beauty

Isn't this picture beautiful? I got to talk with some good friends last night.
I never seem to get to see them much anymore now that our kids are getting older
and we are all working.
Anyway, these are my dear friends Laveena, Anil and Natasha.....not sure where their other daughter was at the time I took this picture.
Laveena is like the best cook in the whole world!!! I love Indian food!!

Speaking of beautiful....read this poem below....I stumbled across it when I went looking for
something else by Robert Bly. (the truth is something you stumble into when you think you are
going somewhere else-Jerry Garcia)
It is one of the most beautiful poems I have read in a long long time.
Namaste,
Michele





Looking at Stars
by Robert Bly


I still think about the shepherds, how many stars
They saw. We owe our love of God to these sheep
That had to be followed, or companioned, all night.
What else could we do? You can't let them run.

Sometimes people like you and me took over
At midnight, after the stars had already become
Huge talkers. That's how we got our love of the intan-
Gible, so that sheep turds didn't seem all there were.

Those of us who are parents, getting older,
Long, as tonight, for our children to stand
With us, looking at the stars. Here it is,
Eight thousand years later, and I still remember.

What god are bad people?
A man told me once that all the bad people
Were needed. Maybe not all, but your fingernails
You need; they are really claws, and we know
Claws. The sharks-what about them?
They make other fish swim faster. The hard-faced men
In black coats who chase you for hours
In dreams-that's the only way to get you
To the shore. Sometimes those hard women
Who abandon you get you to say, "You."
A lazy part of us is like a tumbleweed.
It doesn't move on its own. It takes sometimes
A lot of Depression to get tumbleweeds moving.
Then they blow across three or four States.
This man told me that things work together.
Bad handwriting sometimes leads to new ideas;
And careless god-who refuses to let you
Eat from the Tree of Knowledge-can lead
To books, and eventually to us. We write
Poems with lies in them, but they help a little.