On your birthday, I’d like to share a poem my mother wrote. A month or so after she left us, my father found it jotted on a notepad. In the years following her passing, as I immersed myself in your book Seat of the Soul (and similar), I have come to realize that she was more conscious than any of us knew.
I strive for stillness … the awareness of the tremendous beauty and peacefulness available to me at any given moment … and as you’ve shared with me, I’d like to share with you.
Have a wonderful 70th birthday, friend!
I recall that sense of perfect peace.
It’s never in church.
It’s when I’m with loved ones or gazing at incredible beauty –
in the outdoors, or in the form and color of orchids, or day lilies, or a sunset.
It’s in the flawless skin of a beautiful baby.
There is an outpouring of all want, all pain.
In its place is an almost non sound,
flute-like in its whisper.