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
5.07.2010
5.06.2010
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.
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.
4.24.2010
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
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
4.21.2010
4.20.2010
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
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
4.17.2010
4.03.2010
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?
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?
3.29.2010
my body knows what roads it's walked
though sometimes i do not
through heavens gates, and earthly chains
from feasting, now to rot
what now i find in silence
let me have no other
for from time untold to time began
the world is burst asunder
from sweat of brow to firm of feet
i stand on what i've seen
but more, i think, i've come to be
the places i have been
though sometimes i do not
through heavens gates, and earthly chains
from feasting, now to rot
what now i find in silence
let me have no other
for from time untold to time began
the world is burst asunder
from sweat of brow to firm of feet
i stand on what i've seen
but more, i think, i've come to be
the places i have been
3.22.2010
fall around the center
bringing knees to order
laid out on the winter
bring us to the Dancer
if ever we were better
the wind was ever bitter
out from places lower
laid out on the water
if Grace found a debtor
we found her in the fetter
dancing 'round the center
chains falling all the louder
melting snows of winter
pouring into water
the sun is shining brighter
with Grace no longer lesser
the Dancer and the sinner
are spinning 'round together
bringing knees to order
laid out on the winter
bring us to the Dancer
if ever we were better
the wind was ever bitter
out from places lower
laid out on the water
if Grace found a debtor
we found her in the fetter
dancing 'round the center
chains falling all the louder
melting snows of winter
pouring into water
the sun is shining brighter
with Grace no longer lesser
the Dancer and the sinner
are spinning 'round together
2.20.2010
safe and secure from all alarms
midnight madness sale, house of james, abbotsford, bc. december 5th, 2009. 9:52 p.m.
why do i not feel His presence here tonight?
why can't i shake the feeling that there is something horribly, horribly wrong? it has to be past these good christian's bedtime. at least the little ones. as the crowd mingles about around me, buying coffee, books, music, dvd's, no doubt stocking up for the upcoming celebration of christmas, i am unsettled. more than that, my heart is troubled. i can't quite put my finger on it. there is a subtle, underlying sense of...of what? it is not mediocrity alone, though i cannot deny the smell of it. the man behind the microphone seems almost as disinterested in his music as i am, if not more so. the aisles are filled with people, shuffling behind one another, smiling at the babys, sharing a word or two in hurried, uninterested conversation.
here there is fellowship devoid of community.
looking around the room, i feel as though i recognize every person i see, though i do not know any of them.
this is a familiar crowd.
the christian-bookstore/coffee shop crowd. here in this, as it was put to me recently, "coffee shop for people who are afraid to take their bibles out in a 'real' coffee shop." the bookstore for those who want assurance of the safe-faith content in the books they purchase.
this is a familiar crowd.
glancing across each of the tables surrounding me, i see the security in each pair of eyes. i hear the safety in every voice.
the timid timbre that comforts the countless cares of the world
and calls the calloused countryside into conformity.
o, great Shaper of my will,
will i find Your will in the willing hearts of we the wayward?
Will I find the Voice
in the throats of we who through thougtless threats of theorized theophany
have thrown our voices to the wind?
have we worshiped here tonight?
here as a gathered body of believers, a fellowship of fellow saints;
are we effecting change?
are we changed?
do we even desire it?
are we aware it is needed?
this feels all too familiar.
how is this going into the world and making disciples?
how is this feeding the poor? comforting the lonely?
where is the restorative power of the Kingdom?
here we are, gathered together again.
the conference of the like-minded. pleasantries. warm words. mindless messages.
plastic plants. whimsical worship. Christ-crazed consumption. fenced-in faith.
slumbering seekers.
Awake, o sleeper. Arise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.
Turn over the Tomlin-tables. Flip the Rob-Bell-Bookshelves.
i can't seem to stand Christians tonight.
is this the way of the cross?
surrounded by insincerity?
Father, open my eyes; open my heart.
let my heart be always and only after Yours.
what is on Your heart?
hold me accountable for my thoughts, my words, my actions.
let me be Yours.
why do i not feel His presence here tonight?
why can't i shake the feeling that there is something horribly, horribly wrong? it has to be past these good christian's bedtime. at least the little ones. as the crowd mingles about around me, buying coffee, books, music, dvd's, no doubt stocking up for the upcoming celebration of christmas, i am unsettled. more than that, my heart is troubled. i can't quite put my finger on it. there is a subtle, underlying sense of...of what? it is not mediocrity alone, though i cannot deny the smell of it. the man behind the microphone seems almost as disinterested in his music as i am, if not more so. the aisles are filled with people, shuffling behind one another, smiling at the babys, sharing a word or two in hurried, uninterested conversation.
here there is fellowship devoid of community.
looking around the room, i feel as though i recognize every person i see, though i do not know any of them.
this is a familiar crowd.
the christian-bookstore/coffee shop crowd. here in this, as it was put to me recently, "coffee shop for people who are afraid to take their bibles out in a 'real' coffee shop." the bookstore for those who want assurance of the safe-faith content in the books they purchase.
this is a familiar crowd.
glancing across each of the tables surrounding me, i see the security in each pair of eyes. i hear the safety in every voice.
the timid timbre that comforts the countless cares of the world
and calls the calloused countryside into conformity.
o, great Shaper of my will,
will i find Your will in the willing hearts of we the wayward?
Will I find the Voice
in the throats of we who through thougtless threats of theorized theophany
have thrown our voices to the wind?
have we worshiped here tonight?
here as a gathered body of believers, a fellowship of fellow saints;
are we effecting change?
are we changed?
do we even desire it?
are we aware it is needed?
this feels all too familiar.
how is this going into the world and making disciples?
how is this feeding the poor? comforting the lonely?
where is the restorative power of the Kingdom?
here we are, gathered together again.
the conference of the like-minded. pleasantries. warm words. mindless messages.
plastic plants. whimsical worship. Christ-crazed consumption. fenced-in faith.
slumbering seekers.
Awake, o sleeper. Arise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.
Turn over the Tomlin-tables. Flip the Rob-Bell-Bookshelves.
i can't seem to stand Christians tonight.
is this the way of the cross?
surrounded by insincerity?
Father, open my eyes; open my heart.
let my heart be always and only after Yours.
what is on Your heart?
hold me accountable for my thoughts, my words, my actions.
let me be Yours.
who is truly great
oh, how quickly passes away the glory of the world!
he is truly great who has great charity
he is truly great who is little in his own eyes
he is truly wise who looks upon all earthly things as dung
that he may gain Christ
and he truly is well learned who does the will of G-d
and renounces his own will
blessed are the single-hearted,
for they shall have much peace
we are too much taken up with our own passions,
and too anxious about transitory things
and seldom do we perfectly overcome so much as one vice,
nor are we inflamed with the desire to improve every day ;
and therefore we remain cold and lukewarm
if we were perfectly dead to ourselves,
and no wise entangled in our inner hearts,
then might we be able to relish things divine,
and experience something of heavenly contemplation.
-thomas à kempis
he is truly great who has great charity
he is truly great who is little in his own eyes
he is truly wise who looks upon all earthly things as dung
that he may gain Christ
and he truly is well learned who does the will of G-d
and renounces his own will
blessed are the single-hearted,
for they shall have much peace
we are too much taken up with our own passions,
and too anxious about transitory things
and seldom do we perfectly overcome so much as one vice,
nor are we inflamed with the desire to improve every day ;
and therefore we remain cold and lukewarm
if we were perfectly dead to ourselves,
and no wise entangled in our inner hearts,
then might we be able to relish things divine,
and experience something of heavenly contemplation.
-thomas à kempis
2.19.2010
the soul is guided by faith
"in a dark night
with anxious love inflamed
o happy lot!
forth unobserved i went
my house being now at rest
in darkness and in safety
by the secret ladder, disguised,
o happy lot!
in darkness and concealment,
my house being now at rest
on the road to union with G-d the night of faith shall guide me
faith tells us of things we have never seen, and cannot come to know by our natural senses
the light of faith is like the light of the sun which blinds our eyes because its light is stronger than our powers of sight. so the light of faith transcends our comprehension"
-st. john of the cross
1.29.2010
coffee shop wall announcement
december 5th, 2009
if where my heart is, there my treasure liesthen there's treasure buried in her eyes
her eyes the windows to my soul
you see i've always been told, i guess i've always just known
the road to love is a land-locked journey in search of the sea
for to see with the eyes of the heart is to breathe
a new breath
bid a new goodbye
lie between a new truth
beneath a new moon
behind an old tune
weary notes will waft through the wilderness until my wandering wanes
the meandering monday movement of melodies meshed with melancholy
finding in the verbose veneration of the vermilion sunrise, an undivided divinity
the clouds rolled back as a scroll
that reads like a coffee shop wall announcement
unheard and unknown,
"if you love her, let it show
if you want her, let her go"
and again,
"you see, it was never really about you anyway
in your search for self you found Someone greater than your heart
and that should have changed your mind."
open the gates
am i really that disgusted by humanity?
the inane conversations surrounding me have been relegated
to a dull buzzing ache at the nape of my neck
drilling ever closer to the top of my head
where is the Spirit?
where is the Love?
faith is on sale tonight
half price
is there a thread of life in this madness
convene, confer, conspire
let us build our kingdom, in our own image
don't forget to fly the flag of the flaccid, cautiously cross-stitched cross
if we are not safe, we are not saved
O Lord, ignite the amber embers of our ever fading fires
the worship was too loud last night, i couldn't hear the Voice
that sometimes comes in whispers, but often not a choice
fill up your basket, 12 times over
come buy a lifted spirit, and perhaps a change of heart
in the name of the Almighty
Open the Gates, and let the people in
the inane conversations surrounding me have been relegated
to a dull buzzing ache at the nape of my neck
drilling ever closer to the top of my head
where is the Spirit?
where is the Love?
faith is on sale tonight
half price
is there a thread of life in this madness
convene, confer, conspire
let us build our kingdom, in our own image
don't forget to fly the flag of the flaccid, cautiously cross-stitched cross
if we are not safe, we are not saved
O Lord, ignite the amber embers of our ever fading fires
the worship was too loud last night, i couldn't hear the Voice
that sometimes comes in whispers, but often not a choice
fill up your basket, 12 times over
come buy a lifted spirit, and perhaps a change of heart
in the name of the Almighty
Open the Gates, and let the people in
1.12.2010
december 3rd, 2007
i am a shining example of ignorance and apathy and
don't you know i know it
when i walk through a field
all i see is a field
when really you were there all along
listening to my nomadic songs
my ambling poems
as i babble on and on
of my longing to be strong
unsure how to carry on
and i wander as i wonder aloud,
"if i love her, do i really have to let her go?
and if i do
and if i have to
how in G-d's name can i go on?"
only in G-d's name can i go on
my love is a rose
and ever as it grows
so grow the thorns
don't you know i know it
when i walk through a field
all i see is a field
when really you were there all along
listening to my nomadic songs
my ambling poems
as i babble on and on
of my longing to be strong
unsure how to carry on
and i wander as i wonder aloud,
"if i love her, do i really have to let her go?
and if i do
and if i have to
how in G-d's name can i go on?"
only in G-d's name can i go on
my love is a rose
and ever as it grows
so grow the thorns
1.02.2010
so this is the new year?
watch your feet!
change is coming!
here for the first time i've lost my head
my heart
my bed
lies in unrest
and for the rest of the year
not at ease
but at peace
[honestly]
i've seen the face behind your eyes
i think i saw it first in the evening
under the Talmud sky
i threw a snowball in the river
your dog followed me home
even though i told him to run away
a music box at midnight
woke me up beside my bed
i held your name, you held your head
and i can still remember the night when
you said it was no longer easy
to wake up or fall asleep
no matter what the time was
is this love in your head?
or a feeling in your chest?
can you know that you know?
or will you just to your best,
to live honestly
i got a message from the LORD
he said "watch your feet! change is coming,
like the wind under the door"
so with my bags packed and ready
i waited watching by the window
for something that was out of place
you came around again
is this love in our bed?
or just in the books we've read
should we say we saw things clearly?
or was this all just a failed attempt,
to live honestly
well the last time i saw you, you were free
and i hope you still live, live abundantly
my dad went soft when he heard the news
and my sisters in the kitchen singing the blues
but my mom found hope in the words he said,
"today, today, listen here my friend,
today, today, you will be with me
today, today, you will be with me"
is there love in his hands?
like the love thats in his feet
there was love in his mouth
when he made for us a way,
to live honestly
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