Leon Russell 🎩 Bluebird

The world lost Leon Russell eight years ago on November 13, 2016. He was and will always be the absolutely gorgeous Master of Space and Time. He is so very missed. I hope that our collective and continued love for Leon offers his family some small comfort as they remember his life. We will never forget him or his musical genius that still brings so much joy.

According to his mother, Leon Russell’s first words happened as a result of observing some birds…“What’s the matter little birdie, you cry?” She was shocked because Leon had never before spoken. For some reason, that sweet story touches my heart. Maybe it was a bluebird.

Credit to the photographer

This Mary Oliver poem about a bluebird seems to convey what I can’t figure out how to say.

What Gorgeous Thing

I do not know what gorgeous thing
the bluebird keeps saying,
his voice easing out of his throat,
beak, body into the pink air
of the early morning. I like it
whatever it is. Sometimes
it seems the only thing in the world
that is without dark thoughts.
Sometimes it seems the only thing
in the world that is without
questions that can’t and probably
never will be answered, the
only thing that is entirely content
with the pink, then clear white
morning and, gratefully, says so. — Mary Oliver

Bluebird by Leon Russell

*Featured photo credit to Enchanted Seashells of scrub jay

StarLoveLight

The Moon said to the stars :
Do not look at my dark side
for it is unseen by me
and unworthy of Love.

And the stars said :
I see your darkness and light
and love your contrasting nature.

Would it be love if I only loved
the half that reflected my shining?

At a distance you only see my light,
come closer and know that I am You.

Words by Rumi
Art credit to Jungsuk Lee

Dreams of Tea With The Raven King

Crows, ravens, I love them all. How spectacular would it be to have tea with the king of the ravens.

Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.
Dreams by Langston Hughes

Tea With The Raven King by Lisbeth Cheever-Gessaman

let her be

Let her be
For her heart is filled with stardust
Her soul is as wild and free
As the wind

A Little Poem by Athey Thompson
Art by Roger Guinee

Life Goals

Instructions for living a life.
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.

— Mary Oliver

world of love hearts

If Each Day…

Since we’re on the precipice of September’s supermoon and a lunar eclipse, powerful cosmic energies unfold, encouraging us to reflect on the past and prepare for positive transformations.

Again, as above, so below. Are you ready?

(Featured image by Enchanted Seashells)

Among The Trees

WHEN I AM AMONG THE TREES

When I am among the trees,
especially the willows and the honey locust,
equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,
they give off such hints of gladness.
I would almost say that they save me, and daily.

I am so distant from the hope of myself,
in which I have goodness, and discernment,
and never hurry through the world
but walk slowly, and bow often.

Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, “Stay awhile.”
The light flows from their branches.

And they call again, “It’s simple,” they say,
“and you too have come into the world to do this,
to go easy, to be filled with light, and to shine.”

Poem by Mary Oliver
Art curated from Pinterest

Don’t Ever Forget

And, when we grow up
We must not forget
That hidden down deep
Within us
Is our forever inner child
Resting, silently
Forever waiting
Forever hoping
That one day
We shall, remember it

A Poem Written by Athey Thompson
Art curated from Pinterest

Light After Dark

There in the wild darkness
Is the silence
And, after the silence
Comes the light

A New Dawn, a little poem by Athey Thompson
Artist:Elisabeth Ladwig

UNbroken 🦋

I helped this monarch butterfly escape from being trapped in the fence and she flew away unharmed.

Photo credit Enchanted Seashells

And just when the darkness
became too much to bear
and the struggle too hard,
the light broke through
and the caterpillar emerged
a butterfly
delicate but unbroken,
wild and gentle,
finally free to spread its lovely wings
and fly away on the wind. --L.R. Knost