If I can see it, why can’t the others,

The beauty in what we do,

How God is present in it all.

Yet, they continue to only see yesterday,

The negatives,

What they want, but cannot have.

 

Is it me, or is it the landscape?

Which needs to change?

 

Let me discern.

Not just a niggle,

The big one bursts into the room,

Flooding the floor with its presence,

Disturbing all the peace surrounding it,

Which is still visible,

But now irrelevant.

 

The big one could be fear itself, or her daughter,

Desire, the often-unwanted visitor,

Steps onto the floor, naked and pervasive,

Knowing how to become the center of attention.

Who drives these thoughts?

The source of what may become life changing moments,

 

Sometimes encapsulated in a single word, Or even silence,

As the cold-shouldered devil displays its cunning.

All designed to excite, invoke, and motivate.

Some action or response in us,

Which comes not from peace,

Or love, or especially God.

 

To self-destroy our spirit.

 

Let me return to the peaceful scene and scatter this thought.

Here I go again,

Some tranquil scene from nature,

Imagining day dreaming on the banks of the pond,

Contemplating how to solve the problems of life,

Or how lucky I am.

 

Not to have been born so sarcastic.

 

Or rather, with such a great sense of humor,

Which disguises my gratitude.

 

 

 

 

 

The group sits silently,

Listening attentively to the actions in a heart not understood,

But felt.

With each week, encircling the center of the labyrinth,

Moving ever closer towards a grace filled core.

The Eucharist and their lives.

 

Now, weeks later, the graces ooze out,

Uncontrollably, at home, in others faces, at times of prayer,

It is understood.

The source emits its glow,

And turns love into action.

And action into love.

 

I cannot hold your desires any longer.

So Jesus … I will love, with your love.

Lawless and beautiful.

Boundless and immutable.

And spread it where you take me.

 

With this Eucharistic Energy …

 

 

Slowing to a crawl now,

The stream wanders in a different mode,

Than when started at the top of the mountain.

 

Days of racing and driving through the land,

Splitting fences and boundaries as I flew,

Are over.

 

Today a more peaceful, reflective pace,

As I saunter through the trees.

 

Yet, still wanting to change the landscape.

 

 

 

Running towards somewhere,

The architect draws an image of how steel will provide function,

While talking to the soul of the passerby.

 

Providing of course. They look upwards …

 

Here I stand,

Lining the walkway to another entrance,

Just some nice punctuation in a run-on sentence,

Designed to break up the monotony of your daydreaming.

 

With something beautiful.

 

 

Close enough, I don’t want to scare them.

But I really want to touch them,

Her babies are so big and cute.

 

But I will wait ….

 

The lily beams quietly in the sunshine,

Dulling all the shadows around her.

Calling all pollinators for a reproductive feast,

Only nature can express,

Without the innuendo and agendas of man.

 

Can I go into the world this way?

For one day …