reverse threading

the path back is the path forward


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forget-me-nots. [k.s. friday]

A0, B0, C1 are missing. entirely. gone. they have disintegrated and have dissolved into the ashy dirt of the piano. it is likely that if we planted the forget-me-not seeds we received when our beloved babycat died, tiny blue flowers would grow, for this spot – the lowest on the keyboard – seems rich soil. though we do not see A-zero, B-zero, C-one, the tones are still there, the timbre of these lowest notes ever-present, the grounding of all else still grounded.

“wherever you are, that’s where i will be…” is needlepointed in an old black frame on the wall in the bedroom. in the way that notes forever linger in the air, that frequencies dance waiting for us to listen, i know that this is also true: those whom we love surround us any where we go, any where we are, they are a whisper away. i plant virtual forget-me-nots each time i speak of or ‘to’ my sweet momma, my poppo, my big brother, dear ones who have gone on. i plant virtual forget-me-nots each time i hold close in embrace or in mind those whom i love who are here, whether near or far. the garden is lush with these tiny blooms, the wind a symphony, even maybe a gentle cacophony, of harmonics, seeding my steps each day.

in the midst of it all – changes and challenges, absolute joys and abysmal sadnesses – all that has been whirls around us, all that will be beckons us. we pick and choose the bouquet each day…our words and actions, our intentions. we learn and grow and send roots while at the same time becoming tall and independent and resourceful and capable of blooming.

yet, the wisdom of the ages, the ages themselves, are where we are. the notes play and the harmonics ring. the flowers blossom and spread and the wind takes on seeding, propagating on breezes and stout gales, encircling us. the universe cheers for us. we try to believe it is, ultimately, on our side. as albert einstein encouraged, ‘the most important decision we make is whether we believe we live in a friendly or hostile universe.’ we can bring nutrients or malnutrition to the garden.

the low notes swirl. still there. and all those who have loved us, all those we have loved, all those who love us, all those we love, the greater spiritual power in each of our lives – there. always with us. rich soil for our every single day.

*****

ALWAYS WITH US – from AS IT IS (kerri sherwood)

listen to music on my little corner of iTUNES

visit a growing library on PANDORA

read DAVID’S thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

ALWAYS WITH US from AS IT IS ©️ 2004 kerri sherwood


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it’s in the stars. [merely-a-thought monday]

it's in the stars copy

mike described the night sky and ended with, “…and sometimes you can see the northern lights.”  the blanket of stars in a deep inky sky are vivid with no city lights.  magical and unending, the light from the moon and stars light the tiny island.  a smattering of front lights or the warm glow through windows belies the notion that there is no one present on island.  instead, it just shows the majesty of the infinity-sky and its luminous spheres, seemingly suspended for our delight.

you can feel it when things start to align.  despite one’s tendency to question or even ignore the telltale signs or the pull of gravity, sometimes things are, indeed, in the stars, as the saying goes.

and so, this tiny island with this vast sky will also be our home.  and i imagine that we will sit on the beach or in the purple adirondack chairs.  we will look to the sky and marvel at the stars, both at their incandescent beauty and how they somehow line up.  and we will be starstruck.

read DAVID’S thoughts this MERELY-A-THOUGHT MONDAY

moon website box copy

 


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held in grace.

it was snowing when we woke up this morning. huge white flakes. gorgeous. it’s april 2 so that isn’t so unusual in wisconsin, but we all have spring knocking at our hearts – waiting for it to happen. we walked in it…heavy snow boots, down jackets, earmuffs, gloves…it was cold…we were exhilarated. much of the snow was melting as we walked, the intermittent weak sun warm enough to melt it, just as the grey clouds made more snow swirl around us. we talked about waiting.

living with an artist and being an artist can be a challenge. we both feel the time of fallow needed to generate creativity. we get frustrated in that fallow. we rest in that fallow. we are held in the grace of it. and hold vigil for the spring.early tulip

his newest paintings are part of a new series. i stand in front of his easel and marvel.  the series is called “held in grace”. we hold each other in grace. (well, most of the time.) others hold us in grace. our universe holds us in grace. God holds us in grace. the freedom to be (in our case, human) grows in grace and green sprouts push through the fallow, becoming exquisite expressions – be they tulips or amazing paintings or pieces of music that make us cry or a dance we share in the kitchen.

we are waiting. and in each wait-full moment i am grateful. for the white flakes, the green sprouts, the fallow that makes me yearning-crazy and the ordinary extraordinary moments that i know exist because i can feel them. because i am lucky enough to be alive. because i am lucky enough to be held in grace.

www.kerrisherwood.com

itunes: kerri sherwood