The angel descends, and slowly
becomes our own most inward yearning.
Such an intimacy is pure and strange.

Though we are ignorant of their working,
it is they who help us to
understand what it means to be human.

Masculine and feminine are familiar to them,
and sex and thirst are easy to comprehend,
but our volition perplexes the angels.

Ambition and anger confuse them,
all unbecoming acts of dark stigma,
complacency, and forsaken love.

Yet the angel understands both our
vulnerability and constant need for renewal:
how our identity must be made and unmade.

Though the angel sometimes mirrors our
own insubstantiality and elusiveness,
we have not taught it forgetfulness.

Each human being points to their own private north,
the compass of their heart constantly changing,
but the angel points to the future, to what must be.

Their instructions are often falteringly perceived;
the intention and meaning remaining unclear
until the soul matures.

Great is their reverence for us, yet it is we
who must discern what is significance,
and what is error and shadow.

Sometimes this is more than we can bear.
Indifference and false yearning
can make our future lapse and fade.

II

As each of us is one among many,
our angel is one among many spirit beings,
perfecting the mirror of imagination.

They live in an invisible sky,
more populous than the earth,
each one the servant of God.

They are co-incarnate with us.
Our lives are their devotion.
They remain with us and within us.

They do not sleep.
Their time and their knowing are different.
They live in the genius of virtue.

We are transparent to their sight.
What is new for us
was known to them long before.

They take us from point of being
to point of being, mirroring our future
and our becoming, beyond all events.

Theirs is not the mirror of expectations,
but the hope and fantasy of our own heart,
burrowing into our will and reason.

The angel points to our future,
to beginnings and to endings,
to our past and to our redemption.

They remind us that our future is glorious,
yet also that death waits for us in silence,
where lives are completed and unmade.

III

The day’s sun rises with us.
Each of us waking and rising,
turning to the world, turning from sleep.

Turning in doubt or uncertainty,
turning in silence or conviction,
turning and turning.

Turning toward one another,
then turning away,
each of us turning to our own direction,

Our questions revealing
our purpose and our emptiness;
the wonder in us that must be fulfilled.

Our thoughts begin fragmented and broken,
finite and incomplete.
Understanding has no home in us.

The angel bears us forward,
each question becoming wider, deeper,
defying what was known.

The circumference of the soul
slowly expands, calling
heaven and earth to answer together.

Meeting us where we are in life,
meeting that in us which burns.
Giving us peace.

The angel is a way station of our knowing
entrusting us with wisdom,
returning us to the world and to our tasks.

IV

The novelty and scale of our errors
draws the angels closer to us.
Their lamentation echoes everywhere.

We look to ourselves for meaning now,
and mark our own intentions.
Never have we been so free of supplication.

We have made a new world
of cause and effect and explanation,
fettering our devotion.

We seem to have had a long season
with little rain from heaven, yet we
have not been troubled by this dryness.

We have built dams and flooded the fields,
harvesting life and power and free movement,
–it has become our world.

There are so many of us now.
We distract one another with our coveting,
gathering what must be returned.

The angels rejoice at the flowering of plants
and trees, the movement of fish beneath the waters,
and each animal resting in its hidden lair,

the multitude of beetles and of birds,
of sylphs and salamanders, and
all the silent workings of life in balance.

They always knew that the earth was round,
how the mountains were formed,
and the source of rivers.

The angel knows that all creation speaks:
the voice of every species and lifeless thing,
speaking in gesture and in beauty.

The angels are pleased we have named so much,
yet what is this silence now emerging?
Have we abandoned what must still be known?

All false doubt and certainty must subside.
The angel listens to each of us,
or how would they know how to meet us?

The angel is not deterred by our ignorance.
When we reach the tabula rasa of the soul
the angel will write upon our listening heart.

V

The angel comes to us,
whispering into our dreams,
our sleeping, and our silence.

A selfless, shining
without preoccupation or smallness,
wordless and presently aware.

They understand the wilfulness of children,
their desperate and questioning trust,
the trial of their spite and affection.

Watching from a secret and invisible threshold,
they witnessed our first steps,
and listened as we become oblivious to them.

Must the child forget the nearby presence,
the endlessly patient blessing,
its confidence and its hope for us?

The guardian of our identity and
of our freedom,
the angel will seldom trespass.

VI

Our sins sleep in us,
mute, like statues,
but hidden and unseen.

Past misdeeds and banal wilfulness
shadow our intentions.
Our conscience is fragmented by neglect.

The angel is distanced
by our apathy and denial,
our aloneness and indifference.

When the angel hails us,
our docile slumber ends
––we waken and flail!

Captive and unredeemed,
the angel wrestles with our desires
–to make them more free.

Both trust and instinct fail us now.
We have nowhere to return to,
but to ourselves and our intentions.

The soul is bound in ways
we did not know.
Confusion and trial are the result.

What was empty compliance or
avoidance and vacancy,
becomes stark self-reproach.

Untying a knot requires great skill.
Such is the angel’s prowess!
—a nascent will-to-change emerges.

The perpetual obsession with self
slowly becomes interest in what is other,
a welcoming of the world.

The soul becomes transparently open,
united with spirit,
resonant and whole and complete.

 

The Tides of Heaven              

My harboured senses open up,
Water rises above the shoal.
Perception is no longer mired;
An angel lifts my soul..

Taken then on ocean waves,
Seemingly far from land,
Each thing shines with a brightness,
A diamond in God's hand.

The  heavens flood the earth,
My mind becomes a glittering sea.
All is wondrously changed,
For a time, between I and Thee.

All this takes place in silence.
Briefly, I am not alone.
Spirit to spirit reveals itself;
Like a father to a son.






Time Must Yield to Our Words	

Outside, all is motion,
the machinery of  change and 
its workshop of unbroken hours,
but we have gathered together
to hold time fast with our words.

Narrative and its spoken truths,
these are what have significance for us:
to say what is green or ripe;
what has broken off or been left behind;
and what remains with us.

We listen and we hear,
and bear witness to one another. 
Our testimonies are held together by silence,
and by our words and by our being, 
for though outside all is motion,
time must yield to our words.






The Heart Which Opens

The closed heart is a seed
Which will not open.
It can only be freed 
If it meets the sun.

But after many rains
And cool damp nights
It reaches through pain
For the appearance of light,

Which it arches to find 
Somewhere near, above,
And stretching, unbinding,
From root to bud,

It finally opens,
For all to see.
Its dark hope ended.
Its love now free.







Fidelity  (for Gabriel Marcel)
	
What presence  was I was welcoming
And confirming at that moment?
What was it that defamed all laurels?
What was it that blew gently like a wind?
What was it I touched when I reached out?
What was it, so perfect and vulnerable, like a flower?
What was it that washed through me like a whisper or a mist?
What was it that so unburdened me, that I could love once more?







I Plant My Seed

All day long 
the sound of traffic, 
every kind of speed and motion, 
lights and signals everywhere, 
and the beating of my heart.

The sky seems restless and indifferent,  
but whatever is rooted will grow 
and sustain itself, 
protected by the night.

Suns and stars and constellations 
send light from unimaginable distance. 
A light meant for the future
--light that must travel so far.

I plant my tiny seed 
beneath the broken soil.
Should I surrender my small portion?
No one has asked for it 
and it is no sacrifice to keep it.

I will remain here
between the sky and soil, 
as if rooted where I am.






He Will Never Leave Us

He will never leave us.	
His soul is the green of springtime.

He will never leave us.
His thoughts are the blue of the sky.

He will never leave us.
The blackness of the soil is his doing.

He will never leave us.
The red horizon is his greeting and his blessing.

He will never leave us, 
Yet every blossom is his final word.

He will never leave us.
Each tree and forest salutes him.

He will never leave us.
He has hidden the road, but walks with us.

He will never leave us,
For love is his classroom.

He will never leave us.
He is the moistness of decay and of life.

He will never leave us.
The sun is a candle in His room.

He will never leave us.
He fashions the days to His use.

He will never leave us.
For death has become his friend.

He will live forever,
Until our passions become His.





Saturday Pilgrimage

My father goes on a pilgrimage each Saturday.
He wakes early and
follows the signs in all directions.

Each house he visits 
has a makeshift shrine of neglected objects;
the traces of lives 
cast off on the tables and lawns.

Though they only show their poverty
he searches for the inner riches of souls.

Sometimes he is cheated 
by the stinginess of his own heart
and returns home empty handed.

Other times he returns with his purchases,
overwhelmed by beauty and treasures of generosity,
and love beams from his heart and from his hands.

(for Father's Day, June 18, 2000)






untitled

I feel briefly overwhelmed.
What is the cause of this weakness?
It is not because the world has overpowered me
or because I am not rested or prepared.
All is well with me.
It is not humility or even repentance.
It is that there is a greatness inside of me
and I do not know if I am equal to it.





	Summation

I have been an arrow guided in and out of error, 
spiralling blindly toward a restless target, 
possessed and dispossessed by wrath and grace, 
randomly salvaged by wholeness and by peace.

Thought the sun and stars move where they will,
flesh and desire brought me their ordinary pleasures,
my feet and hands move as they were meant to move, 
and those who are around me give me refuge in their virtues.







Christmas Day

Outside all is white.
It covers up our sins.
Inside, all is quiet.
Peace on earth will reign

for a few hours here,
--a timelessness
to absent our fears
and redress 

briefly, the unforsaken, 
woes that daily test
our heart.  May heaven 
grant us this.






Paradoxes

Thorns point to their crown.
Winter's tabula rasa becomes a new season of life.
The stuttering of animals is their secret language
The fire burns so that it can brighten.
Panting desire and breathless love are companions.
The nose may be blinded by odour.
Silence may be heard, but not spoken.
Flowers rise from the seed's unmarked grave.







At Death

When you die 
all your deeds will rise 
before you 
as if awakened from a sleep.

What was kind and wondrous 
will greet you like a friend and 
truthfully resound, 
and what was without feeling for others 
will rise up 
and accuse you of betrayal.

What is in your heart will 
no longer be secret, 
and all of your thoughts 
will speak aloud.

May you then meet the being of light 
whose greatest hope for you is that 
you will empty yourself in compassion, 
and be without fear.

He will remind you 
that the past and future are given 
to you in trust.

You must then 
judge yourself with courage 
and with contrition 
for the benefit of all beings.

May those you have loved, 
both those here and in the afterlife
help you, and guide you away 
from any loneliness 
that would darken your soul.

And may your body be filled with light.







Heaven is Not Only the World Above Us

Heaven is not only the world above us.
From depths of the earth to the firmament of the stars 
there is abundant evidence of its unseen hand.

You say that the Creator sleeps and 
all is natural law and mechanism.
What would you call proof of the divine? 
You, yourself are proof!

Each soul must be broken open,
our immutable ignorance split apart.
Heaven is mining us for its precious adornment,
to be the glory of Its crown!

Receive heaven and be remade!
What is shadow in our depths 
Is to be transfigured and
given up to light.







The Body

An arm, a hand, a face with unique features;
A person that we know, even by the way that they walk.

The bones accommodate gesture and movement, 
mirroring the mind's invisible eye.

The blood flows thick and 
warm with the heart's constant threshing

The lungs flap easily within the chest, 
like a graceful and silent bird.

The muscles hoist and pull 
and align themselves assertively.

The senses--no description is adequate, 
for they are the magic processes of stars,
and the implements of worldly consciousness.

The powers of digestion and excretion, 
the belly's alchemy of fire.






Where We Are

Where we are is a moment in time
Where we are is without precedent
Where we are is a dangerous place
Where we are is troubling and lonely
Where we are is an ongoing struggle
Where we are is a tragedy and a comedy
Where we are has been brought on by success

Where we are is a trial and error
Where we are is what the moment demands 
Where we are is an ongoing dialogue
Where we are must not be left behind
Where we are is everyone's business
Where we are, God only knows

We are with the world above us, beneath us 
We are with the living and the dead
We are with the beasts and the angels 
We are with the silent, patient earth.
We are with one another
We are with enemies and friends
We are with the seen and the unseen

We are going onward, backwards and forwards,
We are going to decide the future
We are going to make amends
We are going to start all over
We are going back to where we came
We are going to grow together
We are going to where we have never been.






Buddha and the Devil

Why is the Buddha laughing?
The Awakened One, compassionate and wise.
What a good time he seems to be having,
Is he laughing because he’s surprised?

Does the dog have buddha-nature?
His mind is empty, but his mouth has a grin.
Such a simple, predictable creature,
Doesn’t he know the trouble we’re in?

Is the devil only a rumour?
Does he amuse himself playing jokes on his patsy?
I picture him sullen and in bad humour.
Why is his mood so sour and nasty?






Anvil, Hammer, Fire

The anvil of the world
Sounds out of silence.
I am forged by a mighty hand,
And strengthened by the fire.







Waiting for the Coming of the Light  

You lie awake and you cannot sleep
You’re waiting in the darkness of the night.
Sadness fills you, but you cannot weep
How can you say goodbye?
                                                                                                              
You toss and turn and toss and turn
and the night is long
You can’t believe you will never
 see them and now they’re gone

 You’re waiting for the coming of the light
 You’re waiting for the coming of the light.

Were they strong or were they weak?  
It doesn’t seem to matter now.
You can’t think or feel a thing, 
but still your mind goes round and round.

What do they see and know? 
Where have they gone?
And what kind of life and world 
do they now hold on to?

You’re waiting for the coming of the light  (2X)

If you had a choice they would never leave,
But God has taken them away
Souls—they strain and bond and weave
In distance and night and the light of day.

Pictures of love and life 
so near and far
So many ways and times 
they tested your heart

You’re waiting for the coming of the light
You’re waiting for the coming of the light.







Meditation on the Sermon on the Mount            

Blessed are beggars of spirit,                          
Who thirst and endure.
They lay no claim to merit,
Their hearts remaining pure.

Persecuted and reviled,
Righteous, but still merciful,
They bring heaven’s peace to this world,
In harmony of soul.

Let all wrongs be forgiven,
Receive comfort and mercy.
Enter the realm of heaven,
Find transparency and peace.

We shall be called God’s children;
The salt of the earth,
When we behold Him,
And become the light of the world.





Where the Lamb of God May Rest His Head

In a place where evil is stayed
The priest will bless and break the bread.
All will gather to serve and pray
Where the Lamb of God may rest his head.

Let us prepare a space for the altar to stand,
Where words of reverence can be said.
A sacred shelter upon the land
Where the Lamb of God may rest his head

Where the gospel will ring out and be heard
By both the living and the dead,
For beloved offering of gesture and word,
Where the Lamb of God may rest his head.

To build a home upon the earth
We will raise the roof beams overhead
Forever renewed, the Saviour’s birth
Where the Lamb of God may rest his head.






           Brain Injury:  An Imagination

I do not remember how it happened,
Only what people have told me.
I did not think anything like this
Would ever happen to me.
There must be a reason for this.
I do not know what it is.
I am no longer who I was.

No one cares if I prove myself;
It only matters to me.
When I am with others
I can forget myself,
But many who knew me, shun me,
And patronize when I explain.

My day is a patchwork
Which I will mend together.
My intention threads the needle,
But show me where the stitches go.





                 Galatians 5

Allow the spirit to give your lives structure,
Or your earthly senses will drive your desires.
For bodily desires are against spirit.
Flesh is opposed; the two are in conflict.
You can not do what you want to do
When the merely earthly leads us to:

Unclean and lascivious sensual cravings,
Perverse practices of sexual gratification,
The desire to wound and stir up discord,
And magical playing with the sensual world,
The compulsion to quarrel, denial, and dissension,
And idolization of the world of the senses,
Enmity against all that has soul and has life,
Enslavement to matter, leaving nothing left,
Except gluttony, excessive drinking and eating,
Of this I have given you frequent warning:
If your actions are determined by these powers
The kingdom of God will not let you be heirs.

But the way of the spirit 
Matures many fruit:
Love, joy, and peace, faith, and forgiveness,
Gentle patience of soul, self-mastery, and goodness.

Against these, the Law will say nothing
But, those who to Jesus Christ do belong,
Crucify their earthly-physical nature,
The cravings and bodily passions it nurtures.
If we owe our life to the spirit,
We will order our lives by it.
Let us  beware of all vanity,
And avoid competition or envy,








Revelations of John 5

In the right hand of the One
I saw seated on the throne
Was a scroll inscribed on both sides
With seven seals shut closed

And then I saw a powerful angel
Announcing with great zeal,
"Who will open and read the scroll,
Worthy to undo its seven seals?"

But no being on the earth,
Under the earth, or in heaven.
Proved to be of such a worth,
As to allow the scroll to open.

Because the scroll was not read 
I wept; but then an elder said,
"See,  David's scion has won,
From the tribe of Judah's lion.
He will open up the scroll
And undo its seven seals.

And there, before the throne,
And the four living ones,
Among the heavenly Sanhedrin,
Appeared a Lamb, seeming slain.

It bore seven eyes and seven horns;
The seven Spirits of God sent forth.
They were given the entire earth
As their realm in which to work.

From the right hand of the One on the throne
The Lamb came and took the scroll
Then the twenty-four elders and four living ones
Bowed before the Lamb and fell.

They each held a harp and a censer gold,
With the prayer of saints, incense, full.

The song that they then sang was new: 
"Because you were slain, you are deserving
Take now the scroll, and its seals undo.
Your people are freed and shall reign as kings".
And then I heard countless angels
With myriad thousands rejoice.
Around the throne they circled,
And cried aloud in one voice.

"The Lamb that was sacrificed
Is worthy of honour and wealth.
He will be blessed with splendor and might,
And wisdom and strength of self."

Every being, and every creature,
Of the sea, earth, and heaven, then
Called out these words together
To He on the throne, and to the Lamb

To you belong all blessing,
And dignity of soul,
The light of the spirit, and of creating,
Through all cycles of time eternal .

And the four living ones
Said, "Amen, So be it!"
And the heavenly Sanhedrin,
Fell down again and worshipped.




	Easter                                  
 
He looked far and distant into us,
As his blood fell and touched the ground,
Transfigured in his consciousness,
Mankind no longer alone.

 “It is finished”, were his last words spoken,
As he drank deeply of death's cup.
His spirit was released, unbroken,
But it was not yet time to be taken up.

Into Hades realm he plummeted,
Where his glory was first revealed.
Death was befriended and illumined,
Overshadowed by his bright veil.

And all who recognized him there,
Drawn by his grace and counsel,
Were bathed in light beyond compare,
Cognizant once more of  themselves.

He rose after three days, and drew near
Two women on the road to Emmaus.
He listened some, then asked to hear
The cause of their distress.

“Jesus of Nazareth”, they replied,
“Was God’s prophet, before all of the people,
But he was condemned and crucified,
The one who would redeem Israel.

“His tomb was visited by some of our women,
Who found it empty when they arrived,
But then angels appeared in a vision
Proclaiming he was alive.”

He said, “You are foolish, and slow of heart,
To believe all that the prophets have spoken.”
Then told how Moses and all of the prophets
Spoke of Christ's death and his resurrection.

He later broke and blessed their bread,
And they recognized who he was,
Then he vanished from sight, and the women said,
"Our hearts burned while he spoke to us!”
They went to where the disciples had gathered,
And were told "The Lord has risen!
Indeed, he has appeared,
And shown himself to Simon."

As the women revealed what had taken place,
The risen Christ appeared,
And though he gave a blessing of peace,
They froze in shock and fear.

He asked, “Why do doubts appear in your minds?
Look at my hands and feet."
And because they required more signs, 
He asked for some fish to eat.

He said, "This is the meaning of my words,
Which I spoke while still with you,"
Then opened their understanding of scripture.
The prophecies about him had come true:

"The Messiah is to suffer and die,
But after three days to rise again,
So that repentance of heart and mind
Will find healing from the sickness of sin.

"Of these things you are the witnesses.
And soon the promise of my Father
I will send upon you from the heights,
To clothe you with its power."

He then was lifted high
To our Father in the heavens,
But none will spiritually die
Who accept his resurrection.

Death was overcome.
Christ rose and walked among us.
The Holy Spirit has also come,
Fulfilling the Father's promise.


 


I AM the Light of the World	     
John  8:  12-29

I am the light of the world.
To my own self I bear witness.
Follow me and have the light of life.
You will not walk in darkness.

My testimony is valid.
This you do not know,
But I know from whence I came
And also to where I go.

You judge by what is human,
But I judge by no one.
And even if I did
I would not be alone.

It is said in your law
The testimony of two persons is true.
The father who sent me also testifies.
He is my witness too.

If you knew me
You would also know my Father,
But you do not know me,
So you do not know Him either.

You will seek me,
Though soon I will be gone.
You will die through your sins,
And where I go you can not come.

I am from above.
You are of this world.
You are from below.
I am not of this world.

If you do not fill yourselves
With the power of my being,
As I have said to you,
You will die through your sins.

I have much to say to in judgment.
He who sent me is truth itself.
Only what I have heard from Him,
To the world will I tell.

When you lift up the Son of Man
You will know I am who I claim.
I do nothing from myself.
What My Father teaches, I proclaim.

He who has sent me
Has not left me alone.
My Father is ever with me.
What please Him, I have always done.






       Psalm 23

The Lord is my shepherd.
He guides me to fresh pastures.
By Him I am restored,
Beside His still and restful waters.

Your staff will guide and Your rod protect
To lead me on a path without blame.
Through the valley of the shadow of death
I will walk upright for the sake of Your name.

Of evil I now have no dread:
Prepare a table before my foes;
With refreshing oil anoint my head;
Fill my cup 'til it overflows.

The goodness and mercy of God's love
Shall follow me for all of my days,
And the house of my Lord above
Will be my unfailing dwelling place.








         Christ                
                                                                
A god without beginning became 
the new Adam, 
and a brief life, in ending, 
became the new story of God and man.

Christ entered the breach between 
heaven and earth. 
Through his timely death 
all was reborn.

And so began a constant harvest, 
the threshing of souls 
in the heart of Christ, a silent, 
almost 
imperceptible emancipation.

A redemption without measure,
an endless beginning,
all creation waiting and receiving him,

Moving with an unearthly certainty,
open, undefined;
a trust we are unable to comprehend.

Reborn through the mystery of his love,
changing and being changed, 
blessing and enduring; 
a constant lifting of veils.

Out of the firmament of silence 
the greatest deeds are spoken;
a life lived in fullness and in wisdom.

Yield, and stand firm. 
Trust, 
and go forward.
This is the working of Christ in us.
 
Our life is a seed and a parable.
Righteousness and compassion,
--these are our ears and eyes.

You have heard your life calling.
He is the one who sent you,
and who waits.

You must remember him!





The Sun

The Sun in the spiritual world is not surrounded by darkness.
It does not turn or hide itself away from us.
I is always before us, surrounding 
and penetrating us, opening and enclosing us.
It does not withhold itself by time of day or by night.
Its light belongs to all, yet its brightness does not strain.

Life is only a seeming eclipse.
We return--and all is day!
There was no misfortune
Nothing, nothing was lost, or lacking direction.
We absented ourselves for a moment.
Time passed.  Duration was endured.

The light is not separate.
It is radiant, always present, always receiving us.
Do not only hope for this.  It is your very being.
Be alert.  Recognize and behold that Sun.
It is yours, and for all the Earth.





Prayer

O Father,
All of heaven calls Your name.
May all kingdoms hear!
We give thanks for our bread,
And for Your mercy.
May we remember You
In each other and in all things.
Please preserve us and keep us whole,
For you are our Lord and God, forever.





                       When I Saw the Future

One morning I woke up and saw the future.  It was very excited and seemed to be running around in circles.  I could see that it wanted to be friends.  I thought that it was too much for me and I asked it to go away.  It would not be put off and came with me everywhere.  When I imagined what life would be like with it, it did not seem to suit me.  

Eventually, we got talking, and went out for a beer together.  It was pretty entertaining and told me some wild stories.  It said that it had some great adventures in store for me.  When later, at home, I sobered up, I found that the future had moved in with me.  It was disruptive and rude.  It cleaned out my fridge and would not stop eating.  It said that it was hungry.  My cupboards were bare.  I told it to leave--I was starving!  

It ignored me, then went to the living room and lay down in the middle of the floor.  I thought that it would just take a nap, but it slept around the clock.   I couldn't wake it up.  Days and weeks went by.  I couldn't even move it.  Eventually, I forgot about it.  I was glad that I finally had some peace.    

When it finally woke up, months later, it seemed to be running circles around me again.  It would not stop or go away.  Finally I said:  "Get out of my face!", and swung out and tried to hit it.  Nothing.  A few more wild swings.  It had disappeared.  I was angry, but relieved.  

Time went by.  Every now and then I imagined that I saw the future, hiding behind a tree, or getting out of a car.  I think that it waved to me from a bus once, but I can't be sure.  It might have been someone else's.  I'm much older now, and I kind of miss it sometimes.  Occasionally, I feel that it is following me around.  Some of the things it said have come true.