Take the great loaf of life as if it is the last and greatest wonderful paradox of the moment. Offer thanks, awkwardly at first, and then, perhaps, with more boldness since your soul remains. Break open the bread as if all the constrictions of the world are nothing but whispy threads. Give generously to all those who have chosen to fall down after sensing something greater than themselves.
Category Archives: Poetry
My poetry. Mostly Collects
In Following Reinhold Niebuhr
Today I set out with intention to somehow substitute my "unconscious sins of more destructive consequences with conscious sins of less destructive consequences" in the hope of somehow lessening the "atrocities of society."
From “A Childhood Treasure Hunt”
A treasure hunt begins! From one note to the next, You'll find note after note - Read all the clues To see what I wrote. They'll lead you to pleasure Of a hidden treasure... -Cynthia Nelson
Stumble and Fall
Watching my daughter fall for the umpteenth time, her head meeting the coffee table, I gasp. Each of her little spills as she toddles from here to there seem to take more time off my life. I ask the gods to give me a little bit of the suffering and pain to carry along with me as I toddle down my list of daily to-do's. I also wonder, who is there to bear my pain when I stumble and fall?
“By your endurance you will gain your souls.” – Luke 21:19
Lord of the Race, Keeper of Time, who, breathing, breathlessly holds all Creation together; we gasp for breath having only taken a few small steps to keep up with our neighbor's neighbor; fearing for our trammeled souls molded by beaten paths, we seek not only a way but the gumption to get on with it so as to endure. Amen.
Porch Swing
She made new green coverings for the swing that seats two which I hung on the front porch. Undisturbed peace wraps around us as now we move gently back and forth looking forward to the coffee silently brewing in the kitchen. A neighbor passes. Greetings exchange with greetings. Morning smiles appear. Neither my beloved nor I wander into abstract ideals in our conversation. Rather we create devotion by pointing to the sunlight dancing around the leaves. Let civilization plod its own path. In this moment of today there is no time for dancing along the fine line of challenge and comfort. And visions can wait to develop. There is no immediacy to share in a world where certainty needs each movement swinging between now and forever.
“Much Madness is Divinest Sense” – Emily Dickinson
How much capital 'M' Madness must be displayed before the sane ones bring out the chains? Which graveyard where all the Gathered Ones gibber to each other does it make Sense to visit? Where is the echo of the Voices of the prophets sharing the Much forgotten wisdom of the Ages? When will the Divinest light of the moon shine upon the imperfect feet walking the ground?
Answers
There is great irony when the proclaimers of one way encounter many paths to the mountaintop. The shadowed slice of the moon creates itself in our eyes. Who can tell how phases exist solely in relation to movement around the sun? Atonement found on the cross can also be found whenever you set off to forage in the wilderness for something you lost on the day of your birth. Awareness and light both have infinite gradations so do not worry about being a perfect caretaker to those in need of attention at all times. Simply promise to yourself upon stepping outdoors to explore your own freedom, opening your arms to the realm where answers seem less important.
How to Speak
Honor the mystery by saying, I don't know, and watch how the world pays attention. Say silently, I will be what I will be, and then go outside. Extend your hand to the first person you see down on their knees. Say nothing. The ghostly moon hangs in the night sky regardless of there being any watchers on the ground. Say something because though the earth will turn without you your words have never been spoken before.
“Now God is God not of the dead, but of the living…” – Luke 20:38
God in whom we live and have our very being, who enlivens all death, who effortlessly turns the pages of the Book of Life, who dances on graves, and who says "Yes" to every "No," the leaves fall, the ground hardens, the buried rest and we must go on living. The earth continues to turn and so many of those in the world continue their death-dealing ways. Dwell with us once again so we may join you in your divine dance holding hands with all of the ones who have gone before us into your music. Amen.
A Thread You Follow 