And Now Do the Shades Rise Up To Praise You

Note: Written five years ago in April 2012, this personal account is still largely true today. Coming quickly now to the celebration of Easter, it seemed appropriate for me to share this testimony with reader-followers of this blog in hopes that you find both joy and inspiration. A half-decade may have passed, but the answer to the title-question still remains the same for me. Blessings to one and all!

Knowing and not knowing. Knowledge without understanding. Wisdom trampled beneath the arrogant feet of folly, led by the blind man I was born, groping along the wall, waiting for the next fall. No not a man, not half a man, but only a shade of what I was meant to be, the image-bearer of God, lovingly created in his likeness.

Feeling my way along in the darkness, surrounded by multitudes of blinded men, I was alone existing in my unlife, haunted by numinous dreams of otherworldly communion, struggling to forge hearts out of stone, draw water from desert sands, and cover the night in unseen light born of imagination desperately searching for some façade behind reality.

And I flew in a thousand directions to escape the anguish of my own haunted soul, dreaming worlds and wars, making love and peace in perfectly controlled imagination, writing my own laws and standing high priest in my own holy temple, all as vacuous as the furtherest reaches of coldest outer space.

Man by birth … Shade by slow death.

So much less ~ so terribly other ~ than what I was meant to be, and why? And I have fought and scrambled for so many shallow honors and recognitions, for power, prestige and popularity. Vainly do I scurry to fill my life with toys and trinkets, grasping at suave success and material gain, gasping for the breathe of life in the dark shadows of a dying world.

And my heart cry is lifted in the awful realization that apart from the Author of Life there is no life ~ authentic life ~ but that I am and ever shall be wholly destitute. No matter how much I shift and change, no difference how many different parts I play or people I become, I am nothing. I am the Shade.

But now stripped bare, blindfold removed, and all fantasy blown away like thin wisps of lingering smoke. Now awakening to the awakened world, and released from the confines of the medical ward back into the streets of asphalt and concreted buildings, flashing lights and delivery trucks, schools and churches and middle class homes…

Now what? More alive and awake than ever I have been before, I am frightened. What now? Fantasy feels safer, dreams more secure. No matter how agonizingly unrealistic, and no matter how disappointing … how shattered. But I hear the whisper in ancient tone, “Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor have entered into the heart of man the things which God has prepared for those who love Him.”

“‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the LORD, ‘plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.’ And so, ‘awake, o sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.’ And he who has now begun this good work in you is faithful and he himself will bring it to completion, for he came not only to give you life, but life abundantly!”

What else but to bow down in humble adoration and thanksgiving? After all, did the Light not shine to rescue me from Darkness? Did the Voice not speak for me to hear? Was the Story not told to fill my emptiness with Meaning? Did the Arms not open wide to embrace and hold one so alone and forlorn? Did Life not die and rise again that I might die no more, but live? Live?

The great psalmist, David, once asked, “Will you show your wonders to the dead? Will the shades rise up and praise you?” And the answer is given…

Yes, the shades do now rise to praise you! Lord, make me whole.


Mounting On My Knees

All consumed by you, the tomb of my soul gives birth to its worth;
Where once there was gloom and darkness, there now blooms life,
And I am being groomed for something more in the Womb of Love.
On my knees, my knees, I see the flowered trees of heaven dance
And the hinds prance from one mount to mount ~ who can count?
Bleeding tears from my eyes the size of tidal waves, what saves;
I’d forgotten I’m stronger when bowed low than standing for show;
Ah! Spirit of the Living Life and Light and Love from high above,
Show me now in which way to go, not with haste, but wisely slow;
Now I know, I know, I know . . . I am bended low higher than ever!
I shiver at the flow of Life surging thru my soul, my ethereal veins
Running with Blood not my own, veritable flood of heavenly Light
So bright, who can look upon the sight? And no longer dark blight,
My inner-man shines thru the night, and is there any more fright?
No! Consumed by you, the tomb of my soul gives birth to its worth!

Note: First published in February 2016, now being republished for the reading pleasure of new blog followers. Blessings to one and all!

Whisper Touch

Like blazing torch to the heart and the art of love to impart
And jumpstart the soul, mending what’s been ripped apart;
Here now is the whisper touch…
Whisper touch.

Like an energizing force in one Voice giving me choice to rejoice
And sing to bring new life where once there was but dark death;
Yes, there is the whisper touch…
Whisper touch.

Like an adrenaline rush to this bedouine in extraction of venom
And exhilaration at the incarnation of heaven against damnation;
It is the whisper touch…
Whisper touch.

Feel the touch.

Note: First published in May 2016, now being republished for the pleasure of new reader-followers. Blessings to one and all . . . as you feel the whisper touch!

Ode to Love (Recast)

Love can be so cruel, so unkind, and oh-so blind;
Enough to make the fool drool, but the wise one
Sees the forest beyond the trees and honey bees;
Love can be like only bare and stone-cold bones,
Or it can be as one small flower growing in power;
And love can be like fine wine or be high and dry;
Love is free and wild, and won’t be tame and mild;
Love is a child, ever growing into showing wisdom,
Free yet to be whatever the world around shall see;
Never contained, hardly ever restrained, and not
To be disdained, for love is love as it is, and love
Comes from Love from Above…
Yes, it can bring pleasure like an exquisite treasure
Or it can bring pain with no gain and seem insane;
Ah! is it worth the while? But what is life without
Love except bland with no real demand? This love
In all its complexity sells itself to the soul and
Then compels, propels to great heights with might!
Love is and shall be … for you, everyone, and me…
For love defines our life as it is and ever shall be …

Note: Previously published in April 2016

Scars and Stars

If you live long enough
You’ll have some scars,
From the near and far,
From inside the home
And from the outside,
Where strangers meet
And greet and eat you!
But then you will learn
To walk miles of trials
And burn all the trash
At every turn each day
Along the way and say,
‘Hello light and dark,
Sun, moon and stars!
Shine on all my scars,
So bright in my sight!
After all, I’m full alive
In this world beehive!’
And so there will be . . .
Scars and Stars

Note: Previously published in August 2016. Hope you enjoy! Blessings to one and all!


One fine day we will find our way and learn to say, ‘I love you’
And mean it from a clean heart from where we glean our humanity;
And on some starry night we might find we are not alone after all,
But held by the strong arms of another of might, beautiful sight;
And all of our nightmares will disappear and peace will reappear
In our souls without any holes, just bowls of affection like new
Springs with no infection, and no defection or dereliction of duty,
But for now we wait while heaven fights the hate in our dark hearts
As the enemy darts in and out of the shadows thru the meadows
Of song-filled spirits where we belong to each other and to the One;
How now shall we live, and how shall we be for all the world to see?
Is there anyone who has such fun playing on the strings of our minds
As the angels who sing and bring good cheer to residents of earth?
We march forward on all fours across the floor of terrestrial sphere,
Never coming near the goal of immortality yet not moving in futility;
We step forward into everlasting day in the same way we were born:
Through pain but in deep joy too, and who can tell what happiness
Is brought by ones who fought to give life to such hope in the heart?

Note: First published in May 2016

Whirlwind for Heavenly Bazaar

MississippianInk2-by-irlaAs the whirlwind wraps me in her arms and whispers in my ear so near,

I hear the voices of seven thousand souls from heaven to leaven the air,

And my hair blows back gently as she stares in my eyes, spies my heart:

‘Where did you go wrong, my dear? What song do you sing that brings

Such pain with no gain? Take my hand and feel the grand spirits of old;

Be bold and let them take hold of your spirit but for one swift moment

To sift you and make you whole again.’ My arms stretched to blue sky

Above to try to embrace the whole celestial realm, but she only laughed

In love: ‘No; open up within and they will begin to hold you, woo you

And fill you with true song ~ long on love ~ guide you where you belong,

And you will rest in numinous nest as in the days of old so cold now

In your memory.’ I’d fallen far and could no longer see my guiding star,

My soul reservoir nearly empty where once there’d been plenty: ‘Come.

Come above, my love, and I’ll show you an heavenly bazaar from which 

You may fill yourself to overflowing.’ And my world started growing,

My mistress lord glowing in the fresh wind blowing: ‘Child so mild,

Yet heart untamed and wild, like me all of treasure of all of the Cosmos

Have been here, not there; all around you, but you’ve been so long bound.’

And tis true . . . but now the world opened up wide, and there I’ll abide.

Here I’ll abide!

Note: Originally published in February 2016, being republished now due to some renewed interest as well as to simply share with new followers/readers. Enjoy!

Peace in Perpetuity: Welcome Eden


Good folks shooting good folks,
Recruiting more folks to shoot
As they pour out venom in store
From many years of repression
With no cessation, but does it
Make any sense? Is it pretense?
It’s not an easy walk, for sure,
But talk of peace is not enough;
It means taking a risk, a chance
In advance at the dangerous end
Of the gun, son; yeah, putting
Your life on the line as a sign
Of your conviction without any
Restriction that light drives
Out the darkness, that the fight
Is really for life, rather than
Mere existence rife with pain
And agony with naught to gain.
It’s all so insane, is it not?
Good folks shooting good folks,
Recruiting more folks to shoot…
Time to stop all of the insanity
Of gross vanity of war mongers,
Who sit sunny with their money
Counted with bloody hands and
Smiles on their crooked faces!
Time for light to shine bright
In the night of a new humanity
Under the radiance of dear Luna
In anticipation and expectation
Of the coming Dawn of Eden Land.
Say hello to serenity in plenty
In rebirth of old but new earth!
Welcome …!


Note: Having written one poem for Poets for Peace,  I guess it just piqued my interest in finding out how many other pieces I’d already written specifically on the subject of peace. This poem was originally published in March of this year (2016).