When I am me
God’s words, earth’s words
Are not lost on me
They are as loud as the roar of ocean waves
Quiet as a tiptoe through rustling leaves
Strong as a persistent yellow dandelion pushing through a concrete crack
And gentle as butterfly wings dipping in the breeze
When I am me
God’s words, earth’s words
Complete me
— An Awakening in Nature Participant
I lay down on the earth in the warm grass – realizing for the first time the living breathing entity that is earth – the life force within – that actually emanates into me: that there is an eternity within me that does not die.
— Corinne A. , Batavia

Eleven degrees this morning, cold, yet sunny with a bright blue sky. Decorated with condensation the window panes offer a beautiful view of a light snow that covers the ground and trees. I look up and see the top of the maple tree with her graceful limbs silhouetted against the blue sky, perfect symmetry of larger limbs melding into very fine delicate branches fanned against the sky. In contrast the thinner honey locust tree beside the maple has angular, sparse, claw like branches jutting out from it’s rough bark looking strong, purposeful and free.

These trees honor and praise God in the sanctity of their individual beauty.
I am grateful to love and appreciate the difference.
— Deborah Marqui, St. charles

I watched the squirrels.
One ran from another and hid in a hole in an old, gnarled honey locust tree.

Today, during meditation I tried to hide from God.

Hiding my face in shame, I saw on a deeper level my imperfections, my selfishness, my critical attitude about how people dress, look and act, my impatience with being verses doing.

God comes and finds me.Leaning down God places warm hands on my shoulders and says, “Do not hide from me.

You will be called, ‘The One Who Knows Herself.’ Looking deeply into yourself will help you understand the depths of human nature and the depth of my love for you just as you are.”

Tearfully, watching the squirrels play, I sit with this paradox of being deeply loved knowing the depth of my imperfections, grateful and overwhelmed by this all-consuming tenderness and acceptance.
— Deborah marqui