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. 

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.

2017.06.03.0714

          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. 

Oh, to find theology as faith, hope and charity and

to be able to name it as the Christ;

the Christ in our words and the Christ in our works:

of faith in the strange solitude of our darkness;

of hope of hearing again the Father’s voice in the silence of our desert journey; and

of charity in the hellish beauty of our pilgrimage with others in both the light and in the dark.

2015.09.27.0539

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