Tag - gift

The Bird Table

I wanted to feed the birds so I bought a fine looking bird table from an elderly gentleman who was retired and wanted to put his carpentry skills to good use in the shed at the bottom of his garden.

When at first I hung out the bird feeder and sprinkled the table with seeds the visitors were few.

Sometimes I would have to throw the food in the feeder away because it had gone mouldy and yet I so wanted to feed the birds. I knew they were hungry.

Before too long the big brave birds came: the arrogant, greedy magpies, the comical, strutting pigeons and the quarrelsome blackbirds.  And of course the curious robins, they were amongst the first.

And although to begin with I was a little disappointed because I wanted to see the pretty little birds, I decided to do my best to welcome everyone to my bird table!

The winged creatures are a blessing to me. They are a gift:  miracles in aeronautical engineering presence of a master creator.  Messengers, teachers, delicate beings with wonderful songs to fill the trees and skies.

Like pieces of my spirit the birds flit and fly here, there and everywhere, unfettered by the lightness of their being.  As I feed the birds with my humble offerings I feed my spirit which is also returning to the light.

When the winter months grow heavy upon us what else can we do but feed the birds?

What else can we do but tend as lovingly and gently to the aspects of ourselves that yearn for care and kindness?

And with the passing of time and regular care and attention the numbers and varieties of visitors to the bird table increases in the garden of my being; slowly at first and then more and more.

I sit and watch their antics from the comfort of my chair and  I smile in welcome at the new arrivals who now grace me with their presence daily.

The pretty multi-coloured ones come now too: the goldfinches and bullfinches and blue tits and great tits, the shy winged ones:  acceptance, compassion, gentleness.

So I feed the birds to show them that I love them all.

As I make my morning trip, barefoot across the cold, damp, earth to replenish the bird table for my spirited, winged, treasures I know that as I feed them, so I feed and nourish myself.

And the cold, dark season begins to pass and I am at peace with my winter’s work of kindness and care, tending to the nourishment of the birds as they flit and fly inside me; the arrogant, the gentle, the comical, the cheeky, the quarrelsome, the shy.

After all, I am learning that everyone is welcome at my bird table.

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If You Come To My Door

If you come to my door then please leave your mind by the path on the garden gate.

It’s not that there is a problem with your mind, you have a beautiful mind, it’s just that it gets a little lost and scared at times.

Do not leave it by my door because it will bounce and jump, so that it can peak through the windows.

Hang it gently, tenderly on the gatepost as if it were your favourite bag with a box of eggs inside.

 

If you come to my door then take my outstretched hand for you are most welcome into this sacred space.

Let me take your coat and shoes and take a seat while I prepare you something warm and soothing to sip.

Show me with your eyes when you are ready to be held and I will wrap my strong arms around you so that you will know that you are safe and cherished.

And allow me the pleasure of nuzzling under the tumble of your thick brown curls so that I can breathe you in; your exquisite, delicate, feminine fragrance.

 

If you come to my door please allow me to prepare some food for us while you lay looking so beautiful on the sofa, and rest your sleepy body.

When our bellies are full let’s watch our spirits swirl and blend with the gentle, warm music and soft, cosy candle light.

 

If you come to my door then perhaps my body will dance and move for you as it has never done before and I will lay back when I am spent and watch your curves ebb and flow to the rhythm of your life’s passion for itself.

If you come to my door then perhaps you will also come to my bed. Perhaps I will lay my hands on you where they are moved to be or I will breathe into you the sacred Lover’s breath and allow the magic to pulsate, to move and tremble your open, physical form.  And the releasing, the transforming will be done with tears and laughter while a  deep reverence and gratitude for this human experience shall join us and watch in awe.

Then we shall lay together and I will caress your face allowing the memories and old fears to surface gently like rainbow bubbles whose time has come to burst.

Please come to my door for your love blesses me as it undoes and dissolves that which was never really me.

Your outstretched hand as I go to leave the bed says so sweetly and tenderly ‘don’t go my love. Stay a while longer.  I want you.’ Your wanting melts my heart and tears for all the unloved and unwanted parts of my self rise up.

And when we are done with our healing, our feeling, our letting go, then we will slip into a hot bath together to wash each other and feel the wet contours of these miraculous human lives. Frankincense and Lavender oil to anoint these sacred bodies that know and feel so much.

If you come to my door then know that I will miss you when you leave; even though we both know that Love can never really leave itself.

If you come to my door…

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Re-wilding Miguel

 

I am growing my hair  I love feeling the wildness of the wind in my hair when I am out walking. I am re-wilding my Self. I am feeling the land, the earth in my bones. I am allowing my true nature to rise again beyond the suppression that society  imposed on me.  I have Celtic blood in my veins.  I have the heart of a warrior.  I am returning home.  I AM.

One Love. x

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