a query deep in the woods…

5 03 2017

little-river_rocks

I came upon a query deep in the woods. . .

deep within me –

“What is it, God, would You have me do with my life?”

I heard from among the trees a silent whisper,

“Love Me.”

 

My desire and ambition,

not trusting the Truth in the whisper,

pressed for a process –

“God. How do I love You?”

 

From the heart of the woods I heard,

“Be like that stream, there.

It just flows –

a flow that will make it to the sea some day.”

 

“Be like that rock, there.

It just is . . .

hosting life – busy ants, silent moss –

offering itself.”

 

From I AM, I breathed a resonant breath of invitation. . .

just be with Love already within

loving who I am;

loving where I am;

Loving I AM.

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Today . . .

9 11 2016

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Today –

when it feels like diversity wanes;

when it seems like divisiveness reigns . . .

 

Today –

when there is a Grand Canyon schism between joy and sadness;

when anger and rage lace our language . . .

 

Today –

when systems enmesh us;

when relationships are broken;

when fear simmers beneath our soul . . .

 

 

Rain falls and nourishes the earth.

Light seeps through clouds and mist.

Meadow seeds sustains a sparrow just feet away.

Music that soothed my soul yesterday, soothes it today.

And the Truth that created us from the One, is the Truth that holds us as one.

 

To breathe in Love;

to breathe out Love;

to be embraced by Love;

to embrace with Love –

this is our invitation.

It has been.

It is at this very moment.

It will be tomorrow.

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Shame

19 08 2016

CSC_0061edited

Shame ON you:

A shadowed birthright for the unknowing;

vulnerable shoulders baptized;

permeating the fibers of being.

 

Shame On you:

Given by master shame-keepers;

blind to their own shame-pain;

stained by the dregs of their perceived worthlessness.

 

Shame ON me:

I, too, am stained – a shame-holder;

cloaked in my denial;

shame administered from my benumbed self;

dispensed to avoid;

imparted to another so that I will not be the only worthless one;

buried in anger – a distraction from facing my

damaged-self in shadow places…

always hiding, always evading.

 

Longing though…

longing…

for exoneration;

to be disburdened from this groundless, guilt-laden backpack;

just to be loved…

            for Love;

longing rising from a deep soul-knowing.

 

I still bear the decades-old shame stigmata.

Sad that I still prefer to dress in these tainted garments.

They’re still in fashion, right?

These comfortable, immured costumes?

 

But I see only through the eyes of the child in me.

There is a different way – where scales fall;

where Light burns off unworthiness like morning fog

and the soul is clear and pristine – created worthy;

where shame has no place –

exposed as the mask it is;

where I AM reveals the I am that I am –

breathed into existence by Breath Herself.

Created by Love –

always “Love ON me”…

Love in me…

That’s all…

That’s all that’s needed.

Cades Cove layers





Uncaged . . .

13 02 2016

 

caged 2

Caged –

censored by years of conformity;

chained by links of prescription:

shoulds and ought-tos,

fears,

anxieties,

insecurities,

            self-definition deprivation . . .

Gripped by dark matter’s invisible force;

chasing fallacious love — perceived to be the liberator of who I am.

 

But the soul’s expression . . . insuppressible;

wild,

free,

uncontainable . . .

 

Imagination’s Big Bang – expanding;

creativity’s resurrection – incessant . . .

a poem waiting for completion;

a verse lived day-by-day;

a prose of becoming, composed of daily refrains. . .

 

Mystery – the poetry;

Creator – the emancipator of imagination and inspiration;

Presence – the deliverer of the soul’s captured language;

Love – the savior of who I am . . .

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limited consciousness . . .

2 01 2016

Gettysburg Fence

What bliss it is to live in the realm of limited consciousness;

defending defined borders along the unknown lands:

staving off responsibility for the depth of who we are;

Here, we live in complacent simplicity –

separating and dividing;

categorizing and generalizing;

delineating between “us and them”;

coveting absolutes not ambiguity;

Allowing the container of who we are to become the content –

no more, no less.

 

Fear, in this storyline, is the primary plot device.

The ego is driven to manufacture a god for our comfort;

holding tight the wardrobe keys so Narnia will remain undiscovered;

seeking self-preservation.

 

We work so hard.

We deceive ourselves.

 

But there is always an invitation to explore the Limitless:

in the truth that all of who we are, light and shadow, is already loved –

no strings attached;

in faith that we can risk hiking into the unknown;

in trust that we can embrace blurred boundaries;

in hope of discovering the depth of who we are created to be;

in the joy of living into

True Love;Little River Rain

True Self;

True Freedom;

True Life;

True God;

 

What Bliss . . .





Help me to love. . .

29 12 2015
Little River Stairs

Help me to love.

A simple request, this may seem;

but, if genuine, there is a cost – my ego…

 

I proceed, then, with trepidation; in faith, but with apprehension –

faith in the Love for which I thirst;

faith in the essence of the I-Am-Who-I-Am DNA from which I was created;

created in love, by Love.

 

So help me to love –

in the presence of kindness but also within accumulating animosity;

in the presence of thoughtfulness but also within the novocaine of indifference;

in the presence of goodness but also among incessant evil;

in the presence of joy but also within piercing pain;

in the presence of light but also in life’s seemingly non-ending darkness;

in the presence of gratefulness but also within the expectations of entitlement;

in the presence of inclusion but also in the pith of prejudice’s narrowness;

in the presence of those who build up but also in the presence of those who destroy;

in the presence of like-minded believers but also among control-based condemners.

 

Help me love neighbor and self as well – for the mirror into which I look reflects all that has been named.

I am not clean of these adjectives, adverbs, verbs and nouns.

 

This is what You ask, right? The One who is Love? To love…all?

 

Give me courage, then, to risk letting go:

of ego;

of who I believe I am suppose to be;

of fear-based living…

 

Help me love…

Townsend Tunnel





Lovable?

15 08 2015

Ocean City, NJ Pier:BW

Lovable?

Maybe –

I hear it;

I say I know it;

I pretend I believe it –

because I’m suppose to?

But I’m not sure it dwells in my bones.

Do I believe it – truly?

Is it ingrained in me?

Does it flow through my veins like life?

And who tells me otherwise?

“They”?

Power seekers?

Wealth addicted?

Fearful “others” – needing to protect themselves?

Control hungry egos?

Religion?

Family?

You?

Me?

When did I start trying to “measure up?”

When did I abandon a childlike trust?

What if . . .

I am treasured more deeply than I know?

I am loved by Love?

What possibilities . . .

what change for good;

what risks I would take;

how I could love others more deeply – be love-able . . .

If I but lived this truth and bore it deep in my bones…

Sunrise over Atlantic City