The Invitation

Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

I find myself wondering if it’s just not being heard.

These things happen every day.

Recently, for me, it’s come in the form

of a little red screech owl:

In the afternoon, when the

sun gives just enough warmth to

mask November’s chill,

I arrive…

having hiked to the mountain top

…like a parishioner standing

below a pulpit, looking upward

for something that I don’t yet know

how to fully believe in,

And he sits there snugged in the three-quarter hollow,

eyes closed, feathers fluffed,

some lifting and twisting at the edges

when the wind’s fingers pass by,

others rising and falling…

“Did you see it just happen now?”

…when he breathes.

And that’s it.

That’s the invitation.

That’s the response.

That’s our ceremony.

To fail to show up and participate

would be to deny that persistent voice

that is constantly asking me,

“Did you see that miracle?”

~ Jamie K. Reaser, Author
Published in "Coming Home: Learning to Actively Love this World"

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Attentiveness

Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

This world is known only through attentiveness;

snails, their eyes circumnavigating on long stalks, 
are wise to things, and I think this

is also true of stones. On some days,

it can be me. But on other days,

I am lost to some other place and its speed-crazed trivialities.

If I believed in shame, I’d place it here.

Every tracker trains to move slowly,

but not all proceed down the trail re-membering

what they are searching for.

This makes a difference.

Tonight I’m just being still, and sitting with the realization that

I don’t yet know the pattern of lines running

the length of your palm.

It’s not for lack of interest,

It’s just that souls can take

awhile to  

say, “Hello.”

Eventually our hands will meet.

I have not forgotten.

~ Jamie K. Reaser, Author

Published in "Coming Home: Learning to Actively Love this World"
Feel free to share