This blog contains responses to blog prompts, & thoughts on spiritual or religious themes |
Disclaimer: Any views, about religion or sacred scriptures, expressed in this blog are my own and not the official views of the Baha'i Faith or any other religion. If you wish to know more about the Baha'i Faith, please check one of these websites: The Baha'i Faith: The Official Website of the Worldwide Baha'i Community or Baha'is of the United States . "The gift of God to this enlightened age is the knowledge of the oneness of mankind and of the fundamental oneness of religion. War shall cease between nations, and by the will of God the Most Great Peace shall come; the world will be seen as a new world, and all men will live as brothers." Abdu'l-Baha1 Other Blogs and Journals Content Rating 18+ "Writing in Snow" "The Snowflake Chronicles" "Snow Melt" "More Snow Melt" "Welcome to My Life" "Melting Snow" "Memories of Snow" "Dreams of Snow " "Poem Experiments" "Devotional Poetry" Other Journals Content Rating ASR "Bicentenary Poems and Prose" "Treasures lie hidden beneath the throne of God; the key to those treasures if the tongue of poets." The Bab "O my God! O my God! Unite the hearts of Thy servants, and reveal to them Thy great purpose. May they follow Thy commandments and abide in Thy law. Help them, O God, in their endeavor, and grant them strength to serve Thee. O God! Leave them not to themselves, but guide their steps by the light of Thy knowledge, and cheer their hearts by Thy love. Verily, Thou art their Helper and their Lord." Bahá’u’lláh2 Footnotes |
Jalál (Glory), 19 ‘Ilm (Knowledge) 175 B.E. - Saturday, November 3, 2018
The Creation Saturday prompt: I recently took a class in Nature Journaling. For this Creation Saturday, find a place to sit outdoors (or at a window) and observe what your see, feel, smell, and hear. Record your observations in any form you choose (poem, monologue, short story, drawing, personification of the animal you're watching, etc) .Nature Journaling in the City Watching nature in my section of Las Vegas consist of opening my front door and watching the pigeons scavenge in the street, along the curb. In fall and winter, stepping outside, looking up at Mount Charlestons, and commenting on whether or not it snowed last night. On windy days, I can listen to the palm fronds whispering or the palm tree beards rustling. When it rains, I listen to the splat of rain drops on the blacktop street or cement sidewalk. All yearlong there are sparrows, pigeons, and blackbirds nesting in the oak, pine, olive, and palm trees. Pigeons scavenging trying to survive in the city on the discards of civilization. I looked out my door this morning, and went outside to look up at Mount Charleston. No snow on The Mountain, no pigeons scavenging in the street, no wind caressing the trees, and no humans awake. Somewhere a dog backs: I miss the house on Bracken Avenue, with its grassy backyard, oleanders, half dead elm tree, dying pine tree, and the neighbors oak tree. I miss its poetic inspiration, as I reread "Summer Scene". Summer Scene: Written when Mom and I lived on Bracken Avenue White blossoms are caressed by summer's wind, Dancing through green oleander limbs. Moved by the zephyr's invisible hand, Litter migrates across verdant land. Stroked by the wind, Green leaves dance on an oak's brown limbs. Like the call of an ancient bird, The buzz of propellers can be heard. A lizard on the stone wall's gray rim, Tests summer's scent laden wind. A jet engines soothing roar, Across the cloud scattered sky soars. Planted on the stone wills rim, Wrought iron buds stand tall in the wind. From beyond the iron rimmed stone wall, Insects sing their mating call. A dead leaf is carried by the wind, From an elm tree's half-living limbs. |