January 2022 – A Thread You Follow

gathering of crows

grandfathers tell us to wait
for the spirit to descend 
upon our hearts
not like in sanctuaries
where the order of worship
must be followed
but in the cawing of crows 
gathering in the limbs
above our heads on a winter day

Undone

I survived my last spontaneous love affair 
in what used to be called the insane asylum
by demanding at all times for God to be removed
from the heavens and given into the hands of the people.

New students of the divine were more than pleased
to see the moment of promised serenity and deep peace
when grace lifted itself off of the pages of studied texts
and crept into the pockets of all who walked by the window.

There will come a time when driven nails will actually
remove themselves from all bleeding hands
and lean bodies will fall gently down from the trees
upon which they were to have spent eternity.

“I make peace and create evil.” Isaiah 45:7

Surely the desire to create evil comes
from some crooked past untouched by the divine.
Or, does this line join all the other buried texts
that make us uncomfortable when standing
before the burning bush and with each other?
One does not mention the nature of the whims of God
in polite company seeking to drink tea in peace.
Is it any wonder that redemption then waits
for us on the other side of how we spend our time
passing each other over with our judgments
that come from some tiny space inside our hearts?

The Upcoming Day

A myth and a symbol trade places
on the pages of history.  The absolute
moves to the margin to create more space
for the relative.  Interpretation surprised
everyone not familiar with how the words
became written.  The dance between simple
and complex astounded all onlookers
as one bowed to the other right before
the music started.  There was one who sat 
in a corner looking in at the grasping play
exasperated with the showiness of it all.
Most left early determined to get a good
night's rest before attempting to take
what was learned and form the light
for the upcoming day.

Sorrowing

"Serene is what happens to ourselves." - Rilke

But only after the visit of sorrows
that wander from one soul to the next.

To cry and get through to the place
and time of not crying is the yearning
of all who are full of sorrow.  

The moss in the garden accepts every falling tear 
sorrowing the rock upon which it and every 
absolute eternity rests in serenity.

Form

Both conforming
and transforming
begin with a form.

Let the tears 
dropping
down your cheek
show the urges
of your heart
and may the form 
you take
reveal 
how you discern
the will of the gods.

Vignettes

There are many people with stories
yet only a few who can tell them.

Not all nuts that fall to the ground
become old trees.

I have walked the middle of city sidewalks
on the edge of the holy.

Others quote passages from ancient texts
to be acceptable and perfect.

The Note

A daughter's note 
begins a journal from long ago
taped to the first page
saying I love you.

Time and seasons
allow such words 
to guide us into mystery
in a meaningful way.

How many hours have I spent
reading the final page of books?
The moments I absorbed
the last words written while
the baby napped felt almost
stolen.  From where, I do not know.

Make the Way

The plum bonsai sits in the window
not asking for the sunlight to wrap it
in any treasured way nor to be special
like the sailboat in the bay requiring 
wind to move across the water.  To be
on the fringe of things is not about 
being accepted or not accepted but
requires a certain type of movement
like the boat riding through waves.
There is nothing forced about the prow
separating the path it must follow
through the water.  The water parts
to make the way.