Every day I find the same thing,

Thorns and whips and nails;

Something to suffer along the way

On the search for the Holy Grail;

Head winds and updrafts

And eddies and cascades

As I struggle to learn to sail

To float on the currents

Of the unseen darkness

Like a blind man

Reading by Braille;

Lost except for a compass within

A longing for return to good port;

Looking at the trip as a serious journey

Than rather a catch or a sport;

The water is the call of the spirit and the deep

The wind is a portent of change

My soul is a refuge from the lure of the senses

And from the world which will always seem strange.

2014.03.11.0500 ©

The Living God needs us

To accept our solitary journey and our cross

In order to continue His life today,

The life and redemptive power of His Christ.

See Col 1:24-29

http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/

?search=Colossians+1%3A24-29&version=NRSVCE

It is February,

And surely by now the new year has begun;

The last of the celebrations, the Chinese lunar one, has come:

The cycle that started when the Hebrew fall harvest was spun

Has through the calendar and the belief systems religiously run

So now one might think that the search for newness is done; No

Coming soon will be Valentine’s day and the hope for a new, loving one.

Then Easter will herald a resurrection for all

When the spring time and nature will beckon and call

To the new life within us that wants to be free

And to frolic in the summer of July, independently;

Until ‘new’ would more express us as august and sober

And the warmth and the folly can be seen so clearly as over

As we must return to study the cycle of death in October

To begin to search for some light in the dark;

Where once again, good religion would find reason to hark

The birth of a new light and a redeeming hope to spark

To set off some fireworks and a new year to mark.

2014.02.05.0300 ©

The world has so little soul

Because it has forgotten its earliest journey;

Its journey in the darkness and the silence of the womb:

In a time before time began,

When the Eternal spoke to us more than this day

And I did not think I had so much to hear or to say.

Alone was everything and nothing

Because I had all I could need

Floating in an ocean of contentment,

Feeling the warmth

Of my maker’s every thought, word and deed

For my good.

Should I forget this heaven so quickly?

Could I compare anything to its glory?

If only I would remember

That it is the memory of my soul;

That soul which calls to me

Apart from the world, alone

In the silence and the darkness and the peace.

Release me and I will return there;

We all shall,

Because it is only that journey

Which is even truer than our blood

When it comes to our good.

Yes, each womb holds the eternal pilgrimage,

The soul of the Eternal;

And it can never be held highly enough

In reverie or esteem;

It is why Mary, the mother of the Christ

Is honored so.

Go, bend your knees,

Close your eyes,

Find your peace

And remember your eternal soul,

Your first pilgrimage.

2014.01.22.2300 ©

If dakness and silence

Are the marks of the soul,

One can see how the world

And even sunlight

Could take its toll;

And how duty or prayer or

A routine of work

Must be considered with attention

And more than a modicum of care

That the soul of the giver and receiver

Might be there

In an exchange

That leaves each one less fractured

And more whole.

So the journey continues

Over years of ambition

With too little thought

That we find some contrition

For the misdirected, unreflected,

Confused, soul-less human condition

Where we look to another tomorrow as our goal.

But the end calls as in the beginning

In the very same silence, peace and dark

And the pilgrim will know

That it is the eternal which is calling

And that it is that calling which it must hark

Only if it remembers it from the womb

And the days throughout its human pilgrimage

That it did mark

The Truth and the Spirit in the Soul

2014.01.23.0700 ©

There is no such thing as silence; I know,

I have been listening for years:

The very process of searching for it

Becomes the noise the seeker hears.

There is no such thing as solitude;

No one and nothing is ever alone;

We are living in a world of continuing evolution

Creation in every corner, known and unknown.

There is no such thing as stillness or stability;

Except when one is considered full grown;

But that requires that one become too little spirit

And too much cold and written in stone.

There is no such thing as darkness;

Even Lucifer has seen the light;

But it is rather a blindness that comes around at times

To cause the mortal to find faith as his sight.

There is no such thing as profanity;

God looked at everything and saw that it was good;

Even the cross, the tree of seeming death and destruction,

The forces of evil, it overcame and withstood.

2014.01.14.0400 ©

The secret to navigating the circles of life

Is finding the way safely home;

+

Fighting the tendency to want to escape from the truth,

The weaknesses to which I am prone;

+

Resting in the one that gives true comfort

And the staying power to be alone.

+

Of course nothing in this world is so trustworthy

And some circles give us the latitude to roam,

+

Unless or until I can see with clear vision

Or the decision is finally written in stone.

+

But most times I will keep running from one to the other

Because it is that which makes me feel I am alive;

+

Nothing is more tortuous than the human heart

And the journeys along the way it must contrive;

+

Until it learns it is only in an heavenly soil

In which when planted it will eternally thrive.

+

2013.12.09.0600 ©

http://www.ourpilgrimage.com/changes_cycles_of_life.html

Slowly sliding into the darkness

Life slipping away from our sense

The birds and the trees and the natural state

Gradually becoming less dense;

Starkness our view to the horizon and to heaven

Uncovers our present tense;

We become open to creation and salvation,

The Light that unlocks the suspense.

Man is a simple pilgrim

Through the seasons of life, death and change;

Christ is the firstborn for the enlightened traveller

That the journey seem a little less strange.

2013.10.31.1800 ©