The Fountainhead is not the brook,

The brook is not the source,

Yet, they both contain the same living water.

The same essence.

Refreshment and life together.

 

The window lets us see the light,

Emitting from the house afar,

Yet, it is not light itself,

Not the source, or a transmitter,

But makes the source visible.

 

The Golden Lion is not a lion,

But of pure gold inwardly and out,

Its essence remains,

Only the form has changed.

 

So the essence of God resides within,

A kingdom awaiting,

If only we can see with our hungry heart,

Not selfish eyes.

 

Build it on sand if you like to live on the beach,

But don’t expect it to bear the weight of life;

Remembering who decided to make this place home.

 

The rock is a foundation you can rely on,

Steady, supportive and designed to last for many generations.

For you to be one with all before and after.

 

Decide.

 

 

 

 

 

Inspired by:

Jäger, Willigis  (2013-04-04). Search for the Meaning of Life: Essays and Reflections on the Mystical Experience, Revised Edition (Kindle Location 3859). Liguori Publications. Kindle Edition.

 

 

Sorry for not listening,

For not being there when you asked me,

Sorry I disappointed you,

For when I made you sad again

 

So Sorry.

---

What is every act was not your own, solely.

Every decision not totally in your control.

Each response a little more reasoned than you expected.

Outcomes so much better than you thought.

 

What if?

 

 

 

Rest a while today,

Just for a moment or two.
And empty it all out.

 

 

The old man traveled many miles to find the old headstone,

Planted many years ago,

Almost now just barely visible,

In old recollections.

 

Now, searching he finds the place,

And streams of memory and neglect rush over him,

Like a deluge of empty time,

Which should have been spent together.

 

I AM sorry dad.

 

 

 

 

 

Each encounter is filled with a need to change,

To influence,

To share,

To know more,

To love,

To be with you.

 

When on a computer,

On the subway,

At the coffee shop,

In a classroom,

At an interview,

I am always hungry for you.

 

Wanting to connect,

For you to see not who I am,

But what I am,

What fills me,

With uncontrollable love for you.

 

Always.

Always the hunger is there.

 

Sure I hear you,

Yes, you mentioned it already,

No, I am not looking at my computer while you are talking,

<<Don’t you have something interesting to say?>>

 

Wow, is it that time,

I think we are done here.

Very interesting.

 

Next.

 

 

Like a new moon rising,

The Gospel comes to us like Spring,

Always fresh, ever new.

 

We can break out of the Gulag,

Keeping us chained to our material world,

Just by letting go.

 

And reading,

Smelling,

Swallowing,

The Word.

 

The mystery of the Trinity continues,

We know and feel the pain of rejection of your own people,

Physical pain has a limit,

Mental anguish less so,

Jesus endured both just for others.

 

So we might see the main ingredient of suffering and compassion.

Love.