St. Therese ~ A February Devotion

Dear Little Flower, make all things lead me to heaven and God, Whether I look at the sun, the moon, the stars and the vast expanse in which they float, or whether I look at the flowers of the field, the trees of the forest, the beauties of the earth so full of color and so glorious, may they speak to me of the love and power of God; may they all sing His praises in my ear. Like you may I daily love Him more and more in return for His gifts. Teach me often to deny myself in my dealings with others, that I may offer to Jesus many little sacrifices.

Saint Thérèse, the Little Flower of Jesus, please

pick a rose from the heavenly garden, and send it

to me with a message of love.

I ask you to obtain for me the favors that I seek (here mention your request).

Recommend my request to Mary, Queen of

Heaven, so that she may intercede for me, with you,

before her Son, Jesus Christ.

If this favor is granted, I will love you more

and more, and be better prepared to spend eternal

happiness with you in heaven.

Saint Thérèse of the Little Flower, pray for me.

Grace and Miracle, like two winged sweet sister angels of faith have been walking my side since February ushered in. I took no notice till a moment ago when the thought pulsed my mind like a sudden heartbeat.  

I smiled a secret content when it occurred how in constant subtle ways the heavenly realm has been and is ever present around, above, below and within me: in my bleak minutes, in my breaking pains, in my darkest waking being. It draws even clearer as I sit here sensing this startling tactile reality. All my guiding angels are in attendance. 

Love oozing from little gaps between cracks, they're everywhere. There's a certain shine to my days, a sheen, a glitter, a glint and charm.

Grace and miracles...I am lifted! 

♥Fiat Lux ♥´¯`•.¸¸.• ♥L❀VE ♥´¯`•.¸¸.• ♥ •

Catching Light Chasing Shadows ( Lux Lucis Vita )

1-28 2014 Maybe this resonates with you. Maybe it doesn't. A moment when slices of decorous days turn sour and your light within extinguishes itself without apology.

Suddenly, your inner colorful morphs into a mottled palette overnight, a drab washed out lizard salmon of a life. That tempest within, she wakes, cocking what a diminutive dun you are.

Facing shadows - a melancholy one must battle.The past days have been so for me. What was there to do but embrace it. My adoring gratitude goes to the one who is patient and who believes and makes me laugh, until once again I am suffused with the sensation of bright - a conduit to the honest happiness around me. Tis' over. Now, I claim my emergence.

"One need not be a chamber to be haunted...

one need not be a house.

The brain has corridors

surpassing material space."

- Emily Dickinson

Something is happening to me. For weeks on end I am swept over by a sour suffocating smog of the soul. As if my spirit, once blithe and carefree, all of a sudden felt faint weary, begging for rest - that long deep dreamless rest of the ones who sleep. Scares me. 

I am not unfamiliar with my shadow. We are....acquainted.
Once a year I am besieged with an un - s.u.n.c.t.i.m.o.nious vacuum that knifes through my being. A veritable selfishness, sloth and venom of days wherein I pace my dysmorphic earth with hollowness. As if nothing exists and matters. Ghostly. A self satisfied canting of there is no mend. 

End.

I speak to it - at it - my barren shadow. 

Not with fights. Not with accusations. Not with soothing words nor with acceptance. 

Letting it be, I walk it through capturing beams and prisms as light amiably slants through branches, leaves and twigs, settling in streets, lawns and bends. Lucent.

I catch the light 

and I catch it 

and catch it 

and catch it. 

Until captured, the light becomes me,
and becomes me,
and becomes me,
and finally,

becomes me,
chasing my shadow -
away. 

Lux Lucis Vita

CATCHING LIGHT CHASING SHADOWS
( a photo journal - click on the link to view all pictures.)

My Many Many Joys ~ January's Lady Prism Living

I want the joy of simple colors, street organs, ribbons, flags, not a joy that takes my breath away and throws me into space alone where no one else can breathe with me, not the joy that comes from a lonely drunkenness. There are so many joys, but I have only known the ones that come like a miracle, touching everything with light.~ Anais Nin

A quaint quiet moment at home.

Keep track everyday the date emblazoned in yr morning.~ Jack Kerouac

Let me remember you sweet succulent January, not for the swipe of ordinary that wrenched my heart with earthly worry, but for the exuberance of your soft rising mornings, for the kindest' constant dew that misted our mortal mid-day livings, and for the gratifying minutes, seconds, hours tinted with laughter well to the embrace and luscious comfort of your evenings replete with walks under a suede sky speckled with brazen scattered starlights.

Grace and miracles, light and shadows, January was a gift of a month; a collection of days that unraveled in gentle supplication. Like the dream of sweet incoming mountain fog, the spirit of an obliging Janus wrapped me in anticipation, whispering, yes..yes, in your life it is possible to create magic, to manifest desires, dreams and intentions, and to live daily with a cleansed bright aura, if you so do wish. 

And these few chosen pics are but random manifestations of the fun  that presented themselves. What pleasure it gives for me to see them blogged artfully this way. My many many joys.