Thursday, November 24, 2011

Valley of the Blue Moon

I had such a nice day with my expanding family. How ironic that I should be shrinking when my family is growing with son-in-laws and babies. My Buddhist friend, who was one of six friends in our Green Acre class last weekend who knew very little about the Baha'i Faith, described his personal meditation of seeing his breathing. This poem could be from that conversation or perhaps my favorite movie from the James Hilton novel, "Lost Horizon". In the movie, the main character, played by Ronald Coleman, is brought to a garden paradise at the top of the world. Himalayan peaks sheltered the Valley of the Blue Moon from the harsh elements. Every now and then when nobody is around I pop in the dvd and imagine I have stumbled through a narrow opening where time is dramatically slowed-where a person can live several days in that moment between inhale and exhale.

The Valley of the Blue Moon

A tidal wave moment of neither breathing in or breathing out.
I enter a valley of stillness that weary travelers stumble upon.
To rest, to heal, to become whole.
To dream of words and colors.
Warming my hands by the fire of timelessness
I stand high on a narrow path
Drawn by the sight and sound of chanting candles lit with grief
Weaving their way through the darkness of the Valley of the Blue Moon below
A familiar voice, my voice,
Tells me
I cannot stay here.
I exhale.
The tide rushes in.
The ball I have thrown high in the air
Has fallen to the earth
And so must I.


  1. and yet, there is always the next breath...

  2. I'm curious, why grief? I don't find that a prominent feeling when in that valley.