a blessing from the bare feet
dandelion heads and golden grass cool breeze about your legs a blessing from the fruit bowl cherries for your ears ripe mango in your hands a blessing from the hot sun tomatoes ripening on the vine trees to shade your face a blessing from the long day ample room to ponder and dream books open on your lap a blessing from the rain enough where it's needed most gentle pattering on the roof a blessing from the moon creatures lit by silver beams deep sleep to enfold you a blessing from the birds warbling, twittering, squawking songs look up and out and all around a blessing from the bright light doors opening and closing unfurling of your heart
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I drove the boys up to Sydney with me for the beginning of the school holidays. Our cups were filled with the sublime - cousins and family, hugs with my mum, playground adventures, Lebanese pizza, salt water, sandy feet, urban sounds, city birds and glorious sun rays. Sydney will always be the place I grew up: the city I studied and explored on train, bike and foot. It's where I got married, where I discovered Arabic and jacarandas and heavy metal. Fostered faith, found friendship. It's loud and chaotic, overdeveloped and overwhelming, and the traffic makes me want to give up driving forever - but it's gloriously diverse, colorful and exciting. It's the ground on which I lived for two thirds of my life. I am glad to return and say to my children: this is the city where I was born //
Last weekend I had the enormous pleasure of getting away for my birthday with two dear friends. We booked accommodation at "Tarndie" - a heritage sheep farm about 2 hours drive from us - that produces it's own beautiful, soft woollen yarn. My friends are also keen knitters and crafters so we spent our days and nights drinking tea, chatting, eating good food and making by the fire. We also took walks around the farm and got to spy the gorgeous sheep...
We returned last week from our holiday by the seaside. Our first time off the farm as a family for more than four years. We sunk our feet and hands into the warm sand. We felt the cold rush of salt water over our bodies. We caught waves and watched tides come in and out. We explored rock pools and gathered seaweed. We found shells of many colours and sizes and sometimes ones with little whelk residents still inside. We watched the clouds roll and the water froth. We listened to the birds chattering in the gum trees. We walked under coastal teatree and huge banksia trees and flowering bottlebrush. We read books in bed and in the park and on the beach. We caught a ferry and saw a giant petrel take flight. We squished moon snail egg sacks in our hands and bought fresh squid from the market. A seal swam under our feet on the pier. We made a sand octopus and many a sand castle. We ate fish and chips too. We delighted again and agin in the gifts from the sea //
May all God wants
to bless you with come to be, and may your inner mangers, fresh with hope, hold wonders of His love, and splendors of His world, and wisdoms of His word May peace surround you, behind and before you, your words and work, your hearth and kin, and all the friends you haven't seen, in your heart speak: the prince of peace And as the trees of the field clap their hands, may you sing joy - marvel in the clouds bees and sprouting seeds full plates and grubby chins, jolly abandon it all begins with love. Oh God, You are mightier, kinder
and more merciful than we can ever imagine. That I cannot fathom it all is a beautiful mystery to me. I praise you with my whole being from my top hairs to my toe tips: every thought, feeling, fear, hidden hurt and forgotten dream, Lately I've been restless, struggling to sleep: I lie awake in bed and wonder where you are when so many cry out for help - when so many suffer illnesses and injustices that have no easy cure, when your earth is dying, dug up, burnt, polluted, ignored. Worst of all, I think about those who use your name to cheat, to judge, to profit to parade banners of "us against them" do they see the trenches they have fallen into? do they feel the hard creases forming in their hearts? do I feel them forming in my own? love, you said, love them - love me, love each other, love yourself - love is enough, love is the reason. Yes, I am heavy with your absence, but at other times I am overwhelmed with your presence: You in the daffodil every yellow cup a beacon of hope; You in the fairy wren greeting the day before it's fully light; You in the sodden earth soaking quietly the root and worm; You in the wood fire flames to warm us, consume and renew us; You in the grey clouds a safe shroud to sorrow in. Grant us fresh eyes, to see you, to see each other truly, truly, truly. Help us seek stories over opinions, curiosity over assumptions, compassion over side-taking. May we delight in your world in new blades of grass and blossom-scented breeze, in the exurberance of young children in the questions of the searching, in molecular structures and fungal networks, in perfectly ripe fruit and steaming cups of tea, in the friendship of a pet, conversation face to face, in cosmos, a bird in song - Every heart wears the imprint of you, of the mystery of being known, wanted utterly loved, an ancient map of grace: of thriving in spite of the mess. A blessing from the winter sky:
blue crispness to smile under grey shrouds to sorrow in A blessing from the tall trees: grey gum, golden wattle shivering elm, naked oak A blessing from the sparkling frost: crunch of grass underfoot bright sun upon your face A blessing from the rain: deep soaking of your soul bulbs and seeds about to burst A blessing from the dark earth: slow work of worms and webbing of roots A blessing from the cold wind: breath made visible warmth of wood and wool A blessing from the long night: a welcome to your shadows love enfolding sleep |
ABOUT the authorEmily Clare Sims is a farmer and mama to three young boys. Each day she looks for ways to notice beauty, contemplate her faith and savour the seasons... Categories
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