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A Path to My Woods

Tuesday, August 17, 2010. Who are you,little i. Who are you,little i. Five or six years old). Peering from some high. Window; at the gold. And feeling:that if day. Has to become night. This is a beautiful way). Eight lines to capture quite possibly the most commonly shared and artfully expressed human experience throughout history- -absolutely brilliant. Stand still and feel that if night must come, what a comfort that we can see beauty in its coming. Is just too little to peak over the windowpain, so.

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A Path to My Woods | awakeinyou.blogspot.com Reviews

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Tuesday, August 17, 2010. Who are you,little i. Who are you,little i. Five or six years old). Peering from some high. Window; at the gold. And feeling:that if day. Has to become night. This is a beautiful way). Eight lines to capture quite possibly the most commonly shared and artfully expressed human experience throughout history- -absolutely brilliant. Stand still and feel that if night must come, what a comfort that we can see beauty in its coming. Is just too little to peak over the windowpain, so.

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A Path to My Woods | awakeinyou.blogspot.com Reviews

https://awakeinyou.blogspot.com

Tuesday, August 17, 2010. Who are you,little i. Who are you,little i. Five or six years old). Peering from some high. Window; at the gold. And feeling:that if day. Has to become night. This is a beautiful way). Eight lines to capture quite possibly the most commonly shared and artfully expressed human experience throughout history- -absolutely brilliant. Stand still and feel that if night must come, what a comfort that we can see beauty in its coming. Is just too little to peak over the windowpain, so.

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awakeinyou.blogspot.com

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A Path to My Woods: March 2010

http://awakeinyou.blogspot.com/2010_03_01_archive.html

Friday, March 26, 2010. Here's the deal- a few weeks ago, I wrote my last post on. A Path to My Woods. And tossed it up on Facebook with this poem from Hafiz:. I rarely let the word 'No' escape. Because it is so plain to my soul. That God has shouted 'Yes! To every luminous movement in Existence. Hafiz (trans. by Daniel Ladinsky, I Heard God Laughing). There are a bijillion things to say 'no' to in the world; a bizillion gut-wrenching injustices to fight against every day. So what was up with Hafiz?

2

A Path to My Woods: June 2010

http://awakeinyou.blogspot.com/2010_06_01_archive.html

Wednesday, June 2, 2010. For Whatever it says to Whomever reads it.this one's by me:. Look at the water drops on those leaves. Weighing them down after a shower. Sometimes I feel like those leaves. All drenched and heavy. Longing for an early Fall. And set me loose. Look at the water drops on those leaves. Each a glint of brightness in the sun’s path. Sometimes I feel like those leaves. Lifted by the wind. Loving all these complicated. And it makes me tired—. All this holding on. And letting go—.

3

A Path to My Woods: January 2009

http://awakeinyou.blogspot.com/2009_01_01_archive.html

Monday, January 12, 2009. Occasionally, I free write to "get it all out there." This may not be the most well-written post but it's genuine:. Authentic. The word reverberates, crashes into my shielded existence, this story that I portray as me. Authenticity sets you apart from the masked ones and yet transforms you into a reflection of what they all seem to know is their very self. Links to this post. Labels: 1 idea a day. Saturday, January 10, 2009. Could it be that we need these dormant times, too?

4

A Path to My Woods: May 2009

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Thursday, May 28, 2009. The lover in me says, "notice." and "be." And they are all parts of my "me-ness" trying to burst out in to life and mesh in to one, trying to figure out how this all fits together and what it means. Links to this post. Labels: My Sacred Life. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). Want to read more? View my complete profile. A Path to My Woods. Learning To Live The Little Way. Love, Life and a Cup of Tea. 1 idea a day. For the Beauty of the Earth. Love Poems from God. St Francis of Assisi.

5

A Path to My Woods: Poetry Wednesday

http://awakeinyou.blogspot.com/2010/06/poetry-wednesday.html

Wednesday, June 2, 2010. For Whatever it says to Whomever reads it.this one's by me:. Look at the water drops on those leaves. Weighing them down after a shower. Sometimes I feel like those leaves. All drenched and heavy. Longing for an early Fall. And set me loose. Look at the water drops on those leaves. Each a glint of brightness in the sun’s path. Sometimes I feel like those leaves. Lifted by the wind. Loving all these complicated. And it makes me tired—. All this holding on. And letting go—.

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ruthieswoods.blogspot.com

My Woods: June 2009

http://ruthieswoods.blogspot.com/2009_06_01_archive.html

Sunday, June 21, 2009. Logic and Real Life. So I've been studying logic this week. Oy.talk about brain-stretch. All day long, statements like ". If p is true, then q is true.",. Stream through my consciousness. It seems to not matter what I'm doing. Even before I opened my eyes this morning,. If this is true, then this is true.". Then, in those waking moments, it dawned on me,. If my children are behaving in a negative way (n), then they are most likey emulating my example (e)." W. Last week I was studyi...

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My Woods: Reading the master bard this week...

http://ruthieswoods.blogspot.com/2010/04/reading-master-bard-this-week.html

Thursday, April 15, 2010. Reading the master bard this week. When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,. I all alone beweep my outcast state. And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries. And look upon myself and curse my fate,. Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,. Featured like him, like him with friends possess'd,. Desiring this man's art and that man's scope,. With what I most enjoy contented least;. Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,. Haply I think on thee, and then my state,.

ruthieswoods.blogspot.com

My Woods: March 2011

http://ruthieswoods.blogspot.com/2011_03_01_archive.html

Thursday, March 17, 2011. I've been on a blogging haitus of sorts, so once again, pardon my pause. Spring often brings me full circle and I find myself writing more, needing to come back to this wordy life. Sometimes I wonder what in the world I'm doing, a 36 year old mother of four, finishing an English degree, to what? So here's to life, learning, dreams, the written word, and whatever comes next. Links to this post. Labels: A Writer on writing. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). Want to read more?

ruthieswoods.blogspot.com

My Woods: A Few Words on Dancing and such...

http://ruthieswoods.blogspot.com/2009/11/few-words-on-dancing-and-such.html

Friday, November 13, 2009. A Few Words on Dancing and such. Do you ever dance in your kitchen? The kitchen is the best place in my house to dance. I haven't been great about yoga lately and getting out to walk just hasn't been happening. I am very imbalanced right now, just not getting this school vs. rest of my life thing down. Have you ever thought of how interconnected our minds and bodies and spirits really are? And I feel happy. Supervision and Curriculum Development. Retrieved June 28, 2009, fr...

ruthieswoods.blogspot.com

My Woods: Poetry Wednesday: a hobbling start...

http://ruthieswoods.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-scoured-my-dearest-poetry-books-for.html

Wednesday, March 24, 2010. Poetry Wednesday: a hobbling start. Tonight I'll share again a poem written by my daughter, Sophie, on a night similar to this one. My mother puts me. In her warm hands. More than the world. She is the one. With the warm smile. Always on her face. She is the one. And she hugs me back. I feel as if. In the air,. And there is;. It is the magic. Sophia, age 8. Here's to teacher as student, mother as child. And tender, returning hearts. Welcome to Poetry Wednesday, Ruthie! Random s...

ruthieswoods.blogspot.com

My Woods: February 2010

http://ruthieswoods.blogspot.com/2010_02_01_archive.html

Wednesday, February 03, 2010. Palpable Life and Bungee Jumping. This presence is the truest you, the you aware of Spirit, connected to the Divine. Usually we move so quickly, so preoccupied that we bare no resemblance to our true selves. We are driven and defined by quirks of personality shaped by genetics and environment, yet still imbued with this spiritual self, often squelched by layers of what I like to call "me-ness.". Is good. In fact, it's a little bit like bungee-jumping. Life What a thrill.

ruthieswoods.blogspot.com

My Woods: November 2011

http://ruthieswoods.blogspot.com/2011_11_01_archive.html

Wednesday, November 02, 2011. While I was away. The trees have been stretching. Reaching upward, leaves loosing,. A minuscule mosaic of crackling tiles. Blending with earth and grass. Needing this space more than. Links to this post. Labels: A Writer on writing. Hugging Trees and Other Green Stuff. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). Want to read more? A Path to My Woods. Who are you,little i. View my complete profile. Visit A Path to My Woods. A Path to My Woods. A Writer on writing. I believe in pixy dust.

ruthieswoods.blogspot.com

My Woods: Sonnet to Sylvia's Lost Love

http://ruthieswoods.blogspot.com/2010/08/sonnet-2.html

Thursday, August 12, 2010. Sonnet to Sylvia's Lost Love. Young Sylvia, the earth beneath her soul. And mourning dew all wet between her toes,. She walks beyond the trees and up the knoll. To secret haunts lit by the dawning glow. There a breeze moves so soft to lift her hair. There a mist of morn adorns her glist'ning. Gaze, alight with golden rays; eyes aflare. Yet heart all still, she waits with longing; list'ning. For one soft voice upon the knoll to rise,. Ascending as the breath of fragrant blooms,.

ruthieswoods.blogspot.com

My Woods: Ode To a Fairy Wood Beyond the Graveyard

http://ruthieswoods.blogspot.com/2010/08/ode-to-fairy-wood-beyond-graveyard.html

Thursday, August 12, 2010. Ode To a Fairy Wood Beyond the Graveyard. Beyond the graveyard rests a quiet wood. That in the day is still except a stream. Spilling lithely o’er smooth glist’ning pebbles. Here and there broad footstones mark the path. From daylight to the place where elf-folk play. Lit by soft moonshine ‘neath a fairy oak. Many a night this sylvan maid joined in. Revelries of dance with nymph and dryad,. Loving the woodland home near as her own. But youth in time is seized upon by age. Top 5...

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A Path to My Woods

Tuesday, August 17, 2010. Who are you,little i. Who are you,little i. Five or six years old). Peering from some high. Window; at the gold. And feeling:that if day. Has to become night. This is a beautiful way). Eight lines to capture quite possibly the most commonly shared and artfully expressed human experience throughout history- -absolutely brilliant. Stand still and feel that if night must come, what a comfort that we can see beauty in its coming. Is just too little to peak over the windowpain, so.

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