Words of Violence

Like me, perhaps you are tired of hearing the unceasing voices of anger that fill the internet, media, work places, and daily lives. There are many who feel that their opinions or politics are so important and right that they must repeatedly and publicly share their ideas through any forum…

Words of Violence

Like me, perhaps you are tired of hearing the unceasing voices of anger that fill the internet, media, work places, and daily lives. There are many who feel that their opinions or politics are so important and right that they must repeatedly and publicly share their ideas through any forum…

Storms are Coming

My eyes opened at 4 AM this morning, better than the 2 AM yesterday, and these words came…. Storms are coming They are gathering On the horizon… You smell rain, And the lightning Raises the hair On your arms. Storms are coming They are gathering On the horizon. The lightning…

Storms are Coming

My eyes opened at 4 AM this morning, better than the 2 AM yesterday, and these words came…. Storms are coming They are gathering On the horizon… You smell rain, And the lightning Raises the hair On your arms. Storms are coming They are gathering On the horizon. The lightning…

From Scent of a Forgotten Flower

These words come to me like hand-me-down clothes, used and well worn… My mother planted a flower garden every spring and somehow we always ended up with a handful of mixed flower seeds that we could not identify, the seeds of unknown flowers. These seeds were planted in a separate…

From Scent of a Forgotten Flower

These words come to me like hand-me-down clothes, used and well worn… My mother planted a flower garden every spring and somehow we always ended up with a handful of mixed flower seeds that we could not identify, the seeds of unknown flowers. These seeds were planted in a separate…

A Cold River Flows

A cold river flows between my head and my heart And its icy currents are pulling me down into its depths, Where the dark waters chill me to the bone.   I have heard the melody of your voice carried by the wind, But my faithless eyes are blind to…

A Cold River Flows

A cold river flows between my head and my heart And its icy currents are pulling me down into its depths, Where the dark waters chill me to the bone.   I have heard the melody of your voice carried by the wind, But my faithless eyes are blind to…

The Seed

I recently facilitated a group and for this project I created a creative writing assignment that involved writing a poem based upon a passage from Baha’u’llah. The poem is called “The Seed” and the passage that we used to stimulate the creative process is as follows. “I am, O my…

The Seed

I recently facilitated a group and for this project I created a creative writing assignment that involved writing a poem based upon a passage from Baha’u’llah. The poem is called “The Seed” and the passage that we used to stimulate the creative process is as follows. “I am, O my…

The Sprinkles of a Soft Rain Fell Upon Me

I am influenced by and I derive inspiration from the writings and poetry of three main sources. Baha’u’llah, Qurratu l-`Ayn, and Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī. This mornings work is such a poem. The Sprinkles of a Soft Rain Fell Upon Me The soft sprinkles of the mornings sun kissed rain…

The Sprinkles of a Soft Rain Fell Upon Me

I am influenced by and I derive inspiration from the writings and poetry of three main sources. Baha’u’llah, Qurratu l-`Ayn, and Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī. This mornings work is such a poem. The Sprinkles of a Soft Rain Fell Upon Me The soft sprinkles of the mornings sun kissed rain…

The Lessons Of Lozen

She sat on a folded blanket in the shade of an adobe wall. Unconsciously, she had adapted her own natural protective coloration, for she was almost invisible against the earth and adobe. I was drawn to her. Lozen sat surrounded by the small crafts that she made and sold for…

The Lessons Of Lozen

She sat on a folded blanket in the shade of an adobe wall. Unconsciously, she had adapted her own natural protective coloration, for she was almost invisible against the earth and adobe. I was drawn to her. Lozen sat surrounded by the small crafts that she made and sold for…

The Shepherd

These are my words upon awaking, whispered in my ear at dawn. These words awoke me early on the morning of the eve of the Baha’i new year, Naw Ruz and I thought of them as a fitting gift for the beginning of a new year and a new opportunity…

The Shepherd

These are my words upon awaking, whispered in my ear at dawn. These words awoke me early on the morning of the eve of the Baha’i new year, Naw Ruz and I thought of them as a fitting gift for the beginning of a new year and a new opportunity…

SIMPLY A TEACHER

  Like a bird settling on a branch at the end of the day and singing its melody to the sun as it sets over the horizon, I am continuing to remember and to contemplate the influence that my teachers and mentors have had upon me and the role that…

SIMPLY A TEACHER

  Like a bird settling on a branch at the end of the day and singing its melody to the sun as it sets over the horizon, I am continuing to remember and to contemplate the influence that my teachers and mentors have had upon me and the role that…

ALL THE PATHS THAT LEAD TO LIGHT

Somewhere out there in the great information ocean I saw this phrase, “All the paths that lead to light” and I made a note to myself to use it in a poem.  So this poem began with that sentence – and I owe a thank you to whoever said or wrote…

ALL THE PATHS THAT LEAD TO LIGHT

Somewhere out there in the great information ocean I saw this phrase, “All the paths that lead to light” and I made a note to myself to use it in a poem.  So this poem began with that sentence – and I owe a thank you to whoever said or wrote…

AMAZING GRACE

  I dabble in many creative endeavors; poetry, art, photography, and writing, as well, as the martial arts (movement arts). I have been told repeatedly that to be “successful” in the creative arts I need to concentrate on one area and that within that area, whether poetry, art, photography, or…

AMAZING GRACE

  I dabble in many creative endeavors; poetry, art, photography, and writing, as well, as the martial arts (movement arts). I have been told repeatedly that to be “successful” in the creative arts I need to concentrate on one area and that within that area, whether poetry, art, photography, or…

A COMMENTARY ON HEALTH AND HEALING

  I am working on a new book project on health and healing and I am posting here the introduction and the beginning pages of this new book.  I will post more on this project as I complete the writing.   Introduction This interfaith study guide on health and healing entitled…

A COMMENTARY ON HEALTH AND HEALING

  I am working on a new book project on health and healing and I am posting here the introduction and the beginning pages of this new book.  I will post more on this project as I complete the writing.   Introduction This interfaith study guide on health and healing entitled…

HOLLOWS OF THE HEART

Could you hold me And lend me your warmth When I shiver in the cold.   Could you guide me Like a windflower And bend me towards the sun.   Could you lift me Out of the shadows And bathe me in the light.   Could you lead me By…

HOLLOWS OF THE HEART

Could you hold me And lend me your warmth When I shiver in the cold.   Could you guide me Like a windflower And bend me towards the sun.   Could you lift me Out of the shadows And bathe me in the light.   Could you lead me By…

APART

  Apart Apart, how will we move the moon And the stars across the sky? Apart, how will we move the clouds And the rain that falls from high? Apart, how will we breathe as one, Apart, how will our hearts beat as one, And how will we join as…

APART

  Apart Apart, how will we move the moon And the stars across the sky? Apart, how will we move the clouds And the rain that falls from high? Apart, how will we breathe as one, Apart, how will our hearts beat as one, And how will we join as…

DAYS OUTSIDE OF TIME

  Ayyám-i-Há:  Days Outside of Time On the Bahá’í calendar this is the eve of Ayyám-i-Há or what the Bahá’ís call the intercalary days. The Bahá’í calendar which is comprised of 19 months of 19 days needs 4 days (5 in leap years) to equal a solar year. For the…

DAYS OUTSIDE OF TIME

  Ayyám-i-Há:  Days Outside of Time On the Bahá’í calendar this is the eve of Ayyám-i-Há or what the Bahá’ís call the intercalary days. The Bahá’í calendar which is comprised of 19 months of 19 days needs 4 days (5 in leap years) to equal a solar year. For the…

ON FEAR AND THE CREATIVE PROCESS

Giving Voice to Truth – From a Lecture by Dr. Gregory T. Lawton On Fear and the Creative Process For many months I have been using Facebook as a transparent platform (canvas if you will) for creative projects. I have a blog (thehollowreed.com), but I find that as a creative…

ON FEAR AND THE CREATIVE PROCESS

Giving Voice to Truth – From a Lecture by Dr. Gregory T. Lawton On Fear and the Creative Process For many months I have been using Facebook as a transparent platform (canvas if you will) for creative projects. I have a blog (thehollowreed.com), but I find that as a creative…

God has Passed this Way Again

Lately, I have been writing more poetry than taking photographs or painting.  I started writing this poem last week and before Ginny and I left for Florida.  The poem began with the words, “This thunderous Revelation and those three words symbolized for me the birth of a new Revelation beyond…

God has Passed this Way Again

Lately, I have been writing more poetry than taking photographs or painting.  I started writing this poem last week and before Ginny and I left for Florida.  The poem began with the words, “This thunderous Revelation and those three words symbolized for me the birth of a new Revelation beyond…

words written in the dust

This poem followed quickly from my thoughts about the Baha’i prisoners at Evin prison. If you read about their plight, and specifically the story of Mahvash Sabet, you know that she writes her poems on small pieces of scrap paper, which I imagine are very difficult to come by, and…

words written in the dust

This poem followed quickly from my thoughts about the Baha’i prisoners at Evin prison. If you read about their plight, and specifically the story of Mahvash Sabet, you know that she writes her poems on small pieces of scrap paper, which I imagine are very difficult to come by, and…

set the caged heart free

I have written this poem for the Yaran (friends), those Baha’is in Iran, who have been imprisoned for no other reason than they are Baha’is, and I have written this poem for the imprisoned Baha’i mother, teacher, and poet Mahvast Sabet. Mahvash is the author of a book of poetry…

set the caged heart free

I have written this poem for the Yaran (friends), those Baha’is in Iran, who have been imprisoned for no other reason than they are Baha’is, and I have written this poem for the imprisoned Baha’i mother, teacher, and poet Mahvast Sabet. Mahvash is the author of a book of poetry…

A Voice to be Heard

Your heart has a voice to be heard And your soul has a song that must be sung. You have words that must be spoken. You have a light that must shine out. You are here for both a reason and purpose, So why not get on about it, so…

A Voice to be Heard

Your heart has a voice to be heard And your soul has a song that must be sung. You have words that must be spoken. You have a light that must shine out. You are here for both a reason and purpose, So why not get on about it, so…

Farewell with Tears

Two dear friends of mine lost their dog last weekend. I wrote this poem for them and their friend.Farewell with Tears I say goodbye with tears Because this grief Flows freely from My soul. Tears bring no shame… To a wounded heart. For it is a sensitive soul That speaks…

Farewell with Tears

Two dear friends of mine lost their dog last weekend. I wrote this poem for them and their friend.Farewell with Tears I say goodbye with tears Because this grief Flows freely from My soul. Tears bring no shame… To a wounded heart. For it is a sensitive soul That speaks…

Grace

I took my canoe, Grace, up the river this morning and as I paddled up the river I was reminded of this poem that I wrote last year. I think that I published this poem in my book, Translated from a Foreign Tongue, and also in a previous post on…

Grace

I took my canoe, Grace, up the river this morning and as I paddled up the river I was reminded of this poem that I wrote last year. I think that I published this poem in my book, Translated from a Foreign Tongue, and also in a previous post on…

O’ Painter

Baha’i Art Festival, Memorial Day Weekend, 2014 I am having a fantastic weekend working with some very talented artists and writers at the Louhelen Baha’i school this Memorial Day weekend.  I am presenting a couple of workshops on spirituality and creativity.  During our dialog today I thought of this poem. …

O’ Painter

Baha’i Art Festival, Memorial Day Weekend, 2014 I am having a fantastic weekend working with some very talented artists and writers at the Louhelen Baha’i school this Memorial Day weekend.  I am presenting a couple of workshops on spirituality and creativity.  During our dialog today I thought of this poem. …

hope

Like rain drops falling From a flower petal Hope appears in the Palm of my hand. Like a grain of salt In an ocean wave Hope tumbles To the shore Of my life. Hope is the dew Craved by this Parched blade of grass. I have lost my thirst for…

hope

Like rain drops falling From a flower petal Hope appears in the Palm of my hand. Like a grain of salt In an ocean wave Hope tumbles To the shore Of my life. Hope is the dew Craved by this Parched blade of grass. I have lost my thirst for…

Even our bones will moan

I see things I do not want to see, I hear words I do not want to hear, This heart feels pain it does not want to feel. I am walking in the dark on a rain-filled night And find no shelter from this storm. These souls of the flesh…

Even our bones will moan

I see things I do not want to see, I hear words I do not want to hear, This heart feels pain it does not want to feel. I am walking in the dark on a rain-filled night And find no shelter from this storm. These souls of the flesh…

Sunrise within the heart

I am revisiting some old work this morning and considering this creative journey.  “Sunrise within the Heart” was the first image in my “Sunrise series” and the idea to use walls, windows, and sunrises to reflect the journey of the human soul towards the Creator, and truth.  My latest work…

Sunrise within the heart

I am revisiting some old work this morning and considering this creative journey.  “Sunrise within the Heart” was the first image in my “Sunrise series” and the idea to use walls, windows, and sunrises to reflect the journey of the human soul towards the Creator, and truth.  My latest work…

I Burn for Thee

I woke up thinking of Rumi this morning. It seems that he became so transformed that his every thought and word was in communion with God. The image is from a painting that I completed last year that is called Fire and Ash and the poem is called I Burn…

I Burn for Thee

I woke up thinking of Rumi this morning. It seems that he became so transformed that his every thought and word was in communion with God. The image is from a painting that I completed last year that is called Fire and Ash and the poem is called I Burn…

THERE IS A CRY

I woke up facing the dim light of the sunrise and this thought brought a smile to my face, “Mothers tell your children this story, That wherever the People of Glory assemble, There is a cry that will make men tremble.“God the Great, God the Most Great, God the Most…

THERE IS A CRY

I woke up facing the dim light of the sunrise and this thought brought a smile to my face, “Mothers tell your children this story, That wherever the People of Glory assemble, There is a cry that will make men tremble.“God the Great, God the Most Great, God the Most…

Entombed

I went down to the river to “hunt” for the last lingering traces of winter. This is one of the images that I took, and then I wrote these words to go with it. I see you entombed within a chrysalis of ice, Waiting yet for the sun to thaw…

Entombed

I went down to the river to “hunt” for the last lingering traces of winter. This is one of the images that I took, and then I wrote these words to go with it. I see you entombed within a chrysalis of ice, Waiting yet for the sun to thaw…

The Language of Flowers

  In the early 1990’s I took a collection of prose that I had been writing for over a decade and wove it into a small book that I entitled, “Scent of a Forgotten Flower”.  It remains to me, of my writing, my favorite book.  Last night, while lying between…

The Language of Flowers

  In the early 1990’s I took a collection of prose that I had been writing for over a decade and wove it into a small book that I entitled, “Scent of a Forgotten Flower”.  It remains to me, of my writing, my favorite book.  Last night, while lying between…