Month: November 2017

The Secret Room

 

Moving slowly, with eyes gently closed,

The door is closed once more,

This time bolted, to avoid distractions,

And traffic noise from the outside street.

 

Now seated, the emptiness seems to engulf me,

As a divine darkness descends like a cloak,

Sealing me off,

So I may concentrate on nothing.

 

Except the breath of life and its source.

Thank Me

 

I will give when the IRS gives back,

When I get credit for my philanthropy,

As someone recognizes me as a good person,

Or get my name on a bench,

And the web site. Of course.

 

Ensuring my glorious gift is raised up,

Because Jesus died to raise us all to another standard.

 

One I can no longer see.

 

The Joy of Loneliness

She leaves the driveway once more,

Finally dropping out of sight, as my arm waves less frantically,

Knowing she cannot see it in the mirror any longer,

And must listen carefully for her sad heartbeat,

To feel the loneliness that will endure once again.

 

A loneliness enwrapped in love, available eternally.

Interconnected

Impossible to comprehend,

The relationship between one and another,

Deepened by love, yet separated by some inconsistent fear;

Of becoming too close,

And breaking thin strands,

Retaining these rivers of blood.

 

So for now, I keep each strand thin, so as not to lose the connection … of those so beloved.

 

The Store of Empty

 

The air is filled with the sounds of desire and anxiety,

Beckoning instant pleasure, or inciting fear to bring us to the store of empty.

Here the telemarketing guys sow the seeds of doubt or self-satisfaction,

Often mixing the ingredients to create both need and greed,

Ensuring we can travel across the road.

 

From anxiety to fear.

 

The Grandson

He sits on the floor of his grandfather’s house,
Granddad  has just passed, and he waits for the funeral tomorrow.
An electric fire beams warmth,
And his Texas workplace sends last minute tasks over the night air.
Pondering the work,
I watch with joy the man he has become.
The twin who survived those 36 years ago,
While his brother, watches out for him, above, but ever present in his life.
Meanwhile, the tiny child has grown,
Not only in stature, but in love.
Surrounded by more, he spreads the joy to others,
Always relying on the power of another.
Who lives within and without … eternally.

 

 

 

Parabutar

 

In preparation, a candle sits;

Unlit, on the edge of an altar,

Waiting for the rest of the community to join them,

In the late afternoon night,

As sunset draws near,

Beckoning the night,

And its divine darkness,

To swallow me fully.

 

Then, as darkness falls,

I will wait patiently,

Quietly, silently,

Until one comes with the fire which will ignite my life again.

Spreading wisdom, gifts and light.

 

For me, and others to see God’s presence in my soul.