Facebook D Barnes

Facebook  David Barnes
2 hrs ·

Over the past month I have gradually been withdrawing from FB activity, and soon I am going to deactivate and delete my FB account. I am being drawn to other ways of connection and communion. I have particularly enjoyed and valued the photos and personal stories that friends have shared. There are many ways to keep vibrantly and clearly apprised of critical and fascinating spiritual, social, personal and political events, but FB is not one of the best ways for me. One-to-One by email or face-to-face is delightful. Let's let love and truth become vibrantly alive in ourselves and in the world, and clearly it is present, though frequently veiled by the harsh, the horrific and the gloomy reports. Nonetheless, there is much beauty present all around. And life is miraculous and astonishing. db
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Miracles by Walt Whitman

Why, who makes much of a miracle?
As to me I know of nothing else but miracles,
Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan,
Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky,
Or wade with naked feet along the beach just in the edge of the
water,
Or stand under trees in the woods,
Or talk by day with any one I love, or sleep in the bed at night
with any one I love,
Or sit at table at dinner with the rest,
Or look at strangers opposite me riding in the car,
Or watch honey-bees busy around the hive of a summer
forenoon,
Or animals feeding in the fields,
Or birds, or the wonderfulness of insects in the air,
Or the wonderfulness of the sundown, or of stars shining so
quiet and bright,
Or the exquisite delicate thin curve of the new moon in spring;
These with the rest, one and all, are to me miracles,
The whole referring, yet each distinct and in its place.

To me every hour of the light and dark is a miracle,
Every cubic inch of space is a miracle,
Every square yard of the surface of the earth is spread with the
same,
Every foot of the interior swarms with the same.

To me the sea is a continual miracle,
The fishes that swim—the rocks—the motion of the waves—the
ships with men in them,
What stranger miracles are there?

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