The Beast

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I saw the Beast who bolted

through my safely tucked repose

and I heart racing with breath catching

awaken, now exposed.

Was he there from set of sun, joined in this space I slept?

Did I so warm this nightly Beast within my bed caressed?

I alone will wonder now as dusk blows through to day

what creature comfort darkens night and lays me down, I pray.

 

 

Photograph by Chris Johns

Easter

in-rain

Smooth and loose inviting touch

…soft puppy-belly-wrinkle-like

not morning’s bite so crisp or cool

but Friday peaceful inside-out.

The sigh, drawn breath… pain and all

embracing life most tender there.

A gaze embalms the heart to flesh,

enmeshed triune incarnate life

…soft puppy-belly-wrinkle-like

smooth and loose inviting touch.

 

Photography courtesy of Pat Cegan

 

 

Swell

b83d268657b3d4395c4b8fd78369fe87What of the rage within that swells?

– quiet

then like a boom, you crash against the wall with words

you knock another off their holy high and you fall and drown

ego slammed against the shore 

shamed to be sand-covered

soaked in  humanity

-quiet. 

photo courtesy of Kalani Cummins

Tangled

dsc_0391_01_01.jpg I have plans to free myself of life’s in-betweens.

The places where boundaries fade and color each other.

The places where messy edges scatter thoughts and wound intent.

I can’t negotiate these gaps so I plan a get away.

I throw my hands up to free my soul.

The pieces scatter far apart yet I stand alone still tangled.

 

Photography contributed by “Jeb, Traffic with Elves Fauns and Fairies”

Secret Pain

 

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Life lived slow mid thorns of fear, wounded weighted low,

Memories lost of journeys free before this path, this NO.

Gone the days of wonder’s laugh choked out by touching hurt.

Yet undeceived can eyes still see such beauty bright unthroned?

 Yes! seize and strain the light until with hope you can release

the tears flow down like rain

and grow the heart beyond this place.

For there the quiet secret pain remains embraced and thus refined,

breathed within a lover’s kiss,  a holy space divine.

Photography: eternitysphotography/wordpress.

Love’s silence

What I hear is an option. Even in choosing silence- I can hear. I listen….

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Sound is a space of being

Sound is a link to a moment in time.

It is tangible, functional, inviting.

As I separate the tones and attend to one over the other I learn and feel and know a new old something.

As the layers stream into my consciousness

I am reminded

I am comforted

I am loved.

Gesture

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What gesture best describes your greeting? Is it a simple head nod, a hearty “hello” with brief eye contact or a phrase expressing your view of the day and the encounter “good day to you” or “don’t you love the weather?”

I’m a head nod type of person– reflecting my focus to get on with chance moments and attack the day’s true calling. This stingy gesture says something important about my reluctance to be whole.

I miss the spiritual potential of gesture.

I miss the moment of life ordained for that encounter.  I am instead attached to an agenda – one that splits me from reality and the wonder of chance and change.

I don’t really believe church people do this better– though many practice it at least once a week. I am learning that the uninvested spirit of God in the ritual of a handshake and a caring hello harbors more grace than a sermon or ritualized amen.

My soul has wondered from stoned faced worship to see God in gestures meant to connect us on a journey –without an agenda but with a liturgy of embrace. My soul sees God in the moments I break free from form and risk greeting with the breath of a holy now.