Fertile Failure

Yet just as from the heavens

the rain and snow come down

And do not return there

till they have watered the earth,

making it fertile and fruitful,

Giving seed to the one who sows

and bread to the one who eats,

So shall my word be

that goes forth from my mouth;

It shall not return to me empty,

but shall do what pleases me,

achieving the end for which I sent it

Isaiah 55.

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Matthew 13

Birds ate the seed on the path.

Sun scorched the seed on the rocks.

Thorns choked the seed among them.

Fruit was produced by the seed in the rich soil. 

Haunting Faith

What have I let go?

What bridges have I burned?

What love or life that was meant

for me somewhere,

have I somehow foolishly spurned?

There is no answer to such a question.

There is no lesson to be learned.

There is only that which is available always.

There is only the Spirit discerned.

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Pax Meus

          There is only one solution

          to the anger born in

          the killing sense from another; 

          namely, one must retreat totally

          into the silence and from there

          permit solitude to be inflamed

          by the stillness of the dark

          from whence the chaos came. 

Rainbow after the Storm

Weather!

Weather is a wonder, wherever you are!

It gives the observer a glimpse,

a glimpse of what a moment with Eternity is like:

Nothing; nothing in the face of the life all around.

Standing outside! Ecstatic!

Ecstasy coming in circles, reversals, impacts and spurts;

all out of any one’s control.

My Lord, we are talking a heavenly vision here,

an experience nigh unto the soul; 

a moment alone with the power of the Creator;

not yet by anyone from this angle told:

my own little divine experiment

to find heaven and hell so bold,

so as to touch my life so closely,

in this weather wonder to behold.

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Passing Notes

Oh, keep the music coming,

the rhythm and the rhyme;

the syncopated bellissima

between the silence that is mine.

The past that somehow binds the moments,

The present which I forever find,

The passing phen.om.en.o.logical,

Around which we all are entwined.

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21st Century Retreat

Don’t you just hate it when you can’t find your solitude?

When drastic measures are needed to be raised;

When you find yourself trapped in some perfunctory ritual;

Or running for shelter in a purple haze.

 

My Lord, where are those times of childhood freedom?

My G-od, where are those happy days?

When everyone knew what was important to the other person

And did not care because they knew everyone plays.

 

Now the play-ers are separated from the pray-ers

And the left is not part of the right;

And the colors are not satisfied being wonderfully radiant

Because they simply are not black or white.

 

Yes, we only find ourselves alone now

In the heat of the battle

As we raise our backs and 

As we bicker and fight.

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Existential Faith

          IF

          Solitude

          Becomes

          YOU,

          In time;

          Then, you must cling

          To that time

          ALONE,

          While reaching

          OUTSIDE of time

          To the uncertainty of

          OTHER

          In prayer.

          2017.02.04.1724 ©