lord, the air smells good. . .

Walking downtown to do my "Monday thing" at the newspaper office this morning, the breeze was cool and crisp; the air smelled fresh and clean. It brought a smile to my face and this short work from Rumi to my mind. . .

Lord, the air smells good today,
straight from the mysteries within the inner courts of God.

A grace like new clothes thrown across the garden,
free medicine for everybody.
The trees in their prayer, the birds in praise,
the first blue violets kneeling.

Whatever came from Being is caught up in being,
drunkenly forgetting the way back.

ashe street, old town

Lord, I believe that I live on one of the most beautiful blocks in Old Town. . .

above the fray

These pines are about the tallest trees on this rock.
Someone told me they were called Norfolk Pines but I don't really know. All I do know is that they're really tall and, while I was pondering the top of this one, I thought how it must be nothing but airy and quiet up there.
I imagined how, if we were all just three inches tall, a community might survive up there; safely above the pundits, priests and politicians down on the ground, kicking up all that dust and ruckus to wage war, pick our pockets and sell us their particular brand of Jesus.