Moments in Time

Moments in Time -  The Labyrinth voice so full of  compassion meets us where we are, speaking through rain,  wind,  trees,  hearing our grief, joy, laughter, and curiosity  like a mosaic conversation - whole.

In the Center of the Labyrinth at High Park I stand. I step inside each petal

touching all the universe: minerals, plants, animals, humans, angels and the Divine. I turn around to see how the blue sky frames the trees, waiting to bud. The trees change with each direction - some skinny, some wide, some bare.They talk with me, telling me to look up, nudging me out of my internal thoughts, connecting me to my external path. The Black Oak tree, the native grass so unique to southern Ontario, beckons. by Susan Murphy

WALKING IN THE RAIN - by Beverly Chen

A discovered labyrinth,

Secluded, small, cement,

Downtown in a big city.

Walking the labyrinth on a rainy day. 

Why, on a rainy day?

The desire was strong.

My umbrella would cover me.

If any of me gets wet.

So what? I’ll dry. 

I think I would even walk it

If I didn’t have an umbrella.

The walk takes me into myself.

As always, this is a sacred journey.

So much has recently “rained on my parade.”

Yet, I kept marching so I kept walking.

I feel held in the rain, my spirit 

and soul washed clean, nurtured, renewed.

I feel calm in the gentle movement, 

The watering of my senses and soul.

The path seems to soften in the rain.

Sometimes it glistens as the sun tries

To break through and touch the

Resting rain drops.

Maybe on my next rain walk,

Others will join me.

Remembering Caroline - by Elspeth MacEwan

When I was at my father’s home in February (and the house I grew up in), one of our Labyrinth Guild members was dying and so I made a labyrinth path in the backyard here. It’s the same pattern she had in her backyard, and walked up until a week before she died (February 11).

 

I have memories of walking this path in all the weather conditions of Winnipeg winter: crisp cold with dawn easing in, darkness and fluffy depth, wild wind with blowing snow, bright sunshine.

 

When I returned here at the end of March, the path was still visible, so I walked it again - most often alone but a few precious times with others. With the moisture of melting, it became a mix of spring corn snow, thin sheets of ice, shallow pools of water, bare  grass and a hint of mud, as though containing all the emotions of grief and life.