In the course of life, there comes a time when quiet and reflection are needed for self-contemplation. On Monday night in the stillness before the storm I realized that the hectic pace of summer days preparing for a major move did not afford me what I needed to balance my life. Taking a deep breath, I tried to reclaim quiet but unlike the quiet scene above by South African photographer, #chazchaz, nighttime noises interfered. Outdoor creatures wailed, birds chirped at strange times, and air passed by untypically. Nature seemed off-key.
Little did I know that the next day Tropical Storm Isaias would turn Long Island upside down leaving a path of destruction. In its fury, Isaias raged like a lion downing telephone lines, toppling majestic trees, breaking huge branches, and throwing debris across lawns as it moved from street to street and through towns. By the end of its path, it left 300,000 Long Islanders without electricity, air conditioning, and hot water.
In addition, there was no internet but endless hours of sweltering heat. It felt like a cruel blow while we Long Islanders were still enmeshed in the pandemic and quarantine life. During the four days of clean-up, people were powerless to turn their lives around. in my neighborhood, we spent days worrying while waiting for clean-up crews to pick up huge branches and trees that littered streets and homesites. We needed time to rest our minds. Because of faith and a spirit of believing, days later we rose to a new dawn.
Now in the quiet of midday, I can listen to a hauntingly beautiful instrumental, Shaun by Nightnoise, and write. Grateful for the sounds flowing through the computer and the light powering my office space, I join, albeit late, my fellow Spiritual Journey Thursday community of friends.
In addition, there was no internet but endless hours of sweltering heat. It felt like a cruel blow while we Long Islanders were still enmeshed in the pandemic and quarantine life. During the four days of clean-up, people were powerless to turn their lives around. in my neighborhood, we spent days worrying while waiting for clean-up crews to pick up huge branches and trees that littered streets and homesites. We needed time to rest our minds. Because of faith and a spirit of believing, days later we rose to a new dawn.
Now in the quiet of midday, I can listen to a hauntingly beautiful instrumental, Shaun by Nightnoise, and write. Grateful for the sounds flowing through the computer and the light powering my office space, I join, albeit late, my fellow Spiritual Journey Thursday community of friends.
Teacher poet, Margaret Simon, leader of our writing community, chose the topic of spiritual art to explore. In response, I searched for images, photographs, and music to quiet my restless spirit. The above photos and music share the beauty and emotional power of nature at rest. With these as prompts, I reflected and wrote a skinny poem*.
Sometimes, my mind wanders-
resting
in
quiet
thoughts-
resting
in
nature's
peace-
resting,
my mind sometimes wanders.
©CV, 2020
*A skinny is a short poem form that consists of eleven lines. The first and eleventh line can be any length. The eleventh and last line must be repeated using the same words from the first and opening line. The second, sixth, and tenth lines must be identical. All the lines in this form, except for the first and last lines, must be compromised of only one word. Skinny poems can be about any subject, although the form generally reflects more serious concerns facing humankind. ©CV, 2020
Throughout this week, while waiting in the dark for morning light, I turned to prayer to quiet my mind. Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for Him. (Psalm 37:7)
Through photographic art I found a sense of quietude and peace -
what I waited for this week.
