Yahweh

Take these hands and curl them round about the handles of the plow;
Take these knees and teach them in awed reverence to bend and bow;
Take these eyes and open them so the world of suffering they can see;
Take these ears and unclog them so the cries of pain they can hear;
Take these tears and let them be for washing feet with every heartbeat;
Take these lips and set a coal to purify them for a kiss they never miss…

Kyrie eleison, Kyrie eleison, Kyrie eleison

Take this mind and let it find your favor to unbind from wasted trash;
Take this heart and teach it to love with unbounded love from above;
Take this soul and fill the hole from your overflowing heavenly bowl…

Kyrie eleison, Kyrie eleison, Kyrie eleison

Yahweh

Note: Inspired by “Yahweh” (an ancient Hebrew name for God) by the rock-n-roll band, U2, and originally published in May 2016, now republished due to some renewed interest. The phrase, “Kyrie eleison,” is an ancient Greek prayer simply meaning, “Lord, have mercy.” Blessings to all!

One Common Thread

Is there the bright Light that pierces the fierce black of night?
Is there the Word that is heard above the cacophony of the earth?
Is there the shining Hope that helps us cope with the pain
In what seems an insane world into which we’ve been hurled?

Is there the true Line to be read in the dark witching hour?
Is there the Blood that does not taint but rather paints all
Of Life with humanity and humanity with untainted Life?
Is there the Heart that beats with Joy untold and bold?

Is there Food to fill the bowl of the soul so that it overflows?
Is there Peace strong enough to give new lease to new life?
Is there abundance of Good to spread about without redundancy?
Is there the Way to find the ‘I’ of me, who I’m supposed to be?

Before all and after all, there is the preeminence of silence,
But the Voice speaks into the void choice words of creativity
And there is then the Nativity of Life before life and death,
Serenity before insanity, and wondrous gain before the pain.

Is there one common Thread that has led us to where we are
Among the stars, resting on one small bed in the vast Cosmos?
And has Someone said they will heal the ancient scars of war
and seal the new destiny, in which we feel at home at last?

Perhaps … Yes


Note: Inspired by And It’s Dark by the very talented Jyotee of Life is all about PAIN and originally published in August 2016, now republished due to some renewed interest as well as for new reader-followers. Blessings to one and all!

Treasure

Treason of the heart in perfect season
For reason known only to the pure soul
Cleansed from stain by a graceful rain
Freed from the chain of wicked strain,
Washed of the stain of vain rebellion,
Free to be, to see and eat of the Tree,
Casting off the fetter for better life
On this plane in a sane frame of mind;
Clear Voice now to hear without a fear;
An overthrow blow to the ruling powers
To now flow in liberty hitherto unknown,
To bid farewell to hell to no more sell
One soul for parcel of peace in lease
Of mere existence for a day in the way
Of lies that fly from the Enemy bound
To hound the spirit of all who crawl
Upon this earth far from glory’s hearth;
We now know our worth in love from above
As we love because we first were loved…
Treasure



Note: First published in May 2016, republished now due to some renewed interest… Enjoy and God bless you!

Hear the Voice, Make the Choice

Yes, I know there is something in you that longs
For light and life, peace and truth so very bright
Even as you look star-gazed into the nightly sky
Trying to think of the way to shrink the cosmos
Into your mind and there bind it to be your own
Where seeds of immortality are sown in beauty
And you imagine it to be your duty to be as God
As you tread the sod of earth, place of your birth
For this is where you find your worth in existing
So you keep persisting in the chase but resisting
Answers given long ago in script and lovely song
Going your own way day by day, never your soul
To stay ever in one place as you outpace yourself
In your relentless race to trace the fine line of life
But Life itself has already found you
Your only need is but to turn around!
Hear the Voice call and make a marvelous choice!


“He is our God; we are the people he cares for, the flock for which he provides. Hear his Voice . . . hear his Voice.” (From the 95th Psalm of the Hebrew scriptures)

Sailing the Deep Soul Sea (Recast)

Take me out of my marshy lagoon at high noon
To sail the wide open azure sea; I want to be free

Through the narrow opening where the sparrow flies
Guide me before my soul dies in this concavity of lies

It is a galleon, this ocean stallion of my salvation
Yet uncertain for the duration of this journey
But fascination draws me into an ocean
Without limitation and far away from
My swampy bay of self-damnation

Off the brackish shelf and out from myself
Into the soul of heaven without digression
Nor concession, an expression of freedom
Let me make my confession in procession
Into heart liberty with no more discretion

Oh, sail me now into the keep of mystical deep
Where lays life unknown, blown by your breath
Away from my groans alone in this secluded bay
Out into the bright, numinous light of day to stay
Never to return to my bay
Never to stray from glory . . .

Through the narrow opening where the sparrow flies
Guide me though into open azure sea; I want to be free

Sailing the deep soul sea
Sailing the deep soul sea
Sailing the deep soul sea


Note: First published in October 2016 this poem and its second part represent a personal, mystical-spiritual journey within the broad tradition of the Christian faith.

Merry Lights for Better Times

I see lights in the trees, twinkling in the breeze,
Heralding another Christmas with all of its glee,
And I think, what a grand time for me to be free,
When once again my ghosts of the past must flee;
For I am me, and I’m here with Christmas trees,
Bound to the evergreen, sounds of mystic angels
As they sing such serene songs to hear, no fear;
Just the right time to rejoice and hold tight hope
For better years ahead, but for now I’m well-fed,
And lay me down in comfortable bed, with my head
Full of dreams shot thru with lighted trees
Twinkling in the breeze, promising coming glee,
So for now I truly am free to be me, you see.

Good tidings to you, one and all, and much fun
Immersed in the many lights of night twinkling
In the breeze to freeze all curses, and to free
In this Christmas season for none other reason
Than Yuletide greetings for you to be only you,
To laugh and dance, twirl and prance, and sing!

Happy Christmas season to one and all! Blessings!


Note: Originally published in early December 2015

He Chose the Highway

He chose the feast with fine wine over the garbage bin in the din of the world;
He chose lighthearted dancing rather than prancing through all of the rubbish;
He chose bright light, even amid the night, instead of fright in dæmonic blight;
He chose the pasture of tall, lush grass rather than pass through the wasteland,
And to drink from the cool, clear stream and beam with an heavenly gladness;
Yes, he chose to live an alive life instead of merely persisting in simply existing;
But he does shed some tears as he hears sad cries and sees those but living lies;
To know that one so near and dear lives in fear of losing what she never had . . .
Oh! It tears his heart apart like a fiery dart to his soul,
Which is otherwise a bowl-full of joy, peace and love!
But he has chosen the higher way, to live in the day all along this way of live life;
And pray . . . yes, he prays for the day his loved one will be set free into liberty,
But he cannot turn back to gloom and doom to save her; he is surely not a knave
Though brave he may be; he is wise enough
To know he has no place in such dark show;
So he continues along the highway in the brightness of numinous day every day,
And rejoices in the sunshine, laughing, singing, and glad to dine with fine wine!

Come Again Into Our Tent

I sink my head into your wellspring of Life and drink,
And I do not even think that even at my least I may feast
At your table where you are guardian, lover and priest;
But without you present in the tent to augment,
Then the water is insipid and the food savorless
Because nothing is good to me in the sadness
Of the absence of your essence, and I weep
Because I cannot keep my heart from breaking;
It is like a wrecking of my soul and I am an empty bowl
Without you, so strong, beautiful, true and ever new!
I long for your emerald eyes and your voice, the choicest
Of all voices in earth and heaven, to leaven my spirit
With the fine wine of gladness, to guard against madness;
Oh, so where are you now that I am bent low in this tent?
I crave your smooth bronzed skin, your sculpted chin,
And hands of iron but gentle, and your chenille cloak;
Come quickly again or I’ll faint under the strain;
Let me see you now walking down the main lane;
Let me once more rest against your breast in our nest
And breathe easily while dæmons seethe in indignation
And frustration at the elevated sensation of our relation;
Let me again wrap myself in your arms against all harms,
And then the water will be sweet and the feast fit to eat!

The Spirit Blows and Flows

The Spirit blows from where nobody knows
And freely flows there, where nobody knows;
Like the wind bending trees eyes can see,
But unseen winds her way and binds hearts,
And minds and souls, and life of every kind;
Truly, she moves so smoothly and beautifully,
With gentle touch so forceful, so resourceful…

mystical20fairy[1]

The Spirit blows from where nobody knows
And freely flows there, where nobody knows;
In and through crowds with all good and true,
Within, without all creation with reverberation;
Breath of Life, death of death, knife of God
To end all strife, tearing down each façade…

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The Spirit blows from where nobody knows
And freely flows there, where nobody knows;
Thru street band shows, over high plateaus,
In the beggar low, and every Hawaiian isle,
Thru birds of the air, and every flower fair;
She moves unseen, known well by the keen…

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The Spirit moves in relation with all creation;
Incarnation, consummation of intimate relation,
Dispensation of peaceful consolation, assumption
Of the dispensation of glorious reclamation…

night-and-the-spirit-of-life

The Spirit blows from where nobody knows
And freely flows there, where nobody knows…



Note: Originally published in September 2015; being re-published due to some renewed interest and also just to share with new followers/readers. Enjoy!

And My Heart Cried Out to You

I cannot lay me down to sleep; my soul in ashen heap,
Where darkness creeps and seeps in, leaving me numb
And dumb but restless in relentless torment of void;
Have I damned myself to be so removed from all feeling
Except undercurrent of unease from some mind disease
That robs me of joy, plays me like toy, some little boy?
And how do I return to sunny days from out of this haze
When there were none, but some ill-sought comfort
In believing I believed, having an unsure assurance
In preference to being honest with myself and with God?
When only with head-nod did I agree, but ne’er was free?
Oh, but now does liberty bind and grind me to lonely dust,
What must be thrown out because I can no longer trust
You to guide and direct, hide and protect? Did you ever
Or did you sever tie that binds? You knew I was blind,
So everything I left behind, and wind my way down path
Of discovery ~ to walk away from myself ~ but now I drown
In soul chaos and confusion, despair and disillusion,
But most frightening is not feeling, not crying; no crown
Awaits me now, but am I dying lying to myself, or flying,
Soaring to higher heights on winds of Spirit, where you are
And do not bar entrance to those who would know your star?
Is this why head feels too light to delight in journey
Begun and continued to discover for first time; recover
What was never lost; uncover truth and finally know you?
Did you leave my side, not abide, not hear when I cried;
Or am I running to you night and day, only to find you
And stay for one ray of hope, one spark of living fire
Before this body tires; before comes the funeral pyre…?
Or is all this my life but satire written by father liar?
No … no!
Another scream before sinking down again into murky stream,
Black-gilded dream; And will I awaken to see your face,
Every line to trace in love unworn, reborn anew to rise
To heavenly prize, like Phoenix with life you adorn
With eternity surely love and peace will no longer scorn.



Note: Originally published in August 2015, republished due to some renewed interest. . . And, man-oh-man, have I come a long way since penning this poem, thank God!