Some souls wander far, not because they are lost, but because they are gathering pieces of themselves like fallen petals. And one day, without announcement, they turn the doorknob of their own heart and step inside. Welcome home. The tea is still warm
I loved this, Dorie. That line about being weary of your own company… oof. And then the way you bring it back to ritual and stillness.... that kind of peace only comes from letting the noise fall away. Your poem reads like someone remembering who they are. 🤍 This one resonated deeply for me.
Dorie, everything you do is wonderful, and it doesn’t have to be perfect. I just know you’ll play from the heart—that’s more than I could ever ask for.
I love this. It feels like a reminder that when the world grows loud and the ego restless, the old rituals still know how to guide us home. The brush, the incense, the qin… they read like doorways back to a truer quiet, the kind we forget until we return to it.
Thank you Steve. I do practice all of these. I kind of got away from it because I was getting too invested in outside interference so to speak. I do practice calligraphy, incense forms, meditation, and I also play the Guqin. I have to gently remind myself that I need to hold my peace and turn off my electronics and practice the things that give me a calm and peace in my heart more.
A meditative poem that spirals from loneliness "filled with fleeting things" towards a "steady flame, [and] incense smoke" where "qin's seven strings" allow you to be someone you are familiar with, yourself, a moment, a peace of mind. The images set in motion, allowing me to follow along. a bit of a story in the mind.
Thank you so much Paul! You are so wonderfully kind! I am very happy you liked it. I wrote this one over the last two weeks preparing for Chinese New Year.
Some souls wander far, not because they are lost, but because they are gathering pieces of themselves like fallen petals. And one day, without announcement, they turn the doorknob of their own heart and step inside. Welcome home. The tea is still warm
I love this comment! Thank you so very much!
Me too! What a beautiful comment.
You're welcome 🤍
Once you enjoy the presence of yourself others will start to follow..
Truth!
Thank you for your lovely writing .What a gift. Love Claire
What a symposium of sensations, the sixth sense is present here. In the loneliness we can be aware of the strings, the touch, & the pulse.
Incredible piecing Dorie!
You are so kind, thank you always for your support and for reading my work so thoughtfully.
You’re a word assembly dojo for me — I love the training grounds! ✳️🔆
I’m saving this! 🩷🫶🏼
I loved this, Dorie. That line about being weary of your own company… oof. And then the way you bring it back to ritual and stillness.... that kind of peace only comes from letting the noise fall away. Your poem reads like someone remembering who they are. 🤍 This one resonated deeply for me.
I’m so happy you liked it Andrea!
Dorie, your poem is wonderful—a life measured by bringing the self back home. But I’d really, really love to hear you play the guqin.
I’m not so good Phoeby lol. When I build up my confidence, I will definitely play it for you
Dorie, everything you do is wonderful, and it doesn’t have to be perfect. I just know you’ll play from the heart—that’s more than I could ever ask for.
You are so kind! So wonderfully kind!
The qin with seven strings being played slow made me melt a little...
I love playing my Guqin very much!
Dear White Rabbit,
I love this. It feels like a reminder that when the world grows loud and the ego restless, the old rituals still know how to guide us home. The brush, the incense, the qin… they read like doorways back to a truer quiet, the kind we forget until we return to it.
Steve
Thank you Steve. I do practice all of these. I kind of got away from it because I was getting too invested in outside interference so to speak. I do practice calligraphy, incense forms, meditation, and I also play the Guqin. I have to gently remind myself that I need to hold my peace and turn off my electronics and practice the things that give me a calm and peace in my heart more.
A meditative poem that spirals from loneliness "filled with fleeting things" towards a "steady flame, [and] incense smoke" where "qin's seven strings" allow you to be someone you are familiar with, yourself, a moment, a peace of mind. The images set in motion, allowing me to follow along. a bit of a story in the mind.
Thank you for sharing this poem, Dorie.
Thank you so much Paul! You are so wonderfully kind! I am very happy you liked it. I wrote this one over the last two weeks preparing for Chinese New Year.
"To the steady flame, the incense smoke,
A single, curling, sacred line.
To the brush’s stroke on waiting silk,
Where ink and mindfulness combine." This reads so elegantly ♥
Thank you! It is a mirror reflection of how I want to center my life in poise. Thank you for saying it is elegant! You absolutely made my day!
Dorie, wish you lots of peace and mental health time!
Thank you🙏🏽 I’m finally turning the corner.