Looking after Myself
The Two Wolves
Sustaining and Draining Activities
Breathing Space Meditation (linked to Pleasant)
Allowing Silence in Meditation
Poem
Ritual by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
It’s not as if the clouds were parted and
some waterfall of golden light poured forth.
No rainbow smeared sky. No wondrous star. No Kings with gold.
No angel choir. The sun did not stand still.
No burning bush. No parted seas. No feast
of fish and bread. Sometimes the aching heart
wants blatant, flagrant proof of holiness.
Tonight it was the swallows as they keeled
and curved, converged, dispersed and reappeared
that altered me. Though truly, it was not
the birds and more the watching as they swooped,
the watching ’til the watching self-dissolved
and the world was only space and darkling wings.