowed myself to slow down, I noticed that everything changes 

My heart calming down, my breath deepening 

My mind at ease in this moment of belonging to what is 

When I allow myself to be still, I notice that everything is perfect the way it is.

By Silke Michels

Tags: Allowing, letting be, impermanence

Post Date: March 2019

Moments of Freedom

And I stop

for a second, 

like that moment when I awake 

before my mind starts working. 

And I stop. 

I see 

I hear 

I smell 

I touch 

I feel 

I am. 

And it is just as it is 

for a second, 

and then 

well then I become my thoughts 

until I remember again 

to stop. 

Maybe the sound of the woodpecker, 

maybe to sight of the majestic Stag, 

maybe the smell of the cold, damp dew, 

maybe the feel of the wind on my face, 

reminds me to stop. 

Reminds me to return to that place, 

that place of stillness, 

where darkness doesn't exist, 

only light. 

Where freedom is a possibility 

for a split second, 

just being, 

just being, 

just being free, 

just being me.

By Joanna Kay

Tags: Awareness, senses, pause

Post Date: September 2017

Being

I see you, it makes me smile

It's a relief, as I know you have been hiding

Welcome, you are as you are 

I feel you Your breath, your fear, your hopes settle, have faith in this moment

Trust it will be as it should be 

I accept you, and all is well

By Nicki

Tags: Acceptance, connection, non-judgmental

Post Date: September 2017

I Sit and I Feel it

I sit and I feel it

I sit some more whilst it swells

It’s in my heart that’s where it dwells

My gut is bursting full of it

All the while I sit and sit

I sit and I feel it

It wants to rise up in my chest 

I wish It would sit down to rest 

Now rising up, a tidal wave 

My eyes are leaking ‘n’ can’t behave

All the while I sit and sit

I sit and I feel it

I hear my mind say ‘run away’ 

‘Make it better just go and play’

My thoughts are strong but I remain 

To quash this thing would be in vain 

All the while I sit and sit 

I sit and I feel it 

Bit by bit it shrinks back down 

Flowing away from my head and crown 

It’s fading now I feel it slow 

This thing called sadness decides to go 

All the while I sit and sit 

I sit and I feel it 

It ebbs away becoming distant 

In its wake there no resistance 

I’m stronger now I feel blessed 

To sit and feel is always best 

And all the while I sit and sit

By Angela

Tags: Letting be, Tolerance, Equanimity, Impermanence

Post Date: February 2019

What the Bonsai Tree Sees

Sitting on the sill

Beside the staircase.

Glimpsing moments as we scurry by.

What does the Bonsai tree see?

Sometimes one who is hurried

A flash of energy,

No time to stop.

Sometimes one so serious

Preoccupied,

Occupied,

And post-occupied.

An expert in taking stock.

And in those magical moments

However few and far between

Our little Bonsai tree sees

The gaze of attentive eyes.

And when the Bonsai sees we are

Attuning while pruning

The Bonsai feels truly alive.

By Peter Morgan

Tags: Bonsai, decentering, stepping back, attunement

Post Date: February 2017

Moment by Moment

What to do when time is long?

Time can go faster with a cheerful song.

Smiles help make the time feel lighter.

Lifting spirits to make the day brighter.

Pay attention to sensation, thought, sight, and sound.

Try to let boredom pass and enjoy what’s around.

By Trudy M Davies

Tags: Time, joy

Post Date: February 2017

Home

I have come home

From self-imposed, long exile

To this imperfect body.

Comfortable in my discomfort.

Welcomed, like the Prodigal Son, returning.

No blame.

No guilt.

No recrimination.

Only love.

So simple.

Loneliness healed.

Now everyone is welcome

To my home.

By Gary Hennessey

Tags: Compassion, acceptance, returning

Post Date: September 2016

Quietly Sometimes

The sun was really warm for a brief moment,

and in that brief moment,

everything was exposed.

Half life, half death.

A limbo of grey and green,

as nature showed its true colours

and life glimpsed on triumphant emerald,

through the grief of grey.

Ploughing the proof that life goes on.

Quietly, sometimes.

By Dorothy Sheppherd

Tags: Wisdom, life, nature

Post Date: September 2016

This Matters

When sister says to sister, 

I see you 

There is space for you here

You too deserve love

You too deserve peace

You too are love

You too are peace

By Maria Fortino

Tags: Compassion, metta, befriending

Post Date: July 2016

Sensitivity

Walk, Look, and Listen; Feel, Taste and Smell

Our senses are vital to living, so pay attention well. 

Emotions are essential to guide us and to learn 

Build wisdom, conscience, insight, compassion, and concern

We are not robotic, our potential we’ve yet to unlock. 

Human goodness in our being needs to grow, not stop. 

By Trudy Davies

Tags: Senses, growth, wisdom

Post Date: July 2016

Cursing the Weeds

As I sit

Looking out over the garden

My eyes are drawn to the uncut grass

And that patch that grows a different shade,

To the shed door that doesn't quite close

And the fence panel resting out of place.

I see uneven flagstones

And that leaky gutter.

So many things to do, I mutter.

And so I feel pulled, dragged in to action.

Called to account for so much unfinished business.

I hold my nerve, choosing to sit.

Letting eyes close and feeling the breath.

My mind regurgitates the images,

Reminding me of jobs not done. My body feels the tension, a reflection of the gap,

The gaping chasm between how things are and how I would like them to be.

I open my eyes and look out over the garden.

I ask myself what can I bring to this? 

After a moment flailing in the wind...

Perhaps a spark of curiosity.

I wonder what it would be like to step out and feel the dew on the grass.

Whether that patch feels any different

It is such a strong colour!

I remember the smell of cut grass.

I notice the plant beneath the leaky gutter, drip fed, and flourishing.

I enjoy the simplicity of the brick

Propping the shed door closed.

I feel a longing to go outside and be in the garden.

I hold my nerve, choosing to sit.

Letting eyes close and feeling the breath.

My mind wanders out, longing to feel

The cool, crisp blades

Of the dew-covered grass.

I feel the energy, the prickling

Emergence of interest.

The distance between where I am and where I would like to be.

I open my eyes, look out over the garden, and smile.

By Peter Morgan

Tags: The Gap, curiosity, choice

Post Date: July 2016

Taming the Tiger

Like a tiger

Eating what it caught

Like your mind

Latching on to what it thought

Like a tiger

Hunting down its prey

Like the mind

Following distraction all day

So tame the tiger

Calm the mind

Come into the moment

Leave the busyness behind

Notice your breathing

Be with your pain

Sit with your feelings

Repeat again and again

Into the space

Where nothing exists

Return the breath

When those thoughts persist

The tiger now lies

With one eye open

Keep it calm

You must be softly spoken

But the tiger

Needs to eat

Just as your mind

Wants thoughts to meet

Practice the skills

Of taming the tiger

Your constant distraction

Will be the reminder

By Jonathan Lee

Tags: Mind wandering, distraction, discipline

Post Date: June 2016

Let my Life be a Bonsai Tree

Let my life be a bonsai tree,

and me its caretaker;

neatly and deliberately,

let me nurture and shape it,

transforming

its gnarly visage

and unruly tendencies

into veritable perfection;

let me safeguard it,

indoors,

so that it might someday flourish

-oh, my darling potted plant-

in the wilderness.

By Greg Fitzgerald

Tags: Nurturing

Post Date: June 2016

Being Me

Sometimes, I like being Me.

I like My eyes when they’re defined with teal eyeliner and sparkles.

I like My bangles that jangle on My wrists as I type, and the rainbow-coloured mantra beads that shine in the sun, and the moonstone ring I got in Bangkok for 50p.

I like being Me.

I like the fact that birdsong and sunshine and blossom on the trees make Me smile and feel golden inside, and the bluebell oceans I like to wander through, singing.

I also like the Me that uses semi-colons and subjunctives just because I can; were I less grammar-wary perhaps I wouldn’t be Me.

I like My love of rainbows and unicorns and forest faeries.

I like the Me that uses Olde English spelling just for the pleasure.

Sometimes, I like being Me.

I like this Self that the spontaneously unfolding conditions of creation have formed just as It is, now, never before, never again.

But, sometimes I don’t like Me.

I don’t like the rigid, defined, unchangeable Me that seems to exist.

I don’t like the Me that thinks she’s a ‘Me’ with ‘Mines’.

And this Me longs to be free

from definitions and labels and borders and edges and to naturally

live in a soup of experience without rules and to confidently split her infinitives and

misplace apostrophe's and not feel a twinge of non-conformity

to the dictionary-world where all beings are separate like mushrooms (see Hobbes’ de Cive for that, but I’m not looking up the exact page number and paragraph to cite it conforming to Harvard’s demands)…

sometimes I wish it could be…not Me…but we, or maybe it…or just

anything but the black and white outlines of a colouring-book page

that is begging and screaming for Me to colour within the lines,

each section a neatly segregated cordoned-off area.

And I wish I could dissolve into the boy sitting next to Me solving algebraic equations or the flowers sitting pleasantly outside my window or the squirrels chasing each other around a giant, sighing oak or the white whispers of cloudmaterial wandering across the sky…

or all of them combined, unfurling, undefined…

Sometimes.

But then I catch sight of My beads and My bracelets and I like Me again.

I like the Me that allows Me to recognise You, and Your needs.

The Me that knows that sometimes it makes sense to make sense,

no matter how I wish it weren’t so.

I suppose, in the end, We must humbly devise

a way of compromise

between the Me that lets You be

and the we that sets us free…

By Byul Ryan-Im

Tags: Identity, judgement, nature, acceptance

Post Date: Jun 2016

The Morning

It is the morning ……. I am so tired …….

The sun is shining ……. My body hurts …….

The sky is crystal blue ……. My head spins …….

The air is cool ……. I cannot breathe …….

The breeze caresses ……. My skin is warm …….

The flowers are beautiful ……. The pain is not so bad …….

My garden breathes for me ……. I feel so alive …….

The spinning will not last ……. The birds are singing …….

Beauty surrounds me ……. I will sleep later …….

Now I will meditate.

By Jeff Clay

Tags: Nature, senses, balance

Post Date: June 2016

The Wall

I just go on and on and on,

beating my head against the same old wall,

thinking I must get through,

there must be something on the other side,

something better than this side.

At last I've broken through,

and as I poke my battered head

through the hole I've finally made

in the cold, dark reality of the wall,

what do I see? A new beginning?

A second chance? A better way of life?

I see nothing but the cold, dark reality

of the other side of the wall and some poor fool,

beating his head against the same old wall,

thinking he must get through,

there must be something on the other side,

something better than this side.

There are things we should be born knowing,

and some we should never find out.

Perhaps I'll try again, a little to the left this time.

By Edwin Chauvin III

Tags: Habit, striving

Post Date: June 2016

Dear Judging Mind

Dear judging mind.

How dare you find

Fault in others.

How dare you lay blame,

Secretive aggression under cover.

Criminal at large.

Dear judging mind.

How dare you find

Fault in me.

How dare you point out

All the flawed things you see.

An uncomfortable barrage.

Dear judging mind.

How dare you find

Fault in yourself.

Target and arrow, your chances of escape

Are narrow.

Judge, jury and executioner,

You are guilty as charged.

I've decided,

All that being said.

(Against my Lawyer's advice, 

I hasten to add.)

That the next time I notice

That you’re in my head.

I’m not going to attack you.

I’m going to smile instead.

I know we’ve had our differences.

I know you can be a pain.

But if we keep on like this

It’s to nobody's gain.

So, let’s make a pact!

I’ll be civil when I spot you,

I’m not going to over-react.

And in exchange all you have to do

Is keep on being you.

Deal?

Maybe in time you’ll develop a kinder side

But as far as I’m concerned

I accept you.

By Peter Morgan

Tags: Judgement, Acceptance, Reactivity

Post Date: April 2016

Thinking about Thinking (What's the Meta?)

One wonders

Is it true to say,

"I think, therefore I am."

Is it the thought itself

That makes me who I am?

For the more I sit and watch

What runs through my mind

I really don't think

I can claim much of it as mine.

So much chatter and cluttered words

As if my emotions had their own stories to shout.

Ripples of what has been and gone, and

Echoes of many futures that no one will ever live out.

Maybe then, I could say,

"I observe thoughts, therefore I am."

But then what is left as me,

If I am not my thoughts?

By Peter Morgan

Tags: Philosophy, Self

Post Date: May 2016

42 (Haiku)

Bring to each moment

Curiosity and love.

Be here as you are.

By Peter Morgan

Tags: Intention, Attitude

Post date: April 2016

Emotional Tones

Oh the vibrant tones

These colours of the world.

The more we look

We may realise,

We see the colours

Painted on our eyes.

Imprisoned

By prisms,

Distorting before our eyes.

Not shades out there,

But shades we wear -

Imprints of times gone by.

By Peter Morgan

Tags: Perception, Emotion, Wisdom

Post Date: April 2016

How Can I Best Take Care of Myself?

After we’ve experienced

heavy rains and floods

We may dread the first drop

Of rain.

And with the first splash upon the ground

We know it is the return of disaster and pain.

When the dark cloud passes an hour later,

We thank our lucky stars

But we take this as a sign;

We know this is a warning

That things won't always be fine.

And so with our mood.

After we’ve experienced

The darkest depths of depression

We dread the first drop

In mood.

And with the first tear of despair

We know it is the return of disaster and pain.

Yet unlike the rain,

Which is blind to our worries,

My mood listens in and responds.

And my mood drops down to meet my thoughts

In the depths of my depression.

Me, my thoughts, my mood.

I do not let the dark clouds pass.

If I am not careful

The dread of disaster,

The belief in the storm,

Together we conspire.

Together we are one,

Bound together

Lost.

Hopeless.

So how can I best take care of myself,

When I feel the first drop in mood?

I remind myself,

That like clouds, my mood can pass.

I accept the darkness

Knowing it does not have to last.

I allow myself a smile

Hello old friend – it has been a while.

I notice all those troublesome thoughts

I let them float on through;

For I know that they only come to me

In the shadow of my darkened mood.

Then,

I do something for me.

Perhaps a walk

Perhaps a nap

Perhaps a cup of tea.

Perhaps I call someone

Perhaps I have a snack.

Perhaps I sit

And I let it all just be.

So now when the dark cloud passes,

Whether it takes an hour, a day, a week or more.

I smile and welcome the next thing

Making space for whatever's in store.

By Peter Morgan

Tags: Depression, Low mood, Impermanence, Letting be, Self care

Post date: April 2016

Inseparable

I remember the day

I stopped running from my shadow.

I still didn’t like it

But we both knew

It wasn’t going anywhere.

It kept following, as I walked along my journey.

Sometimes more obvious

Sometimes only a faint outline.

My feet hurt less

With less running away.

I got to know my shadow.

In time,

And much to my surprise,

Things felt different between us.

It kept following

But it had stopped chasing.

From then, calmly,

We walked together.

And to this day we are

(as we were always)

Inseparable.

By Peter Morgan

Tags: Acceptance, Relationship, Allowing, Letting be, Turning towards the difficult

Post Date: April 2016

Smooth Stones (Haiku)

Well travelled and worn,

Sculpted by pressure and waves.

Nowhere else to be.

By Peter Morgan

Tags: Impermanence, haiku

Post Date: August 2021

Not to Look but to See

To help organise the world

Through blinkered eyes we look.

Not shapes or textures or tones,

Just a wall, a pavement, a brook.

More than a house,

Looking closer still. A door, a window, a window sill.

More detail, for sure. Yet still just names and labels.

Four legs we notice, those chairs and tables.

What will it take for me to open my eyes?

See what is in front of me,

Allow a surprise.

Can I let go of making everything sit

In categories, organized knowledge, a pre-arranged fit.

I'm actually wondering, I'm curious, me.

What is it like, not to look but to see?

By Peter Morgan

Tags: Perception, Letting go

Post Date: March 2016