Small Tendrils

I am always taken by surprise by the effect that ambient social atmosphere’s have on me.

They impact me more than I realize. Usually it begins very subtly.

Small tendrils seem to seep into my experience.

My emotions begin to shift in subtle ways.

Little thoughts seem to intrude upon my day.

Innocuous promptings seem to shift my perceptions to align with that which dominates.

Invariably,

what was unconscious becomes conscious

– when my dislocation from my normal anchors, leaves me adrift.

I awaken in shock, not quite aware of what set me loose and drifting.

 

If I stay within a “needy” mindset, I find my perceptions only generate more confusion.

However,

when I choose to process my realities within a spiritual dimension,

I find the elements that have shifted me, standing out in stark contrast to the things I hold dear.

These are the things that release my identity and freedom.

I choose again to reaffirm that which grants me grace

and

find the tendrils die off as I rise once again  – with clarity.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

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Learning stillness

Waiting in stillness takes time to evolve.

At first there is clutter that doesn’t dissolve.

The stillness is riven by thunder and cloud.

What seemed just so easy , a walk in the park,

has suddenly become a battle that sparks!

 

The choice to be still stays steady on course.

The storm that has gathered is pressed down with force.

A moment of quiet, the winds fade away,

a sense of a whisper that comes from within,

encourages my being to sit still and grin!

 

The ground becomes fluid, resistance has run.

I feel grace stirring; peace kisses my face.

I welcome the shifting, as presence feels sweet.

I’m always surprised as I’m wakened to more.

I”ve spread out my wings I’m ready to explore.

 

Eternity’s vastness can simply surround.

The presence of hope makes a hush all around.

My spirit just twinkles, and life opens wide.

I’ve made a connection  with beauty’s best side.

I’m known, established and fully alive!

Autor – Bill Tidsbury

Whose choice

Choices tickle,

choices form,

in the middle

of forest’s gloom.

 

Instinct rises,

instinct sears,

when my urges

have no room.

 

Fire devours,

fire reveals,

all that’s precious

as they’re burned.

 

Ashes stink;

ashes flee!

Winds that howl

tear all I’ve learned.

 

Memory cries;

memory sighs!

When all I know

disappears in fog.

 

Journey grows;

journey flows!

Along the path

I find a log!

 

Prince arises;

prince appears!

Another’s choice

opened up this frog!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Grace whispers

Quiet!

Sensing stillness.

Grace whispers gently.

Clamouring expectations left behind.

Accepting my choices for today.

Passing through quiet’s portal to presence.

Lingering fog of bleakness – doubting Jesus’s passion.

My chosen path embraces life’s mysteries.

Stepping into faith with longing.

Committed to transparent vitality.

Spirit’s welcome presence.

He caresses!

 Anchored.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Driving me

So many things can drive me!

Life is framed by choices made. Yet so often, the instant course corrections that meander through my day, occur without my conscious say! I had intended to grab a coffee but as I go, I meet a friend! We put our heads together and a tangent frames my day!

Now, what occurs behind my eyes, when in those moments I must choose, to stay within the plans I’d made, or shift and spend my time with you! It is within those swirling depths, that  impulse moves, or, shifts and lurks. What do I value? Am I truly free? Or, is a beast alive inside of me?

The pressures that do drive me, I am learning now to see. They often do surprise me with demands that are severe! If I am living unaware, they quickly overwhelm my sensibilities and I am moved to act by relics left behind by previous storms and eventualities. I then am left with ponderings in the middle of the night; regarding the many sorrows that partnered with my precious life this day.

So again I wake and make a firm resolve.  I want to hear Spirit’s whisper, that reminds me of fresh delight. I must remind my heart to pause upon this precipice of choice! This presence speaks a freedom for me from those dark masters in my night. I’m open once again – curious, eager – to dance within the storm and not simply run in anguish; driven to be forlorn.

Author – Bill Tidsbury