January 12, 2018

All Our Yesterdays

Wind changes direction
this way, that way, it tells me that
All Our Yesterdays
are gone.
Blown out to sea, crashed into trees
Broken by speed and momentum,
Crushed beyond recognition

Light moves from East to West,
moving yet unchanged it tells me that
All Our Yesterdays
are gone, but still here
Heat and Cold rise and fall
Broken yet remaining still
Shadows of memory

Water flows and recedes
in and out, moving sand to bury
All Our Yesterdays
under the tidal pools filled with
Life. Life moving and changing over the
Impressions of Love

Earth stands still,
unmoved yet lifting up
All Our Yesterdays
to the light that gives
Life. Life now and yesterday and forever
Formed as an imprint of
You.

January 9, 2018

Kenosis 2

Emptiness
is what He desires
us to realize, our basic nature
of seeking to be filled is against
His will

Emptiness
is what we hate
we search and grasp at anything
that will relieve this feeling of
Wanting

Emptiness
is what He tried to teach us
that we cannot be filled
without draining our lives of
Everything

Emptiness
is what we need
freed from the falseness of ego and
desire, then we can receive what is
Real

Emptiness
as He emptied Himself
He was filled with the fullness
of Heaven, of the Father, of the
Spirit

Emptiness
brings us what we seek
the fullness of Love
that can only enter us as we pour out
Love

Kenosis

We are solid
We feel, we touch, we interact in a solid world
We grasp for solid things
but solid cannot enter solid without
Fire.

We are solid
But we take in liquid, something slightly
less than solid, but
not what we can grasp without
Tools.

We are liquid
But we must have a solid world
To grasp for liquid things,
things liquid cannot hold without help from
Solid.

We are liquid and solid
Yet we take in vapor at the interface
Of solid and liquid,
a thing neither can grasp on their own.
Air

We are Solid, Liquid, Vapor
Yet we grasp for something
That is none
of those, things we see only through clouded
Glass

We are none of these things
Yet we still grasp for that which is
None but Spirit.
that which exists in a different plane than things
Love

We are Love
Solid, Liquid, Vapor, yet also what is beyond these
Love
love of Love drives us to grasp what cannot be
Held

We are Love
Yet we cannot grasp ourselves, we cannot grasp the
Other, we can only feel
love slipping through our fingers, something that is
Spirit

We are Spirit
We thirst and hunger, yet we cannot be filled
Our Solid leaks, Our Liquid drains, Our Vapor
disappears into the emptiness, leaving us with nothing but
Spirit

We are Spirit, and
Solid, Liquid, Vapor, yet our physical
Nature cannot be satisfied with
seeking to be filled, we gain only by pouring out
Ourselves

We are Love
And God is Love, seeking to fill us
As we empty ourselves to fill
others we encounter in this dim world of
Love and Spirit

January 5, 2018

Freeloaders

They don't do anything. Nothing at all.
Except for making noise. They're good at that.
I fix them breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and all I get in
return is their noisy scolding when I feed them.

Some of them are communists; I know this from their red clothes.
A few wear a patriotic blue, and some wear the black flag of anarchy.
Most of them just wear dull browns and beiges, fleeing
when the more political ones begin to argue.

They all left after the storm; it was finally quiet for a while.
But, once they didn't need to be in the shelters anymore
they came back. But they didn't come back making
demands upon me.

They didn't come back until I had set up the buffet again.
And they brought more with them.
Ones with nerve enough to wear tuxedos and red hats.
Hadn't seen any of that crowd in quite awhile.

But, just think about them a bit. They don't work, but their Heavenly
Father feeds them. I'm neither Heavenly
nor Fatherly,
but still, I feed them every day.

Even though they scold and complain when I bring their food
I'd miss them. I'd miss getting to see their courtships and their children
new outfits as they grow, and I would miss their songs of praise to
Heaven when they think I'm not listening...

Someday...

When Peace, like a river, attends my way
I cannot recognize it.
The surface rolls and moves past, leaving me
Behind. Behind my blind eyes
I cannot see underneath
to the still silence at the bottom of the river.

I know that Peace is down there, but it is not
where I want to be
No Light, No Air, No Motion, just a cold
Peace.
I have to Breathe, See, Move, Exist in life's
Chaos.

Yet I seek Peace that I cannot grasp.
It is my promised reward, my Birthright,
my rest.
One day, It will come for me
and I will not refuse it.
It is our salvation.

When Peace, like a river, moves past me
every day, changing yet changeless
I know it is mine. It is yours.
It is our Birthright
We shall enjoy it
Together.

She came to me...


She came to me in a dream,
but she wasn't there.
She had been there, but she was already gone when we were talking.
We talked about her fun, her laugh, her love,
and how we missed her.
Memories crashing down upon us from a
Time that was another world for all of us.

She had come to you in this same dream,
but she wasn't there
and yet she was still with us.
We knew from her presence that things would
be alright, that we would be alright.
Memories washing over us, of many worlds
reminding us how she still loves us.

We laid down the books filled with memories
and walked down the beach, our hands
in hers.