The steam from the cup of tea
has become a ministry of your presence.
When the day was set to unravel, here you are.
Rain collects across the valley in sheets
and from my window I watch it come
into the garden from afar, blown in from the sea.
The expanse of your heart is infinitely large
in every breath waiting to be realised.
If it cannot be in the things I have wanted,
then it can be in what's in front of my eyes
waiting to be seen.
Awareness is: becoming a part
of the miracles in the moment I am living.
Belonging in your love, opens me
to the beautiful genius of your creation
in a humble beetle folded in with the washing
Or a moth on the curtain, fuzzy creeping over
my fingers onto the windowsill.
I am grateful for the things that don't always
work the way I want them to.
They are teaching me into patience,
a patience that has not always been so forthcoming.
If I stop wanting so badly,
I will dip deeply into this moment and draw forth
an infinity of living waters.