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Bringing a New Book to Birth on Mother's Day

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This is a stunning, colorful, coffee-table sized art book, using words that Rashani Réa selected from my writings to weave into her art. Thank you, Rashani, for all the labor of love that went into these mandala/collages! The purpose of this book is to provide portals through which the mind may descend into the heart, for the New Earth will manifest through humanity's Hridaya chakra. Here is the link where you can order the book from Rashani's website. Peace. https://www.rashani.com/booksandjournals/p/rest-in-the-heart    Here is the back cover as well, where you can enjoy the inspiring  endorsements received for our book. Click the photo to enlarge.
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Sadana

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  Don’t ask, what is my spiritual practice. Ask, what is God's  spiritual practice? I Am. The pulse of my heartbeat is the name  of the Friend. The motherhood of my breath is the flowing of the Holy Spirit. My body is the garden where Issa meets  Magdalene at dawn. Do they kiss? They kiss. Selah. Wisdom  and Ecstasy, twin serpents, spiraling up the tree of life, my spine.  Sweet star-clusters dangling from my limbs. My dark places  filled with galaxies. Softly, the lips of the Beloved shape me,  as a Word is shaped by prayer. I Am God's spiritual practice. Art: by William Blake
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God Spoke

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  God spoke to me this Sabbath morning, or maybe it was a hummingbird. This is what her invisible wings inscribed on the air: I don't want Union, I want Nearness. Love is Two melting into Zero, so much more than One. No philosophy but play. The world is not saved by your political opinion, arguing for or against. The world is saved by your blessing. And how do you bless? You smile, not from your lips, but from your chest. You breathe, knowing that everyone on earth is breathing one golden breath. By the way you walk, the way you sit, the way you recline, then rise in darkness to stand again before the faithful sun, the way you wield your grandfather's hoe, your grandmother's cup, this is how you manifest to friend and foe alike the majesty of our Being. Photo: Penn State University News
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Never Try

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    Never try to open a flower. You might ruin it. But you knew that. Let sun and rain have their way with every petal. Be patient  and watch. The flower I speak of is your soul. But you knew that. And the power by which you knew at once  that this poem  is about you,  is the green force   that opens all living things. Photo: Peter Shefler
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