Acting sometimes brings a person closer to God; like moving from sitting in the pews to the pulpit. Once there, ritual can be spread over doctrine to cover all sorts of craziness and sinful natures. Look how the one presiding waves their arms as their voice weaves magic around the altar. Such eloquence speaks rarely, seeking to live fully as the bread breaks in our hands. Always practice what the divine looks like so as to be prepared for when the show begins.
Tag Archives: Divine
The Play of the Gods
The long grass bends with a push from the wind moving without the cares we tend to carry when our days are heavy. Tomorrow there may be no breeze to mark the passing of the sky over the receiving earth turning below. We cannot see the play of the gods in the fields before us even though they have been dancing forever.
What I Should Have Done
I begin these poems from journal entries made in small, black books before I noticed time flowing by me faster than a rapid river. Now I return to learn the wisdom for the day by dipping fingers in the moving water of what went under the bridge so long ago. I dance with suffering servants who have come down from their cross. I laugh with laughing, fat monks carrying bags of gifts over their shoulders. I bring other divines together to see how close they lay upon one another. I do all of this to discover once again that there is nothing on the other side of wishing for what I should have done.
Divine Figures
Little figures of Buddha and Christ dot the lawns and the landscapes of those seeking to find comfort in what they cannot explain. Born from the Side or from the Virgin we each stumble into being with no ideas of how our ancestors traversed the sorrows they encountered. Picking a spot in time and hoping to evolve into different behaviors not currently in fashion we dance jerking and moving fitfully while the figures of the divine remain still.
That Difficult Place
Yesterday there was a whole bunch of stuff to ponder: How notebooks of various sizes hold writing on the walls. And how stores no longer carry what I most treasure. I have often asked, When do you expect more in? Knowing that the form of the next several days Of my life depends upon the answer I receive. Holding little confidence in the word "should" Is something I learned in childhood though Now I often dare to peek around corners at dawn. And there, standing alone with arms spread wide, Is the one who started the divine and holy madness Where I am asked to step into that difficult place.
The Burning Bush Burns
I come across strange drawings of unknown critters while vacuuming under the sofa and paste them in my journal. Twenty years later I come across them again surrounded by words that I have written: abandonment, emptiness and loss. Somewhere between the drawings and the words I can find the meaning of the paradox resting among all the expressions of the divine. And then, in fullness, completeness, accompanied by depth and variety, I can slowly remove my shoes and turn to see how the burning bush burns.
Divine Self-Expression
I said, "Imagine removing fear from all decisions we decide today." She said, "You would burn your finger or walk straight into the nearest wall." I asked, "Would there be anything left holding me back from making the change that most needs to happen?" She answered, "There are poems that can be found in the movement of the leaves blown by the unseen wind." I said, "Any love can survive until one comes across an unexplained drawing in cryptoglyphic writing on the walls." She said, "We become the chosen language of the divine seeking to express itself."
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.
Example of Own Lives
I asked, "How many more fingers must be pointed at the divine?" She replied, "We humans enjoy the convolutions of large numbers." I said, "Perhaps furiously fidgeting with the letter of the law should be made a crime." She said, "Then people would not have anything to do on bright, sunny mornings as the summer comes to a close." I added, "Except to fill daily journals writing words that appear to be tolerant and accepting." She said, "It is easier to embrace ourselves when we remain examples in our own lives."
Tidbits of the Divine (Notes from 2020 – 3)
Even in unison it all sounds so different. Each of us is here because each of us has waived the right to remain silent. Kind words of blessing are the bread of email. Words of love, the wine. What else do you do with God's body but eat it? Just rip the wafer in half. Divisions are now divided such that the system built for diversity cannot function. Consider the perspective of the discardable, the forgettable and the undervalued. Why ask, when you can call the painting anything you want? When there is no balance create a space for inquiry. It is hard to imagine another way while running down a one-way street. As quarantine restrictions increase so do suggestions on how to smile. Interesting tidbits of the divine reside and hide in the glitches.