A place where we walk-for Justine Juliani


This path
shadows fall
and where light
like the flame
in a swinging lantern,
is where we walk.
we come here alone,
joined by others;
following the curve of circles,
the lines that separate us
yet join us
at the end
when we leave the labrynth.
We come here to see
what awaits inside us,
what awaits ahead of us.
Your gift to us;
to look not with our eyes.
But to see and to search with
our soul.

by J. Hamilton

petals to cushion the hard places

My Path with Stars Bestrewn

Those of you who have been following this blog for any length of time know that nature is my primary focus. The flora and fauna that inhabit my gardens and populate nearby fields, woods, and waterways are not only the focal point of my lens, they are also my teachers. I absorb many spiritual lessons while observing the quiet examples nature unfurls before me.

Some people claim to have a spirit animal – a creature who, for them, embodies certain inspirational qualities or characteristics. I don’t have a spirit animal, but I do have a few spirit flowers. And one of my special favorites is sweet alyssum. I’ve long identified sweet alyssum as the poster child (as it were) for resilience. Each year, when autumn’s first frost descends, it lays waste the garden – impatiens and begonias crumple, other fair blossoms faint dead away. But not sweet alyssum. While the…

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Widow Skimmer (Libellula luctuosa)

Widow Skimmer (Libellula luctuosa)

I remember
sitting in a borrowed boat,
my brother paddling across the dimpled river
lost in thought.
floated around us;
and moving in the air
with great precision.
I don’t know what it was about them
that made me feel fear
when they gently grazed my fingertips
with their slender wings.
so many summers later,
I watch them
with different eyes.
They seem different,
with their quiet elegance,
play as they
drift above the water,
their silvery-blue wings catching the light.
They seem enchanted by their own magic,
as they
glide from one moment to the next,
unconcerned about impermanence.
Water and light
and summer
belongs to them
-through all the hours of their brief eternity.

J. Hamilton



You drift
as though searching for a place to land.
In the air
with spots like eyes
you see me
i think.
I always hoped you were a messenger
giving me a sign
that there is more than this.
But as you glide in empty spaces
over my head
finding another one
like you,
a flitting dance
a sort of courtship,
I think of you as earthbound
waiting for your journey to begin.
A flower with a dark centre
and petals
of dark yellow
stands tall in this colony of yellowed wings.
Its face greets
the weightless bodies
of two travellers,
perching for a moment
before they catch the wind.

J. Hamilton