Creator of all creatures, there are those who point fingers declaring what we are is what we cannot be; move us beyond petty comparisons keeping us behind false walls. Amen.
Category Archives: Poetry
My poetry. Mostly Collects
enantiodromia
a conflict of opposites or the infinitely small place in time where one thing ends and another starts from the deepest place of darkness to a point of light to ripen more from a previous state of being from shrinking to growing the moment when the seasons change or a smile beginning as the last tear falls
“May my heart’s disquiet never vanish” – Pär Lagerkvist
Not a disquiet where something is missing. More of a yearning towards the next moment. A desire for the means to be worthwhile. A sense that peace will soon be found. And a path, unending, reaching beyond the heavens.
Answer Location
Practice to perform, says life's manual. Many pages remain to be filled before it is time to close the little black book. Perhaps today will be the day when no clues are necessary to learn a search to find the answer lies not outside on some forgotten doorstep but very close to the heart.
“How can anyone be born after having grown old?” – John 3:4
divine mother of us all we age keep us new amen
Making Sense
Even when spiritual practices fall dead upon the heart and soul and mind, something still remains. Nothing outside the self has changed as you chanted your verses or lifted your voice in song. Perhaps the answer is in the question, Why does it - whatever it is - need to make sense?
Door
Open the door to your own room and invite in the child that sits outside to the celebration of your party.
Doodling
I have started the spiritual practice of doodling. Not the kind where I doodle my life away - though the thought of being lost in spirals and loops, twists and turns, circles and circles is appealing - but more like the kind which passes the time. I am learning that in the art of doodling no forethought of action needs to be followed. Big plans and small plans are not necessary. Pen in hand simply follows the will. What might my life look like tomorrow if I put this practice into practice? Surely the neighbors would point fingers as I made my way back and forth and around and about on the sidewalk walking around the block and never arriving.
A Good Day
A good day begins rolling around on the floor with the beloved child and then perhaps doodling away the morning knowing all tasks have been done.
What Is Given
Stay on the fringe. Be present for moments. Let the story unfold as you hold the gift. We live what is given.
A Thread You Follow 