Butterfly Kisses

Eat some chocolate
Paint a self portrait
Using only finger paints
Dance in the garden
Wearing only your
Pink bunny slippers
Give your self a hug
Open up to your
Divine beautiful self and
Receive the anointing of
10,000 Butterfly kisses

All content on this blog is Copyright © 2004 William A. York. All rights reserved.

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There, then not

The love we cannot see That sings and dances Right under our noses There Then not Or so we we believe Gracefully intertwined Through Cells, heart and spirit This is the love that knows us This is the love we all know is there We feel it deep in our bones But, we say that we do not Yet Inwardly we all know It is this This love That sets us all free

My Place

Naked I like rain. There is sublime joy from walking in it. Unique is the passion play between warm, fragrant earth as it opens to receive the powerful spring rainstorm. To me it sounds like homemade Fajitas with peppers, onions and fresh spices sizzling in a cast iron frying pan. There is however, a particular kind rain at the Oregon coast, specifically in Newport Oregon, when wind and rain combine, such that, within a half a mile of the coast that it will rain in a curious sideways fashion. As if the world had been tilted ninety degrees. This horizontal rain has its own beauty, but after three straight days of it, I too was ready for some change. It was, after all, the second week of June. Nearly summer. I was jittery. Jumpy. Though not a coffee drinker, which I know in Oregon, is just plain wrong, but nevertheless, it was like I was on my fifth double mochaccino. Whatever that is. I needed to get out of the hous...

The Path of No Path

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