Revealing

Revealing

In the darkness
light casts itself from an unseeing place REVEALING
the brilliance of the moon in her mystical setting.

Prayer

Prayer…
there are so many different
forms, so many varied
ideas, expressions, gestures and chants—
none more acceptable
than the other…

Now, when I pray
bowing my head or raising
my arms with the rise
of the sun…
words no longer seem
necessary.

The sacrament of SILENCE
born again.

Splashed

Splashed
Colors splashed

upon a naked canvas and SHE came alive—
Making her way to the surface…
she took a breath
then plunged back into the ocean’s hidden depths.

Backpack

Backpack

After awhile,
you begin to
’empty’ all
the hidden
‘treasures’ you’ve
been holding.

You no longer
need to put each
‘thing’ back in your
pack.

Maybe—you do not
need to put
any of the many ‘things’
back.

For so long
these ‘keepsakes’
have been reminders
of adventures taken.

NOW—they have
become a part of
the woven tapestry
of your being.

Your pack—
it’s getting lighter.
You no longer
have to ‘carry’ the
world on your back…

You can walk SIMPLY
carrying ONLY
what is needed
for today.

Kathryn Steinle

Kathryn Steinle…
Held in her father’s arms, all she was able to whisper was “help me dad
as another UNNECESSARY bullet ‘took’ an innocent life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ruffled Feathers

Ruffled Feathers
Go ahead…ruffle my feathers—
It’s then I’m even more beautiful.

Unknown

Unknown

There is something to being
known…
there is that sense of
validation, mattering and
giving our ‘being’ purpose.

Yet, as seasons
pass in my life
there is this burning desire
for being unknown…

Living each moment fully
yet, unrecognized—
savoring the communion
with life and all its
infinite pleasures without being noticed.

Celebrating the gift
we have in ‘our’
lifetime…

Every breath ‘ALIVE’
and
SILENT…

Fashioned ‘within’
the clay
from which we
were formed.

Grow

Grow… wherever you’re planted.

Hourglass

Hourglass

Each grain of sand
passing through the
hourglass—

Unseen like time
swiftly making its way
‘into’ the eternal sea—

Why wait for the last grain
to fall
carried ‘out’ by
the tide—

Catch the waves that come
your way—

better yet…

Create your own crest
and ride it ‘in’
to every new today.

Two Services

Two Services
Two services are going on today—
Which will you attend?
My wings are already stretched out…

Unclear

Unclear

The picture—skewed.
No-thing is clear…

Walking in this mist
I know what is out
there.  Yet,
perhaps I don’t.

I cannot see
what will be.
Later it shall
reveal itself.

Until then,
I walk in this
fog—UNAFRAID…

I’ve stepped
through this BEFORE.
Still, this time
it is different.

I’M DIFFERENT.
I ‘see’ even
in the inability
to cut through
this smattering
of particles.

Yet, when they rise—
I will be as
I AM NOW…

Letting go of yesterday…
Walking with NOW
and attempting not to
rush ahead for tomorrow.

UNCLEAR…you hold
many lessons.

So Small

So Small
My boat so small

the sea so vast.
When the waters churn
and my oars no longer
able to steer a course—
FINALLY
I trust, ‘letting-go’
knowing YOU are
leading me to
unknown shores.

Blame

Blame

How long must
we go on blaming?

Is it not enough
to observe and to listen
to the gentle rain
that at times
pours itself in
torrents
washing clean
the ‘massacre’ of
innocence—

NO-THING WON
NO-THING GAINED…

A silent voice RISES—
FORGIVEN.”

The soaked earth
reborn…
drinking in the
freshness of those
who
UNDERSTAND
WHO grasp
the message calling
for HEARTS to transform.

Beat, beat, beat—
ONLY words of love.

Let blame VANISH…

AND the places we bury
our dead become
GARDENS of Resurrection…

Hope forever held.

Faces of the fallen

Faces of the fallen
Their lives—A Gospel Message!
Love MUST reign in our HEARTS for them—for ALL!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rev Clementa Pinckney, Rev Sharonda A. Coleman-Singleton, Ethel Lance, Susie Jackson, Tywanza Sanders, Cynthia Hurd, DePayne Middleton-Doctor, Myra Thompson, Daniel L. Simmons

 

Forgive

Forgive
Forgive…begin with ‘yourself’
and then you’ll see how simple
it can be to forgive whatever is left.

I knew her when…

I knew her when

she ‘was’ the rising sun
waking early.
The whisper of the
morning, her companion,
paused with her
in prayer.

I knew her when…
she’d begin to plan
the ‘communion’ she
would feed her family.
It mattered NOT the
occasion—
it MATTERED her family
fed.

I knew her when…
she’d sing in church
like a bird on a steeple—
she’d sing SIMPLY
because the music
was in her soul.

I knew her when…
her BELOVED’S life
no  more…
a little piece of her
went with him.
She ‘clung’ to the
unknown
and sat quietly
REMEMBERING.

I knew her when…
she’d wait eagerly
for her family and friends
to call, to visit—
She enjoyed the gift of
PRESENCE‘ and she
knew how to be this
for others.

I knew her when…
her candle NOW beginning
to wane…
SHE, fiercely independent—
NOW, almost dependent
on everything…

she eats a pureed meal—
easier to digest…
she’d skip it completely
but NEVER leave the dessert.

she asks for HELP—
STILL wanting
to be involved
knowing her memory fading.

she loves the old stories—
she RISES with glee.
The past—a treasure.
She sees her life as a
blessing.

I knew her when…
the setting of her sun
now descends at a more
rapid pace—

I don’t know when
that day shall be—
yet, when the sun does
SHINE…
at least in the world I’m in—

in my heart
she’ll ALWAYS be.

 

Make Music

Make Music…wherever you are!

A Smattering of Angels

A Smattering of Angels…

pulled a lowly
vessel adrift at sea.

Their wings
magically steeped
in the wind
dipping then rising
creating a unique blend.

All through the afternoon
and into the evening,
their efforts
intensified
as if they were in
preparation for
a grand event.

Laying my head to
rest hoping I would ‘see’
what was ahead—
I drifted to sleep.

Suddenly, a wing
seemed to scoop my
restful spirit…
I dashed to the ship’s
edge…there they were—

The winged beings
turned into stars.
Their dance was one sweet
constellation after another.

We swung along the
nautical miles
as if soaring—

and the celestial beings
carried the vessel
through the night’s sky.

EVERYTHING

EVERYTHING
Why do we try so hard to ‘make’ our lives mean something?
Our lives already mean EVERYTHING
and in this ‘knowing’—
nothing else means more…

A Pretty Face

A Pretty Face

It’s a lot of work puttin’ on a pretty face.

Playing

Make time for play

Pilgrim…where have you been?

Pilgrim…where have you been?

For weeks
you followed yellow arrows—
‘markers’
pointing, guiding, directing
a way.

At times,
‘even’ though the signs visible,
you were so fixated in your
thinking that you strayed…

Not for long—
you sensed
you were off course…
still, for some unknown reason
you were meant to veer.

You turned yourself around
and found the ‘hidden’
direction your eyes missed—
and you continued the walk.

When you reached
the final marker,
YOU knew the journey
far from over.
In fact, in essence
it’s only now begun.

There are no more
yellow markers.
You’ve come to trust
what is only visible
in your soul—

A soul you’ve sought
and discovered
though you cannot
define ‘it’ with words.

Pilgrim…where have you been?

Yes, on an inward
path leading you
to this present NOW.

There is no going
back and you cannot
get to tomorrow
without first ‘living’
today.

Go gently…
touch the earth you’re
meant to stand upon
this hour…
don’t rush the minutes
or seconds…

In fact—
put aside
time
AND Live.

Who Is Looking

Who Is Looking
Who is looking back at whom?

This Solemnity

This Solemnity

There is a solemn
time of day
when creation holds its breath
for a single moment
preparing to be ‘reborn’
once again as the light
begins to lift the eyelids of
the night…

The union between
darkness and light
can never be contained—

Still, if you watch closely
the intercourse
shared between these two elements—
births a divine dawning
day after day,
season after season,
year after year.

This festive marriage celebrates
every moment of life—
even through mighty storms
and earth shattering chaos—
Even on placid
sultry moments
when all is so still…
so calm

ONE vanishes into another
creating and re-creating
the most perfect day—

The most mystical night…

We are born into this
This unity of beginnings—

No tomorrow will ever be again
and today is gift
beyond words—

Find a moment in
‘this’ solemnity—
to bend on sacred knees—

Touch the earth
and let’s sing
a hymn of praise…
in silent wonder—
Behold Holy Awe.

Building Castles

Building Castles…this day will never be washed away to the sea of her memory.

Caffeination

Caffeination

A shooting star
splashed into my coffee
‘drenching’ me in
brewed caffeination
Is that a word?
It hardly matters…

I’m dripping in a sweet,
savory blend of
galaxies, universes
beyond reach—BUT,
NOW they ARE all
in my single cup
of java…

I’m drinking it all
in while the
dark milky sky
bows whispering a
word of thanks—

I return the bow
and sip ever so
slowly…hoping
this cup will never
go dry—

Uprooted

Uprooted
She may be uprooted yet, she lives…
Her seeds scattered by the wind, carried by the birds, tossed in life’s tempest~~~
Her Garden is an Eternal Eden.

A Vessel

A Vessel

The horizon’s line
so far off—

The first row
of clouds moved in—

The waves began
to heighten
whitecaps
sprayed without landing
and the next rush
of water
stormed in.

One drop—
then another…
at first a sprinkle—
then an endless
downpour.

My vessel
tossing to and fro—
reaching, but nothing to
hold onto…
absent—any line to
attach to.

I was lost…
lost at sea.

No compass—
No direction—
I felt ‘some-thing’
nibble at my feet—
‘some-thing’ else
grabbed a bite—
I cried out…but who HEARD?

There was a strike…
I had no idea what
it was—
I was out.

When I awoke
the sea was calm…
the sky was a mirror
of orange and red hues.

This vessel—
my BODY
carried me.

How could I ever be
separate from
‘this’ ship
that holds my sail.

A Ride

A Ride

The thaw is coming…AND what a ride it shall be!

Consecrated

Consecrated
The very ACT of consecration is in the ‘baking‘ of the bread.

Wax

Wax

“I’m melting”…
No, not like that infamous
line from the green ghoul

I’m melting…
so many years
the wax spilling over
the edge of the
candle.

The light of my life
no longer at its
zenith…

BUT—
slowly
I’m learning to shine
in ‘newer’ ways.

Perhaps even
brighter
than when I was
casting a glow
that was reflected
back at me
from one person to another.

A solitary light
burns in my being—
so intense
is its flame

that I believe
when all the wax
has melted on the
surface

‘NO-THING’ will
extinguish the
pool of endless
waning wax
that is illuminated
without even
a flicker.

To Thirst

To Thirst

Their dangled arms
weighted down with stardust
which fell from
the center of the ‘eye’
adrift in the heavens.

One batted lash
after another
released a storm.
As the particles passed
beyond ozone layers—
they pooled through
gravity’s open door…

Tasting the frigidity of winter air…
each tiny speck blossomed
into an eloquent snowflake…
its single purpose

THIS MOMENT.

Now, held in the numerous branches
of the towering trees
each crystal formation…

SAVORED.

In the weeks to come
it shall drink until it is full
trusting its parched limbs never
to understand what it
means to THIRST.

Oh, to hold
when needed—
AND, let-go…
just when_________.

The Seasons—
so many lessons
each year…
Another reason
‘for’ growing into ALL
that is.

Mime

Mime
Real or not?
His unspoken message…
His silent ‘almost’ unseeing movement—louder than words.
Perhaps the true meaning of prayer.

A Lasting Supper

A Lasting Supper

Long, silent hours
grasped a blank page
flooding like a riverbed
with thoughts that cannot find words.

A single trout
hides beneath a bank
breathing
while the water attempts
to push it from its place—
it remains unmoved

until overhead
the hawk spreads its
wings, stretching out
its talons…

The fish dashes
into greater depths…
the bird rises
succumbing to
a morsel
within reach—
then gone.

Quiet…
all is hushed.
A certain melancholy
fills the stanzas
my mind creates…

I Am the trout,
the hawk
and yes, the
water flowing
in the riverbed.

I taste what is before me
until it is gone.
I’m left empty
my hunger satisfied—
a “lasting” supper.

No Matter

No Matter

No matter how cold it may be on the ‘outside’—
it is always warm ‘inside’ when you are beside another whom you love.

In Memory of Kayla Mueller

In Memory of Kayla Mueller
August 14, 1988 — February 6, 2015
Human Rights Activist/ Humanitarian Aid Worker

…some left home on ‘different’ missions AND their lives gone too soon from this world.
Silent heroes—let us never forget their longing for PEACE & HOPE.

The Artist

The Artist
Let us bring art to life again—
Brushes, easels, dabs of paint, pencils, chalk, pastels…canvases, blackboards, blank pages…
Let’s get messy and birth something NEW.

Writing You

Writing You

I cannot stop
writing about You.

You, whom I have
come to love like no other.

No matter how many times
I have tried to run from You—
I reach an ending and
You are there as a new beginning.

Now, that my physical being
can no longer move with the
swiftness of speed—
my mind attempts to empty any
thought of Your existence.
Then in the ‘nothingness,’
You are clearer than the light
shining on this once blank
page now littered with words.

Are my words ‘garbage?’
Oh yes, they are so easily
disposable because
they can never fully
write You.

Still, my pen drips with love
and words spill

I try again
and again
and again

to WRITE You.

Exhale

Exhale

A frozen stream…
I heard it flowing.

THEN, the sound of
snowflakes landing upon
my fluffy down jacket—

In the moment, EVERYTHING paused…
I HEARD the breath of God
EXHALE…

AND I breathed in the falling snow.

Rosa Parks

“Each person must live their life as a model
for others.”       —Rosa Parks

Saddened

Saddened

A heart so saddened
this day…
and why this day?
I don’t really know.
Everyday it could
feel ‘this’ way,
but the LOVE inside
will never allow this
sadness to stay for long.

Today, it speaks
like a voice from a
mountain top…
my heart beats aloud
and in words it echoes,
“How can you be so blind?”

“How can you ‘see’ all the
faults in others and not
look at your own face in
the mirror?  How can you
build walls of exclusion
and then ‘sit’ in your church
pews and hear a message…

‘Love your neighbor…’

Who is your neighbor?—
The very one you malign
while listing all your good
works.”

Have you forgotten love?

Love may be your enemy
since you no longer
know how to ‘reach’ out
except to ‘yourself.’

You say ‘all’ the right
‘things’ aloud but
your actions are all
self-seeking.

You ‘worship’ a cross
and still you want to
fight—you’ve missed
the message.

The message calling
us to follow a path
of transformation.

Remove the veil

The road is wide—
it only appears
narrow because so
few wish to walk it…

So many say, “Wait, I’ll
join you…I just have
to____________.”

In the end, will it matter?
Only your steps will tell.
You’re the only one
who can walk them…

If you choose.

Realization

Realization

You’ve always had
this ‘inkling’—
a knowing you’d try
to push aside—
at times
you’ve even tried locking
it AWAY.

Back and forth
you’d go
as if on a
teeter-totter
never really finding
your balance.

Still—you knew…
Often, when you were in
the circle of company
you thought your ‘kin,’
you could not be further
outside.

When you were ‘outside,’
you never had a sweeter
sense of peace, balance,
inner stillness—
Absent now was the energy
of denial, blame, shame, control, deception
and a ‘host‘ of others
that you’ve allowed yourself to consume.

But, the communion of
‘letting-go‘ has brought
the picture ‘into’ focus.

It is no longer an illusion—
it is a realization
you have known all along
but, chose to keep closing
your eyes.

NOW—wide open
you see, you believe
in YOU…

No ‘one’ can diffuse
your light—
yes, they’ll try…
but,
silently—be still.

In time their realization
will be unveiled.

It is your time—
LIVE it fully.

In Memory of Marcus J. Borg

In Memory of Marcus J. Borg
March 11, 1942 — January 21, 2015

…Christ’s life was the incarnate revelation of a nonviolent God…
The First Paul —Marcus Borg & John Dominic Crossan. pg 166.

Today

Today

I know there are a number of ‘things’ to be done,
but today…I’ll find time to rest.

Another Day

Another Day
‘Some’ One is out—LIVING in this season as if it were simply another day.

A Valentine Message

A Valentine Message
May your heart be filled with LOVE—
Better yet, may it spill out love upon all—
AND trust…it shall never run dry if it is love that is spilling out.

Must Go

Must Go

You MUST go for now—
I simply do not have the
space for you…

I’ve grown tired,
weary, and so I
must rest.

You’re not leaving, you say?
How you make me laugh…

Reminding me

That only now…
in my rest
I finally have
found you
WAITING—
always waiting
with such expectancy.

Dominion

Dominion

There is a Book—
Well known by some…
but, the story I think
misunderstood.

The first few chapters speak of ‘Beginnings’—a beautiful,
mythical tale (told in many other ways).

Still, a word stands out in the
tale—DOMINION…the “WHO”
that was given dominion came
AFTER all that had already
been created—

This “WHO” misinterpreted
dominion—it was NOT to
wield power over—
it was to WATCH over

AND ‘serve’ all so that
the Gospel of Life
could exist for eternity…

Almost sounds like
Heaven on Earth—

Now, there is a new concept—
well, NOT new at all
simply understood by
few.

 

Deep Peace

Deep Peace
Deep Peace Mother Earth covered by a white blanket—

a ‘Comforter’ made from billions of flakes…NO two alike.
May your rest ‘birth’ wonders that await us—SAVOR the wait.

Crystal Cathedral

Crystal Cathedral

The silent moon
lit the canopy of the rooftop
bedecked with
layer upon layer
of frosted snowflakes.

The temperatures dipped
below the “0” mark,
yet one single drop
formed over the gutter.

It froze before falling,
and then another drop formed—
cascading down the one
which preceded the first.

Sitting quietly
in my ‘nest’—
a cozy church pew…
I watched and listened
to the heat bellowing ‘inside’
and a distant owl
singing ‘outside’—
a hymn no choir could duplicate.

The window I looked out upon
began changing scenes…
mesmerized—I slid
lower and lower
astonished, yet again, by the artist
working in the night.

I could not lower my head—
I did not want to stop ‘SEEING’
and, yet, I wished
to bow in holy wonder—
a masterpiece being
created by invisible hands.

When the day
made its way in
I remained seated until finally
RISING from the chair…

A crystal cathedral
painted outside the window—

No Gospel verse
could re-create what
WAS before my eyes.

Behold—
behold
what IS!