Tag Archives: The Message

Doubt

by

 Day One
napofeature3

 

DoubtRiparian

I stand on riparian ground
that place between
two more certain realities,
liminal,
solitary but exhaling
into One, the way of being.

When I look for you,
feel where you should be,
listen for your words
that have faded from my space,
I cry out so you will hear me,
come back to take my hand
and dance again.

Remembering you are Source.
I still myself, rest assured
that you are Always.

Renegade partners, we
One ourselves,
a geography of
trust and transformation,
an ocean of fidelity where
there is no room for doubt.

.
.

.

Author’s Note:

Singularity. Alone. Renegade.

It is important to remember I am not the same person I was.

As I stand in that place within what was and what is and will be, a liminal time and space, I must remember I am never alone.

I am looping over and over again who I was, with who I am creating, and who I will become.

All of me is where everything exists at once, but not yet fully understood.

Take my hand, we are renegades, all of us One and Beloved, in this great dance.

There is no room for doubt.

Lexanne

 

Once more I must credit Grounded by Diana Butler Bass for the inspiration. I’ve borrowed some words and, most definitely, ideas. Her book is transforming my life. Much, much gratitude.

 

 

Jesus said, “So, you believe because you’ve seen with your own eyes. Even better blessings are in store for those who believe without seeing.” John 20:29, The Message

 

My place is the Placeless, my trace is the Traceless ;
‘Tis neither body nor soul, for I belong to the soul of the Beloved.
I have put duality away, I have seen that the two worlds are one;
One I seek, One I know, One I see, One I call
~ Rumi

 

 

 

Welcome!

Happy first day of National Poetry Month!!!!!

Today I celebrate by sharing the full reflection from my weekly newsletter – Journey/lex.

I would love to share this weekly journey with you. You can subscribe here.

Tomorrow I will post more information how, if you are in the continental U.S., you can win a free copy of my book of poetry, Filters.

Hope to see you tomorrow!

Integer of Creation

by

I.Moon

The moon hung, a bittersweet glow
cupped against midnight blue behind
boney arms of our grande dame maple,
whose leaves never turn red in fall,
only yellow then brown on fallow grass.

As I watched,
just past a new day’s first hour,
I could almost see her luminous
crescent rock back and forth drawing
my eye upward, higher, a need to tilt
my head back and forth to discern
Your gift through lacy silhouette
branches standing guard between
me and Eternity.

But she pointed me to it,
to a god always present,
maybe in a conflicting place
from one night to the next,
but always there, Jupiter,
a thunderbolt-bright comfort
knowing once and again
he would meet me.

I am created no more
or less perfect than these.
I hold within myself the same
wonder of stars and moon
and trees rooted deeply into earth.
I grow and change, not staying
in one place, although I have lived
in this same place all my life.

II.

When the world groans
under sorrow made
by hands of stone…

Not stone that changes
the course of rivers.
Not stone that greets
a wanderer along her craggy pass.
These stones are as Spirit filled
as every heart that beats…

But when the world groans
from counterfeit hands
made of false stone that cannot see
within themselves the utter sweetness
of the Beloved, nor the Beloved’s
consummate sweetness in souls
they stone, I feel pieces explode until
all that is left is blackness, a dark hole
so profound not even Jupiter
could spark a flame.

From where I stand
I must be what I am first made,
gentle light, devoted lover,
precious consecration of You.

My hands, made of Your passion,
must open
to each integer of Creation.

I cry out like thunder in the desert,
groan and writhe,
but know You will hear my prayer
and open our eyes
to our manmade
stone hands of annihilation.

May our prayers transfigure
our false hands
back into cupped hands
ready to receive Your timber.

.

.

.

If you would like more on this poem, please join my weekly reflection at Journey/lex. It is a weekly newsletter that arrives in your e-mail in-box usually on Saturdays.

Thank you,
Lexanne