Hidden Treasure

I’m on a journey of self-discovery and, with help, am uncovering all kinds of buried treasure locked away in a safe place within just waiting for me to find it … when I’m ready.

Being a gal in her middle years, it’s good to know life still holds some mystery … and isn’t all misery.

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Hidden Treasure

Hidden treasure

Lies beneath

A tide of emotion;

An ocean of grief

Filled with the

Detritus drama

Of souls who

Unconsciously

Live and obscure

Others’ goals.

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Cleansing the

Waters of life

Takes some

Time while I

Lovingly search

For my treasure

Divine. It’s lying

There buried,

Awaiting release

From a watery

Tomb where there

Is no increase.

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Thanks for visiting …

Dorothy 🙂

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Copyright Aimwell CreativeWorks 2012

The Gift

As mentioned in previous posts I’ve been on a fairly intense journey of healing and self-discovery during the past several years. There have been times where I’ve asked the types of questions hinted at in this poem. Now, as I rise out of the valley of shadows that dominated my life for so long, I do indeed find myself able to dwell more fully in the light.

It is a glorious way of being …

The Gift

Deep in the valley

Where dark shades

Prevail I look to the

Skies where the

Feathered ones wail.

They dart through

The light as though

Blinded by hope

They don’t worry,

Nor wonder how

They’re going to

Cope. They call

Me, they call me

“Look heavenward,

See there’s the

Bright ray of hope

Shining boldly

For thee!”

They dance on a

Wing, floating high

In the sky to the

Tune of the sun

And the beat of

Their cries. They

Land for a breath

For a morsel to

Eat, then back on

The wing, flying high,

Flying fleet. No

Wincing or whining

No wondering

Why, just birds

On a wing flying

High in the

Sky. My thoughts

Linger longing

To know how they

Feel, so I climb

From this valley

To find something

Else real. I clamber

Up hillsides o’er

Rocks and through

Trees, and commune

With the living not

Lost in dis-ease. The

Sun gets much

Warmer, the wind on

My face chases out

Haunting demons so I can

Embrace what is

Good what is true

What is hope what

Is love. The gift of

The winged ones

That hover above.

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Thanks for visiting.

Dorothy 🙂

Copyright Aimwell Enterprises 2012

Cosmic Blip

We all have our place in the cosmos. And be assured … it is significant …

Cosmic Blip

As I change and

Rearrange my life

It seems to me,

That there is

Really no one

Else I would

Rather be.

Okay, life isn’t

Perfect; my trials

Have been tough,

But they have

Made me who

I am, and

Really

That’s enough.

I’ve seen my

Limitations,

Yet I know that

I can grow. The

Sky perchance

The limit, and so

To the stars

I go. The sun

Shines boldly

As I soar, my

Heart begins

To race, but

Not from fear

Of what’s

Gone by, no

Forward to

The chase! Dear

Venus wraps

Her arms around

Me, showers me

With love, and

Mars his sword

Tips to the

Earth as peaceful

As the dove. And

To the stars I

Further fly,

And Earth

Becomes so

Small I realize

My presence is

A blip on

Cosmic wall.

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Thanks for visiting …

Dorothy 🙂

Copyright Aimwell Enterprises 2012

Sit Still

I sit.

Healing requires it.

I sit

Still.

Resting.

Being.

Me.

I sit.

Still.

Reflecting.

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This is really random. Hot off the grey matter press this morning.

I have spent a lot of the past few months sitting still. Healing.

I was a restless child. My mother never understood why.

But we know the truth now. With this awareness I can sit. Still.

At least … I’m practicing.

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Can you sit still?

Be well …

Dorothy 🙂

Copyright Aimwell Enterprises 2012 

Four Seasons

Dormant Season Photo: Dorothy McDonall

Winter, dormant season.
Where Mother Nature
Takes her rest,
Waiting for the
Warmth of Spring’s,

Sowing season.
Where Mother Nature
Blossoms bright,
Waiting for the
Heat of Summer’s,

Growing season.
Where Mother Nature
Nurtures all
Waiting for the
Coolness of Fall’s,

Reaping season.
Where Mother Nature
Harvests all
Waiting for the
Dormancy of Winter.

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We forget, sometimes, that life goes in cycles.

I am reminded of verses from Ecclesiastes in the Old Testament that tell us “To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under Heaven …”

This truth has held me through many of my most challenging times. It has also taught me there is a purpose to the arc of the cycle in which I find myself — it is preparing me for what’s coming next. And it also tells me that at some point there will be a period of dormancy — the bliss of rest.

Nature’s seasons serve as a powerful metaphor for the cycles in our own lives. Sowing, growing and reaping are popular concepts. However resting, in our stressed society, seems to take a back seat though it is every bit as important. For it is in restfulness, when we are still, that we create and germinate the ideas we’ll sow in our spring, and so on.

It is important to acknowledge the cycle of our own personal four seasons and live a well-balanced life. Our health and welfare, and the kind of  imprint we leave on the world around us, depend upon it.

Cheerz!

Dorothy

All rights reserved. Copyright Aimwell Enterprises 2011

Haunted

I see ghosts. They
Haunt me every single
Day. Drag me down a
Dark path; an old familiar
Way. Insisting that the
Past is where I need
To dwell, that the
Journey to the light is
Just another form
Of hell. “This is what
you know,” they
Whisper, “where you
Ought to be.” And I run
Screaming from their
Grasp. I want no
Part, you see.

But everyday they
Pester me, distract
Me from the
Light. Their misery
Wants my company,
To make their wrongs
Seem right. They
Say their way is
Easier; takes no
Effort; will be
Fine. But the price
To pay is far too
Steep — they want
Everything of mine.

So, everyday I
Struggle to show
Them to the
Door. Their presence
Isn’t welcome in
My attic anymore.
I’ll be no longer
Haunted by the
Pain they wish
To share, though I
Know they’ll keep
On trying since
I’m here and
They are there.

*

The ghosts of our past will never be faraway, but their influence on us, as we become attuned to our truth, will become less intense over time.

They may knock on the door to remind us they’re in the neighbourhood, but that doesn’t mean we have to let them in.

Just smile through the window … and wave them off. I don’t know about you, but I have better things to do than entertain a bunch of ghosts!

Copyright Aimwell Enterprises 2011