11 Months

It's been eleven months since something was posted here. Eleven months. Hard ones. Good ones. Challenging ones. Ones full of the obscuring mists of uncertainty and sideline endeavors while waiting... waiting... not so patiently for freedom.

I feel like a taughtly drawn arrow yearning to fly and find its mark!

But if I am an arrow, my smith has left a fletch askew. So sharpened is my point! So straight the shaft! But this fletch vexes me... How can I fly straight and true with a fletch askew? Yet still I am drawn taught and eager to soar, rising and falling with the archer's breath as the mists swirl and slowly dissipate before us. waiting... waiting... not so patiently for freedom.

Two Vignettes

I feel it...
like some sort of inward creep
THICK & SOLID

not pushed by desire
just habit

numbing
deadening
clouding

STOP!
_________________

Oh gentle ache
Tell me your name
Oh tender pain
All mine
All mine
Lost loved one
still heart break
to the rim
Rising
Rising
But it won't overflow

Split

I am the tree
Split by the Word
Shot like Lightening
Bone and Marrow
Soul and Spirit
Phased

I am the tree
Splayed all to see
Calm and frightening
Light and Dark
Turmoil and Tumult
Assuaged

I am the tree
Dipped in the blood
Like hysop brushed
Post and Lintel
Red right and center
Page

Gethsemane

I am sad about God's call
The loss of what I have
Yet briefest thought
of what lies ahead
and His constant care
brings me peace.

So sad and peaceful,
moving... Moving...

I long to bring them with me
I know the destination
my heart rends for them
with them
their hardship is my own
their pain pierces me

Father, hear my plea
Gethsemane

Two Divine Comedies

I had a conversation this week that prompted me to pick up a few books from the library.

I am down to the 7th circle of hell in inferno. Talk about stunning imagery. Dante's poetry makes the putrid depths of hell viscerally real. I am excitedly anticipating paradiso. The nagging annoyance in all of this is the time required to put images to paper. If I could let you look inside the images of my mind, what would you say? The demands of everyday life make the time to create a physical representation of mental imagery hard to find.

The second book I was prompted to pick up is The Princess Bride.


I have been retelling the story to my sons from memory for the last week at bedtime. It has been remarkable watching their enthralled faces and disbelief at some of the plot twists. I shared my story telling adventure with a friend and he said I should definitely read the original. I never have. Though I love the movie. I can't wait!


INCONCEIVABLE!

The dust of the earth

Settling dust gathered in heaps

erected lumped and crumbling

Pushed so by the makers hand

particular, present, stumbling

Yearning for a greater sense

enveloped, set ablaze

Blown up in a swirling dance

toward universal raised

Glinting rainbow sparkle

the Son shines radiant through

Each particular speck reflects

His radiance anew

Similar Things from Dissimilar Sources

Similar things from dissimilar sources
Soul in constant search of purchase
Hold on to something...
Wrong!!! Let Go.
It is the clasping grasping fear
that blocks the ear to hear
Cling to rock and twig and branch
Rely on muscles strained and cramped

He lets go of his purchse and relies on the wind
arms outstretched he feels it invelop him
and he looks back at his rock
as it grows smaller and less significant with distance...
With a chuckle he thinks,
"What a funny thing to cling to."

Like dust it dissolves and carried away
The wind has his faith.
Weightless, backward and the sting of loss.
As he begins, his purchase within himself is turned to dust
it dissolves and carried away
The wind has his faith.

Weightless forward now he sees his destiny
looming in a fog of atmosphere
The Flames!
Like a meteor to earth he burns:
the dust is carried away.
The face of the wind and his outstretched soul
reaching through the flame
unchanged in Spirit
purified in mix

I believe in you
to pull me through

Take my hand and find your purchase
This rock is unchanging
and these muscles do not tire!

Fascination Frankenstein

The man on the road listens to your impression
and sees himself within.
He sees where you were blind,
He holds the corner piece.

Light not taste or smell
simply touch, see and hear
no sounding grape our
tasting yellow hybrid brings
dissimilar distraction
and miscued interaction

unintentional
quite exceptional?
no... but somehow yes
Fascination Frankenstein!
What is it we combine?

The smell of moonlight
The glow of gravy
Perversion of proper position
Connection from intuition
Veiled in wind...
A language long forgotten
and a lesson still to be learned
Veiled in wind...

Comes the Rosetta stone, The answer!
Laplace! Get the answer!
The Reason! Long hand...
see where you went wrong
The resolution and absolution...
My God It's the Man!

The Truth

We fight, we rest
We run, we weep
We grind ourselves up
We turn and turn and turn

He scolds, He holds
He comforts, He molds
He heals, He persists
He stays firm and firm and firm

We learn