It has always been a challenge to bless and uplift without pointing a finger. The signs that honor our gods are posted all over the town square. Underneath any beautiful morning lie colors waiting to be thrown into the sky. My hope remains suspended between nothing and infinity waiting for the divine particular. One day there will be a way to bring all the pieces together without fear.
Hopeful Embraces
Someone once asked the question, If I am eager to do what is good then who can I harm? Did they not hear the interesting news that the sun rose through the horizon and into the sky without any aid? I called a friend in search of numbers pleasing to the eye only to learn that the letter I submitted for recognition had been destroyed because the issue was dead and no longer used by those who were afraid to dance. I wish there will be an announcement forthcoming about the self-imposed resignation of those who failed to follow the fixed paths of their own plans. And, I hope for the moment when embraces are placed at the top of all personal agendas.
Once
Once, I had danced at the edge of it all and felt nothing at the end of my fall. I found courage and strength of heart to know now that nothing plays a part separate from any constructed whole. I must not be intimidated by nor console those who disregard gentleness as a way. The human urge to stand and downplay the other as if the other were fodder for machines feeding upon what we most adore pushes reverence beyond any known protocol. Once will be enough to hear the new year call.
This coming year…
I resolve to see the unique events in time as more spiritually significant than the repetitive turn of the changing seasons. I resolve to move through any dualism that places another as a point on a line. I resolve to keep my eyes open when they are not closed. I resolve to nurture the moss growing outside around the rock in the garden. I resolve to smile and to cheer for all that is unique and refuse to turn back in fear of what the other may believe. I resolve to be open and believe what is true and share what is simple. I resolve to ask, Where do I fit?, less often in the hope of being wanted.
A New Will
Celebration! The earth has turned in circles for a time! Day gave way to night. Seasons to seasons. Looking forward, spirits will re-weave anew though we will once again ask how to find their work. Theology will become necessary and the animating power of one question will threaten to tumble the great walls we have conspicuously built. Perhaps another question will simply become a form of prayer busily lost in the mouth of greed. The drum circle drums will strike the beat on the day when all venturing outside will cease and beneath the constant thumping of hearts a voice will cry in the wilderness, I am willing.
Endings
In the end there will be no study guides to help us concentrate our way across the skies. Any successful passage will be marked with what we leave behind our footsteps. The one with the biggest concern and the one with the sharpest complaint encourage each other to realize that they have nothing to prove. The meaning of days being closer to one rather than another relies on all tomorrows approaching one step at a time. The lawn will always need cutting so let the grass grow in your absence. Remember, the end never leaves much time for waiting.
Hunting
A man took up hunting and gave each of his friends a feather from the first turkey he killed. Gifts can be made from loving the something that lies beyond any reason. Try talking about prophecy while outside the open window the rain nourishes the spring flowers. There will always be those who retreat to writing papers when faced with challenges to how they love. Thoughts coming from being indifferent to brokenness can break the tradition of the faith passed down from those who relied on hunting for food.
Turning Hope
I turn the thoughts and prayers of journals written decades ago into these poems and hope with more attention and accommodation I do not wander off into the despair always waiting at the end of the previous evening's talk. The piece of learning I always hope for comes from the awareness that toes will always be stepped on even in the midst of the dance where everyone knows the next turn is to the middle. I am reminded of the paradox of fire where bringing life whirls in the midst of the turning of what is alive to hopeful ashes.
The Valley of Decision
I said, "I had a dream that I was showing off the latest dance in the middle of a circle of family and friends." She asked, "Did you feel the watching-centeredness change from one dance to the next?" I said, "No. But the look of love from parents and grandparents remained between steps and turns." She said, "It is not possible for time to ever get tired of experiencing moments like these." I asked, tentatively, "Do you think that awe in the midst of the grand mystery will always remain with us?" She answered, "Remember what the prophet said, 'Multitudes, multitudes in the valley of decision!"
Again
Come, let us make futures for one another. Without our knowing the snow will turn to rain again And back to snow again. If all we know of delight comes from our wishing for what we deserve or even desire then being in the presence of the one that loves will be more than enough again. Imagine being the only guest for one another after meeting for the first time and then to meet again in some present future where the rain turns to snow and back again.
A Thread You Follow 