Beautiful culture

Anyone can detect that which is less than ideal. My eye is amazing at picking out the detail of imperfection – whether in what should be a straight line, or a “perfect” smile. Culture trains us to discern nuance. What is stylish; what is acceptable: what is beautiful; what can I do without?

The reality is that I have been sculpted to gravitate towards those who fit the mould labeled “valued”. It takes grit to turn my heart from superficial fickle appearances to the undiscovered beauty that awaits discovery behind eyes that lie empty.

IMG_8486

An apple seed contains the future tree in all its glorious splendour. Interestingly, it bears no resemblance to its promise. The tree’s tremendous complexity and fruitfulness is encoded within its depths. This future reality is difficult to perceive and identify. I value a seed for what it will be as much as for what it is. The two are vitally linked.

A seed planted and nurtured opens the power of a harvest that is well worth waiting for.

Beautiful culture that is rich and rewarding requires my investment in the seeds of those around me. Unless we cultivate the treasure of each other, we will consume our inheritance in the desperation of the moment. What we create is a barren desert for those who come after us. All the while I criticized the imperfection of seeds that were never given the chance to germinate!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Advertisements

Add a moonbeam

Walking home alone at night, makes the familiar strange. In place of colours and detail grand, there ’s awkward forms that haunt the gloom. These daytime trees loom dark against the sky, and in the shadows creep things that seem to hide.

And then above, a beam springs out. A soft white light that hid behind a storm. It’s silver light spins webs of life upon the giant forms that loomed.  A glorious stream of sparkles now appear to paint the world as if surreal. And in the glow I smile.

Then I sense the humid air and with it fragrance sweet. The blossoms have opened up their hearts to share their beauty in the dark. It always is a grand surprise to meet a symphony at my door. I look around and wonder why the night has no encore!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Journey’s insistent call

When I find my path is choked with things that threaten me with doom; when I step outside and sense my fear instead of  the wonder of the stars – that is when I seem to need a voice that sing’s of hope with hints of what ’s ahead.

Yet listening is so difficult when noise just fills the air. It’s so much easier to hear the roar of all the things that scare. I also find at times like these, I grip complacency’s despair, and not the quiet counsel that heartens me to dare.

I want to stay the same, it is so familiar with my souvenirs up on the shelf! The problem is that what I seek, are vistas from a mountain I haven’t even seen. I wish that mountain view would simply come to me. Instead, I find that I must trek to places now unknown.

The step that hurts is when I part with routines that were my friends. They sob and cry as I leave behind what separated me from what I dream.  Now, as I step into fields unknown, I find surprise arising – fresh joy!

The journey is a process that requires me to leave and then embrace the new that opens life to soar. I exchange my familiar for the beauty of vision found. I open wide to impossibilities that never could be dreamed – without my journey’s insistent call.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Life is

Life is so fragile, I chose to protect it’s wonder with walls that drown and are hard.

Now I’ve released it alive to dance free, the glory of living – found in transparency.

 

Life is a palette so clean and unmarked. Yet quickly gets filled with colours that swirl.

The radiance mixed, paints a canvas with style while leaving the palette the work of a child!

 

Life is a whisper, caressed in my dreams – in stillness beauty can blossom serene.

So often I’ve missed it, while racing to be, somewhere important to fears that aren’t me!

 

Life is a breath, so vital yet airy. It’s substance seems missing, yet fills me with joy.

Released in the mystery of joy’s perfect heart, finds its companion to sing beauty’s art.

 

Life is a bubble, so shiny and bright. It grows and extends till grasped by  the wind.

So bright and mysterious, it floats in the breeze, till ending the journey – touching earth and leaves.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

The flame of trust

To trust without a guarded heart,

helps me to see beyond my fears.

There is a path of freedom here.

If only you show the way!

 

To hope that you can show me how,

releases grace to trust somehow.

Yet in the quiet, behind the walls,

I still do shiver in dread.

 

Who do I face when I cannot trust?

What is the force that blinds my eye?

Why do the chains so pull me near,

to that which thrives on fear?

 

And yet the flame of trust does burn,

and as it burns it clears my head.

I see again what beauty is,

And see my world – arisen from the dead.

 

The mystery of a fearless life,

is like a beacon on a storm tossed sea.

It pulls me in and guides me true,

To soar above and enjoy the view.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Strewn jewels

Pieces.

Strewn jewels-

light’s scattered sparkle!

Hidden patterns!  Unconscious awareness!

Groping hands seek fallen diamonds.

Collecting your soul is never easy.

Grace’s anointing transforms healing’s process into beauty.

Patience’s song sings quietly in counterpoint.

Believing to rest requires immanence.

Soul’s desire meeting hope.

Gentleness grasps me!

Face down.

Promise!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Beauty’s caught my eye!

Beauty sits and looks at me-

she loves to catch my eye!

Rustling faintly as she waits,

until I slip on bye.

 

Puddles full of light appear,

flocking ‘round me in suspense.

Laughter fills my heart with joy,

if only I attend!

 

Breezes whisper, dancing near-

light flickers on the leaf.

Eyes then lifted to the scene,

a kiss of coquetry!

 

Rainbows splendour, scattered wide,

Waterfall’s glorious roar.

Shaking earth sings out in bass.

This heart just gasps for more!

 

Beauty’s warmth invades my space,

and wonder’s joy starts painting.

Endless moment – now alive

– just can’t stop the smiling!

Author – Bill Tidsbury