Smile and the World . . .

a smile lifts the spirits

On our way home from our daily walk, the dogs and I walk along a stretch of pavement facing the oncoming traffic.

I’ve been smiling at the people in the approaching cars.  I have a strategy for a genuine smile – I look up at the chimneys and the sky and I find myself smiling.

I have noticed several things. . .

Few of those people are smiling as they approach me and most of them are smiling as they drive on.

Some of them see my smile and don’t smile themselves until they look down at the dogs or glance at someone else in the car with them.

Some don’t smile back I find myself nodding to them in a spirit of compassion. 

Some were smiling already and return my smile and in that shared smiling moment I am uplifted.

It doesn’t matter how people respond. Somehow that brief communication with strangers leaves me with a sense of joy and connection and I like to think that they get something out of it too.

War and Peace . . . part 2

pale face of someone sleeping

What we were

What we were before we slept
and
what we were before we woke
is lost.

There is no time, no place
not one real thing
not sun nor rain
not yesterday and no tomorrow.

Those old fields do not stand ripe with corn
there are no children playing games, squabbling or eating bread
no soldier goes to war or counts the dead.

There is no ocean
no fish or crawling thing
no bird nor sky
no word

What we were before we slept
before we woke
is lost.

War and Peace

The planet is suspended in a drop of oil

It’s all so arbitrary: war and peace; love and understanding; fear and loathing.

The view depends so much on where you stand. How would it be if, just for a moment, you stood somewhere unfamiliar?

You may see something different; something that you had never seen before although, having seen it now, you realise that it has always been there, just gone unnoticed.

What difference does this make?

Many differences might be possible and, for me, there is one that occurs everytime I experience this shift in perspective. it is both a feeling and an understanding.

A different view is always possible. Fear and loathing or love and understanding? War or peace?

When we make a conscious choice life feels less arbitrary.

Try standing somewhere unfamiliar.

Escaping Through Windows at Night

Sometimes a poem can express something that I cannot otherwise put into words.
This is my response to the bombardment of ‘I’m right, you’re wrong’ messages in the media.

Gazing through the window

seeing beyond

Escaping Through Windows at Night

Electrified dreamers are shouting ‘Get out’
as they perch on window-sills beckoning loved ones to follow.

Elsewhere, quiet and calm,
children who know something only in sleep
hang from ledges by fingertips.

All over the built up world
the sleepless sit at the glass edge
gazing after their dreams
escaping through windows at night.

Sali

02.02.12

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