King Beetle on a Coconut Estate

As the Moon rose and the hour grew late, the day help on a Coconut estate
raked up the dry leaves that fell dead from the Trees, which they burned in a pile by the lake.
The Beetle King summoned his men, and from the top of the Rhododendron stem: 
"Calling all volunteers who can carry back here, the Great Mystery's been lit once again."
One Beetle emerged from the crowd in a fashionable abdomen shroud, said: 
"I'm a Professor, you see, that's no mystery to me; I'll be back soon, successful and proud."
But when the Beetle Professor returned he crawled on all six, as his wings had been burned, 
and described to the finest detail all he'd learned. There was neither a light nor a heat in his words.


The deeply dissatisfied King climbed the same stem to announce the same thing, 
but in his second appeal sought to sweeten the deal with a silver Padparadscha ring.
The Lieutenant stepped out from the line as he lassoed his thorax with twine,
thinking: "I'm stronger and braver and I'll earn the King's favor. One day all he has will be mine!"
But for all the Lieutenant's conceit he, too, returned singed and admitting defeat: 
"I had no choice, please believe, but retreat; It was bright as the sun, but with ten times the heat!
And it cracked like the thunder and bloodshot my eyes, though smothered with sticks it advanced undeterred.
Carelessly cast an ash cloud to the sky, my Lord, like a flock of dark, vanishing birds."

The Beetle King slammed down his fist: "Your flowery description's no better than his!
We sent for the Great Light and you bring us this?
We didn't ask what it seems like, we asked what it is!"
His Majesty's hour at last has drawn nigh!
The elegant Queen took her leave from his side, 
without understanding but without asking why, gathered their Kids to come bid their goodbyes.


And the father explained: "You've been somewhat deceived.
We've all called me your dad, but your True Dad's not me.
I lay next to your mom and your forms were conceived, your Father is the Life within all that you see.
"He fills up the ponds as He empties the clouds, holds without hands and He speaks without sounds, 
provides us with the Cow's waste and coconuts to eat, giving one that nice salt-taste and the other a sweet.
Sends the black carriage the day Death shows its face, thinning our numbers with Kindness and Grace.
And just as a Flower and its Fragrance are one so must each of you and your Father become.
"Now distribute my scepter, my crown and my throne and all we've known as 'wealth' to the poor and alone."

Without further hesitation, without looking back home, the King flew headlong into the blazing unknown!

And as the Smoke King curled higher and higher, the troops, flying loops 'round the telephone wires, 
they said: "Our Beloved's not dead, but His Highness instead has been utterly changed into Fire!"

Why not be utterly changed into Fire?
Why not be utterly changed into Fire?
Why not be utterly changed into Fire?
Why not be utterly changed into Fire?


---mewithoutYou

april?

where does the wind go?
the fleeting feeling of respite;
in the end i think it best to make believe you know fully,
even if only until you know in part.

where do dreams go?
the clearing clouds of consciousness;
in my my heart, i reach out to grasp them or take hold,
of what they ask me to take hold of.

where does time go?
the present pain of its passage;
unseen, unknown, until the halting and the looking back,
even if to catch a glimpse of memory.

in searching, let me find;
in hearing, let me know.
in sleeping, let me rest;
in walking, let me go.

april showers

cold hands on the table
wet clothes on the floor
dry bones rattling softly
fresh wind through the door

dark clouds on the highway
gray rain on the ground
clear water pooling
thick thunder the sound

i thought ---- was in the rain
but the showers that came
only provided more questions
and left me wondering
why
i
am
the
way
i
am

everything is music

Everything is Music from Darcy Wood on Vimeo.

april

here in the cruelest of months
the air has come alive once more
the cracks in the sidewalk begin cracking
as if the real world was desperately trying to break up through the ground
the smell of adventure comes with the overhanging grey clouds
heavy with rain

the unfamiliar is calling with a voice welcome
as the sound of the tracks two miles from a childhood house
or the laughter of a close friend
the sweet unknown
as water running
down
from
the mountain of abundant life
caught among the ripples

freedom lives in the mist and the morning light,
and dies by the evening
thank G-d for the mercy of the sunrise
new every morning

run away;
call it what you will;
but this heart is on its way
to pumping new blood
into old veins;
these lungs on their way
to breathing new breath;
these eyes, so tired, on their way
to setting with the sun in a land of a new light;
these feet on their way
to stepping with the eager rhythm of new movement;
these ears on their way
to hearing words never heard
before or since
and so it begins

this heart on its way
to pumping new blood
into old veins
here in the cruelest of months

g.

g. from J. Xavier Velasco on Vimeo.

the sun came and went too quickly

is there another chance for another try?
i want to meet you all over again
walk through the gardens and become your friend
talk of the future, and what are our plans
talk of the past, and seeing G-d's hand
Reach for the heavens and discover your arms
look into your eyes and find the stars

O, the Wonder, the Mystery
O, the Soaring, the History
O, the Peace, the Fire
O, the Love, so much higher

'For everything there is a season'
Do I need to search,
or are you a reason
to let go,
    closed eyes,
         and jump in?