Archive for the ‘Spirituality’ Category

Aspects of Loneliness, No. 4

September 23, 2022

More than just a hello to a passerby,
A topic of conversation
Other than the weather.
Everyone is interesting
On a morning walk.
Even those who don’t respond.

So much to notice.
Dogs, young children,
A sports car being polished,
Contractors unloading materials,
A dug up front yard,
Yard sign proclaiming Black Lives Matter.

Overhead a swarm of men on a roof,
Hurrying to beat the rising sun’s rays.
Shingles float down to a dumpster
Like leaves.
Making room for the new.
Their job done.

A temptation to engage,
To comment, to converse.
Is speaking with stangers
Triggered by loneliness?
Or just a need to hear myself,
Alive and present, mindful.


©2022 Thomas W. Cummins

Dancing On the Ceiling

May 7, 2022

Passing through leaves, sunlight

Sending breezy Japanese maple leaf shadows

Bouncing off a small, round glass table

Forming a bright circle

Dancing on the ceiling

Blessing the moment with Ps 46:10

Knowing All Will Be Well

© 2022 Thomas W. Cummins

My mind wanders

August 25, 2019

Outside the window
Contours of the land
Among the trees
Made visible by the snow

On this quiet Saturday morning
An intrusion into my thoughts
What?
Memories, longing, loneliness?
Perhaps all that

A longing to be alone
Something pulling, tugging
Toward solitude

How can this pull,
This longing to be alone,
Intrude on loneliness?

Is what is sought,
Present in an apparent
Nothingness?

My mind wanders,
Daydreams …

Thoughts go to a small hill
In a prairie somewhere
Nothing visible but grasses
Distant trees
A breeze gently grabs at my clothing,
Washes over my face,
Rustles the grasses

I find myself on a trail
Deep in the woods
Sunlight flickering through
Leafless trees
Pale light
Winter light
Silence

A broad valley welcomes me
Soaring mountains, dark gray
Snow-covered peaks
Along the path, green
Intense green
Warmed by the rising sun

©2019 Thomas W. Cummins

I’ve never been me before

October 5, 2018

With the early morning fog
All was white-gray
Seeing nothing for more than 100 yards
Islands were not to be seen
Nor the far shore

Silence
Well, not quite
Soft, gentle movement heard
Water caressing the rock-strewn
Beach

I was thinking, for me,
This is a new experience
And certainly so
On this day, in this place
At this age

Who I am today is new
What I experience today is new
All I see and all I hear, new
The me of now
Has never existed before

I’ve never been this me before
I should be in awe of everything
Tired of nothing
Open to the grace
Of all things

©2018 Thomas W. Cummins

I was quite young

December 11, 2017

Going through boxes and boxes of stuff in preparation for downsizing during the next decade, or so.

I was quite young when I wrote this. Perhaps it was 55 years ago. Nevertheless, here it is

If I could choose

Estrangement

August 24, 2017

Heartache
Emerges unsummoned
From the subconscious
Takes up residence
Down low
In the stomach
Until
Nothing else matters

A simple question,
“What’s wrong?”
Brings a flood of tears
Washing away
Much of the ache
Leaving behind
Deep sorrow
Confusion, longing

©2017 Thomas W. Cummins