I am invisible
Each time I inhale, I breathe in the Light.
I am of such small consequence I go unnoticed.
Each time I exhale, I convert some of the Darkenss into Light
I have acheived no fame.
Each time I receive honor,
I share it with the many who have helped me.
I have acquired no great riches.
Each time I am in need and I receive,
I am able to give to the next person in need.
To those most powerful over people I do not exist.
Each time I meet someone who wants to be led by me,
I teach them to stand alone.
I am not revered as a great Teacher of many.
Each time I learn, I teach well what I have learned to another.
I have no Romeo to mate with my Juliet.
Each time I dream, I join my soulmate
In the next dimension, where he awaits me.
I have no claims to earthly prizes
As an inventor, a scientist, a writer.
Each time I teach my children, I have invented a new thought,
Presented a new fact, offered a new word.
I go unnoticed.
Each time I share my love with another, the Light grows.
I am no beacon, have not lighthouse to be admired.
Each time my inner Light shines brighter,
I cast it out further, further, like a fog on the world around me
I am invisible.
In time we, the invisible, will produce
The Greatest Light the world has ever seen!
jae 04/17/95
Double Moon

Her dainty feet expertly seeking choice soft ground among the lava rocks, the old mare cruises her well-known way to the meadows where she canters with abandon in that single-footin' Tennessee Walker style.  I sit as in a rocking chair, no need of reins or stirrups as we fly between the oaks and pines while her little hooves fling mud high into the air behind us.

So cool in the evening at almost five, the full moon is mirrored in every trickle of water as we dance 'round and 'round like crazed circus performers.

For just these hours we break the trivial bonds of routine and soar over the first spring flowers even as the hawks seek night shelter.  The great horned owl that has hunted this meadow for at least six years calls from the ridge to remind us that the steep trail home can be dangerous after dark for even the fearless longlegged mare.  Reluctantly we turn.

As I write this, I so remember her sweet warm breath as she nuzzled me with a warm velvet nose, urging me to fill her manger with a well deserved dinner of fresh hay.  I kissed her gently, grateful for these time treasures, these wilder blessings.
reni 04/16/2000