Be with me when night covers Earth
so complete, the deep so dark
we must touch to find our way
We cannot be for eternity
but let our hungry lips part
for just a moment
mouths wide open
for the firebird sun to rest
upon our tongues
Let us pleasure in one another
until the Eternal One
lifts us once again from the
essence of our dreams
I want to feel your heart beat next to mine,
my breast against yours held in a breath
when time stops and all I can hear is the
metered rhythm of two beats now one.
I want to feel your hand holding mine,
slender fingers entwined within gentle brave
ones easy enough to find when only stars
light the heavens but game to venture far.
I want to walk with you next to me
our feet in step to music rising from our
souls, leading us in dance to the song of
life and laughter, in gratitude of being.
I want you.
I forgot my age the other day as I
crossed the playground on my way
to class. No one was looking. The wooden
frame edging around, gravel filled, called
out to me as it had long ago.
I stepped onto its narrow ledge
one foot in front of the other.
I traced its trail around to the end,
back to the very beginning.
I didn’t fall, although my arms
shot out in preparation for flight
when my confidence waned for
a moment or two. No one was watching
under the grey day sky. Good thing,
I thought. They would think me crazy.
There was enough newly formed spirit
in me to give a little leap as I left the
timeworn timber. I was pleased no twists or
breaks occurred . Why did I ever worry?
I spent my youth meticulously walking
around and round on a splintery ledge
afraid of a plunge onto the rough blacktop,
scrapping my knee at the very least,
being broken to pieces at the worst.
I stayed the course much to long
unable to discern a safe way away.
In all those years, I never fell. I held on
tight. Refused to change. Resolute not to
let go. But as I grew old the game lost its
fancy. Rigid rule could no longer contain me.
Green verdant grass, sweet scented
breath, pure cool water invited me near.
I simply stepped off the black-and-white
merry-go-round, leaving behind counterfeit
passion. I didn’t break. Only the bind of
false words, misleading tongues, spilt
onto the viscous hot tar.
I trusted the light down deep inside,
an infinitesimal whisper, just go.
I honored myself and the voice I knew not
and left without a blueprint in hand.
I walk a new path, one not yet forged. I
make a new way with Him. You walk along side
me, not above or below, but as one and
His beloved. Why did I ever worry?
A new blueprint in hand.
Only one rule: Love.
The Spirit of Truth
15-17 “If you love me, show it by doing what I’ve told you. I will talk to the Father, and he’ll provide you another Friend so that you will always have someone with you. This Friend is the Spirit of Truth. The godless world can’t take him in because it doesn’t have eyes to see him, doesn’t know what to look for. But you know him already because he has been staying with you, and will even be in you!
18-20 “I will not leave you orphaned. I’m coming back. In just a little while the world will no longer see me, but you’re going to see me because I am alive and you’re about to come alive. At that moment you will know absolutely that I’m in my Father, and you’re in me, and I’m in you.
On the table sits a weathered bowl,
chipped with cracks not so deep it shatters
but lets one know of its fragility,
and, yet, a reminder of eternal refuge
Colors composed with discerning eye,
correct dimensions shaped by a perfect hand
sized to hold the right amount,
a comfortable fit
Inside, cupped in this gentle round,
royal grapes, sensuous pears,
tart apples, honeyed sweet peaches,
a legacy of spirit endowed
Ripe and luscious, each a rare offering
and inside a seed lingers, silent
waiting for the light
What continues to amaze me about all traditions of faith is what we have in common.
In my journey these past two years, shedding the shackles of the Roman Catholic Church, being given the freedom to embrace what has always been inside of me but afraid to acknowledge in fear of…well, I don’t know what, looking to other faith traditions and embracing what they have to offer, I feel a grand freedom and rollick in the wonder of the beauty of our souls, the gift we have been given. (How’s that for a run-on sentence?)
Thank you to those who are walking with me. I am so very grateful.
For today’s light, I honor Fr. Scott Jenkins at A Church of the Holy Family, ECC in Aurora, CO for his guidance and wisdom as we study the Gospel of John. It continues to present itself to me at every turn, every day.
The Message (MSG)
9 The Life-Light was the real thing:
Every person entering Life
he brings into Light.
Art thou in darkness? Mind it not, for if thou dost it will feed thee more. But stand still, and act not, and wait in patience, till Light arises out of Darkness and leads thee.
And, of course, to Reverend Kathleen Gorman and the Blue Mountain Center for Meditation and my weekly satsang as follow Eknath Easwaran and Passage Mediation.
If you go on working with the light available, you will meet your Master, as he himself will be seeking you.
– Ramana Maharshi
Raindrops quiver along
arms of budded limbs
risking a fall in spring’s
bulge and fashion
each reflection into
a new truth
If I could step inside
an aqueous pouch
I’d see the world
with new eyes
Like being born once and
once again I’d see it slant,
find new meaning
expunge the old
Powerful storm today. Rain. Hail. Tornados. Emily Dickinson and the Gospel of John while waiting in the basement.
Ideas meld in such odd ways. Playing with this one. I will keep working.
Tell all the truth but tell it slant — (1263)
By Emily Dickinson / The Poetry Foundation
Tell all the truth but tell it slant –
Success in Circuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight
The Truth’s superb surprise
As Lightning to the Children eased
With explanation kind
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind —
John 3 (NIV) / The Bible Gateway
Jesus Teaches Nicodemus
3 Now there was a Pharisee, a man named Nicodemus who was a member of the Jewish ruling council. 2 He came to Jesus at night and said, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God. For no one could perform the signs you are doing if God were not with him.”
3 Jesus replied, “Very truly I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God unless they are born again.”
4 “How can someone be born when they are old?” Nicodemus asked. “Surely they cannot enter a second time into their mother’s womb to be born!”
5 Jesus answered, “Very truly I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless they are born of water and the Spirit. 6 Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirit. 7 You should not be surprised at my saying, ‘You must be born again.’ 8 The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.”
9 “How can this be?” Nicodemus asked.
10 “You are Israel’s teacher,” said Jesus, “and do you not understand these things? 11 Very truly I tell you, we speak of what we know, and we testify to what we have seen, but still you people do not accept our testimony. 12 I have spoken to you of earthly things and you do not believe; how then will you believe if I speak of heavenly things? 13 No one has ever gone into heaven except the one who came from heaven—the Son of Man. 14 Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, 15 that everyone who believes may have eternal life in him.”
16 For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. 17 For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. 18 Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe stands condemned already because they have not believed in the name of God’s one and only Son. 19 This is the verdict: Light has come into the world, but people loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil.20 Everyone who does evil hates the light, and will not come into the light for fear that their deeds will be exposed. 21 But whoever lives by the truth comes into the light, so that it may be seen plainly that what they have done has been done in the sight of God.
I hear my footsteps pad on the sidewalk long
before children trample their way to school.
In early morning air I am almost alone in this
suburban maze, silence not often found here.
Bremen’s claws, too long because his fear of me
too close, holding too tight, no room for escape, scuff
along the cement. His eyes catch the flight of a
neighbor rabbit unsure of his motives. He has none.
We walk in silence not changing anything in our
path. We breathe sweet air cleaned of daily
chores past, ready to embrace the new once again.
I long to know You, your smile, your breath. In these
early jaunts, I can almost feel your touch. I know You
are there, You told me so.
You are in the filling of my lungs, the fullness in my eyes.
You walk with me in sweet word, gentle prayer,
song waiting to be heard, a tug at the end of a leash.
You are there. You told me so.
Did you notice the moon last night, not quite yet full?
I saw this not quite perfect orb as I retired from
the warmth of friends. I stood on the sidewalk looking
up at its radiance. I asked others, deep in conversation,
Do you see it? Don’t you see? There I distinguished
it’s brilliance, surrounded by voices chatting of the
drive home, laundry, tomorrow’s trials. As they spoke
I considered the gracious round, a welcome guise
of something bigger than ourselves. One doesn’t
need to save contemplation of such splendor for
times more appropriate. One needn’t wait to stand
on green growing grass in sweet scented meadows,
on high rocky peaks or near ocean’s waves. Grey
cracked sidewalks and shifting asphalt balance my
anatomy quite nicely. My city feet walk on potholed
blacktop as the ancients walked on their hallowed
ground under moon’s luminosity. I rise to the sky
widening my berth to inhale the gentle round’s
lambency. I scan the vast backdrop, take a
moment to behold. Did you catch it as you left?
The same celestial ball that he once witnessed
as he slipped into sleep, the same one noticed.
As I was leaving class last evening, the almost full moon was high in the sky. It was magnificent. We were anxious to leave, but we acknowledged its presence.
In class we are studying the Gospel of John. That evening the word “see” was discussed. Uisng the book, Mystical Christianity by John A. Sanford, we explored different meanings “see” in context of the gospel and came to a deeper understanding of the Word.
The word “see” and many of its ways of explaining itself, and the moon gave me my inspiration.
If you listen closely, in
dark star flecked night, in
stillness that only the slowing down of day
past bedtime almost to dawn can bring.
If you listen, there
the wisp of wisdom resides
without borders of brazen light to illuminate,
fill with words, confuse with noise,
clutter with icons.
A gentle voice, strong enough to bear
your sorrow, hold you near.
A lydian stone that calls your name
amidst the storm, hears your cry
in deep running waters,
waits the turn
through teeming torrents.
pulling you into the wormhole,
the passageway between night and day.
I am taking a class on the New Testament. We are studying the Gospel of John. This is not one of my favorite gospels at the moment. Maybe it rings too much of Roman rules and creeds and regulations. At least right now that is how I see it.
Our Padre sent some readings to ponder as we delve into this gospel. My soul chose the selection from Wisdom.
9 With you is wisdom, she who knows your works
and was present when you made the world;
she understands what is pleasing in your sight
and what is right according to your commandments.
10 Send her forth from the holy heavens,
and from the throne of your glory send her,
that she may labor at my side,
and that I may learn what is pleasing to you.
11 For she knows and understands all things,
and she will guide me wisely in my actions
and guard me with her glory.
12 Then my works will be acceptable,
and I shall judge your people justly,
and shall be worthy of the throne[a] of my father.
Maybe I will hear.
Tonight rain scented air
greeted me as I walked under your gaze
It was not an opening of the skies
downpour rushing over curbs into gutters
brimming the sewers
Nor was it a light sprinkling
glistening petals of blooms closing for the night
content with their daily engagement
It was simply rain-scented air
nudging me to think of you
Not a loud bellowing voice warning of misfortune
if rules are broken
Nor a constant tapping on my shoulder
making me second guess my labor
It was simply you showing me a bit of your soul,
your pleasure in my genesis,
blessing your beloved one.
I am not a rule follower.
I hide it well.
I am learning that it is okay not to follow rules.