further explanation. . .so that we all may understand each other

hi.

because two posts ago, i shared a poem that i had written this week. because it says i'm dying. because i don't to my knowledge have a terminal illness. because i still don't think i was lying!

i was writing, trying to comprehend what a reality shift is like. i was thinking of how my reality will completely change on January 6 when i go to DTS, but how my family's reality will continue on, just with me playing a different part. two realities. i have one life now, and will have one life then, but they are drastically different. i realized that it's as if my current life ends on January 6, and i die to the life that i know. but i live in a new life, a new reality! does that make any sense?

i'm sorry if it seems like i'm joking with the serious or have a morbid obsession with death. i'm writing to make sense of life and the world, and i do not lie, but my words have a different meaning to me than they may to you. i offer apology if i misled or worried any of my dear friends who are interested in my life. i guess there's just a little of the contemplative philosopher in me that goes nuts sometimes. read my poems as poems, read my prose as truth; and i pray you will see Christ in me.

blessings.

words from Rumi

"QUIETNESS"

Inside this new love, die.
Your way begins on the other side.
Become the sky.
Take and axe to the prison wall.
Escape.
Walk out like someone suddenly born into color.
Do it now.
Yyou're covered with thick cloud.
slide out the side. Die,
and be quiet. Quietness is the surest sign
that you've died.
Your old life was a frantic running
from silence.

The speechless full moon
comes out now.

words + my personality = jeopardy

because normal people don't go to bed at 9:35 in the evening.

i've decided that my blogs, when prose and not verse, will often begin as though i were playing jeopardy. i give the answer and you must guess the question going on in my mind. maybe every once in a while i'll go back and post the answers so you don't despair. and if you're terribly confused about a particular one, let me know and i will enlighten you.

i.e. (for example)
yesterday's post began with the answer: "because the night sky is just that amazing!"

the original question? :: there are a few options, i would accept the following :: what is. . .
'why am i so happy even though my eyes hurt from staring?'
'why is my blanket soaking wet?'
'why do i love summer and fall nights?'
'why did i make a blanket for stargazing?'

etc. you may now get the picture. if you're creative, there are bonus points to be earned. and all this adds up to a fabulous prize :::

now it's 9:40 and respectable folks may very well be allowed to retire at this hour. congratulations, blessings, and goodnight.

star-gazing and someone else's thoughts

because the night sky is just that amazing! good views, good conversation, good times. one of those bonding times that i'll remember when i'm gone next year.

tonight i finished my project and am now in prayer as to how to proceed. anyone want to read some poetry? it's a booklet, it's 14 poems (original), and i'm going to have it printed up. all proceeds go to DTS. how does one go about selling their soul? do i broadcast this? SOUL FOR SALE. . . .x amount of $$? still thinking. in the meantime, here are some one else's words that i find inspiring.

On a bus ride into town, I wondered "Why am I going to town?" I looked around at th e billboards and the stores I thought, "Why do I look around?" so I got out and I bowed and kissed the filthy ground and in the first dry spot I found I laid down without having to wonder why I was laying down. Before long I was too cold and so took a bus back to the station I found a letter left by a pay phone with no return contact information, it was addressed: To total strangers, it read like a horn blown by some sad angel "Bunny, it was me who let you down" it was the shyest attempt I'd ever seen at conversation if I didn't have You as my guide I'd still wander lost in Sinai counting the plates of cars from out-of-state, (how I could jump in their path they hurry along!) until you could surround me, you're pretty but you're all I can see, like a thick fog - if there was no way into God, I would never have laid in this grave of a body for so long, St. Cyril's fair always came through the first week of September but it's already the 19th and there's no sign of it yet. I have a hard time remembering the things I should remember and a hard time forgetting the things I should forget. Oh Christ when You're ready to come back I think I'm ready for You to come back but if You want to stay wherever exactly it is You are, that's okay too - it's really none of my business. If I didn't have You as my guide I'd still be wandering lost in Sinai or down by the tracks watching trains go by to remind me: There are places that aren't here. I had a well but all the water left so I'll ask Your forgiveness with every breath, if there was no way into God, I would never have laid in this grave of a body So long, dear.

an explanation

i'm a fool to think i'll actually have something to say on a regular basis. so if there is anyone out there who actually reads these posts, they may be few and far between.

i thought about posting something spiritual yesterday, but the Html kept messing up and maybe it's because my heart really wasn't behind it. i was posting because that's what bloggers do, they post often and write words of good meaning. but my words have little meaning so i will say few of them.

be quiet now, and wait. -- David Crowder

because everyone needs to be grounded

i guess you could say i have a passion for discipleship. because everyone needs roots, and everyone needs to be grounded.

"have the roots of your being firmly and deeply planted in Him (fixed and founded in Him), being continually built up in Him, becoming increasingly more confirmed and established in the faith, just as you were taught, and abounding and overflowing in it with thanksgiving." Colossians 3




"therefore as you have received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in Him, having been firmly rooted and now being built up in Him and established in your faith, just as you were instructed, and overflowing with gratitude." Colossians 3.7 NASB




"My counsel for you is simple and straightforward: Just go ahead with what you've been given. You received Christ Jesus, the Master; now live him. You're deeply rooted in him. You're well constructed upon him. You know your way around the faith. Now do what you've been taught. School's out; quit studying the subject and start living it! And let your living spill over into thanksgiving." Colossians 3.6-7 MSG


if our beings are firmly rooted in Christ, we can draw deep from the life-giving water that runs all around us in His word and works; and we can live.

so God gives - - - in more ways than one

i was back at my old stomping grounds today, seeing a friend. played the piano for her whilst she worked. stopped. a customer asked why i stopped. so i started again. said customer purchased her purchases and made her way to the door, i opened it for her. done playing, i walked to my friend. my friend handed me $40 and said the customer gave it to her for me after my friend had told her i was going to DTS. so God gives - - - in more ways than one.

i get it God! go ahead and provide in Your way and Your timing. you have my trust, my heart, and my love: my dear God.

nothing beckons, nothing interests

i went to the bookstore with the padres. it's a great bookstore, and i drank a delicious coffee drink. i walked through the language section: iehh. i browsed through the christian reading section: iehh. i walked through the philosophy section: the same. iehh. nothing beckons, nothing interests.

and then i spotted the poetry shelves. . . . .ahh the rows and rows of books, solidly bound compilations of verse of heart and mind. small collections, large collections. rude, kind, romantic, religious, solid, real, authentic.

it beckoned. and then my madre beckoned and it was time to go.

oh books of beautiful words -- i will return for you.

seed worn soil

i am seed-worn soil -- i am days gone by
the words of life have been poured, dumped by the bushel into my fertile furrows and like good soil, i have been busily wanting sunshine and rainy days so that these word-seeds may flourish.

Water me! don't dump new seeds -- let the first crop grow, and bloom! and anchor its roots underneath so that it can draw deep from life.

weed me! take out, tear out: the deep rooted species that choke out the good. they hang onto me for dear life and i start to suffocate: they know their fate is death.

pick me! fruits, and flowers, and every good thing -- properly cared for -- is ready for harvest. and then we can start with new seed, fresh words, sown into the soil of my soul.

"the seed cast on good earth is the person who hears and takes in the News, and then produces a harvest beyond his wildest dreams." Matthew 13.23 message

copyright 2006 all rights reserved

 

grow where you are

listen -- can you hear that?
the sound of everything you remember as the good days.
the sound of summer darkness and sleepy crickets singing the bullfrogs to morning.
the silent song of stars' hearts who join in visible tune.
the sound of peace.

seek peace.

seek quiet!
seek the stillness so that you may know, and center, and step into reality:
finally seeing everything in its relation to everything else.
it's all about putting things in their proper placement!

the lonely crickets serenade me to quietude,
save one who participates in group effort like one singing a solo:
loud and alone -- separate.
it has to be separate to be special, to be "recognized".

but the moon, reflecting the Sun whose light sheds truth to all beings,
sheds its dimness onto the darkness and both the cricket and i know our place.

copyright 2006 all rights reserved

the truth of life

it was summertime.
all the words struggling to find transparency filled my mind with an opaque shutter,
like over a window to the sea:
blocking out sky, and blue, and warm summer sun
and life! blocking out life.
I live restrained by walls of cardboard security and lofty aspirations,
my soul, perishing, breaks these words ---

unleashing the window,
unleashing life,
now! I live without fear of dying.

if I can but breathe true air,
and convey truths taught by widsom,
if in my turmoiled soul there lies a truth, that,
having been exposed can survive,
having been scrutinized still stands,
having been tested endures -- then! -- then
I will have breathed the truth of life.

I shall have walked the starless ocean view at
midnight, and at 12 past 2,
I shall have been one aquainted with the night.
I shall take the road that makes the difference!
and, having met with the living death, and having
overcome and gained entrance to the true, free
world,

I shall have lived. outside.

it was summertime.



copyright 2006 all rights reserved

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