spirituality
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Let He Who is Without Sin Cast the First StoneTake up space in creation.You already do.Take your place in creation:Your place of creator and creature,As the imaginer, the imagining;What you slow grows; and what you let pass shall slip away at its pace.You see, there never were any rules.But if you want one, here:You cannot…
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If we choose to be, then we are reality articulating itself into existence as such. In saying “I am,” we at once give voice to God’s “I AM.”
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I have been thinking about grace recently. Psalm 42 says, “Hope in God, and you will praise Him again.” This strikes me because it seems that if you hope for grace, then you will have eyes to see it: or rather, you will attribute to grace what may otherwise have been attributed to chance or…
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Upon AwakeningFor what was I born?What did you want from me, youwho woke me from my slumber?Or did you just wish to show mewhat it was to be awake?To be surprise itself.To talk with a bird, on a walk, too small for my hands.To know the crunch of a pinecone underfoot.To feel the warmth of…
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Conversation with a TreeI ask the tree,“I know that my binaries are spectra,and every name’s a judgment.Any walls I have ever built worked both ways.But how far can I extend?And If I start, can I stop?”It says,“I grow upward because there is no limit;If I began from a height and extended downward,I would have fixed…
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When the Light’s Indigo (On Heaven and Hell)Relaxing a fistthat you didn’t know was closed.Radishes—how they wave their magenta redsThrough photon fields to find me.How mother’s voice gets softer when she sings.Where will I go when the light’s indigo?(and oh what a silly thing to say)But while I am still, you can bet thatBrick by…
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On Emphasizing the Out-BreathPlay your hunger.Strum it like a silver chord.Let it dance like a cool flameround the earthen walls ofthe fine ceramic vase of your body.Relish the out-breath.Without it there is no in-breath, no relief;Yet it is not only an assistant but a companion.Let it tickle your lip and whisper to youquiet songs of…
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A PrayerI offer to you, Lord, my confusion.I offer to you my extremes.Let me be as a sapling in the wind,bending to the vicissitudes of my mind,bending to the response of Your will.Let me see the gloryof a pine, deeply rooted:faith by nothing overturned.Help me to lookwith equanimity for truth;and to discoverthat my sight expands…
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The Three SingersI was brought downTo the place where all the world’s a poem, an art-garden,and all the people sculptors.Unwillingly admitted, in fact—a three-day sojourn among the cluttered, the broken-in.The fallen leaves, coloring still; not green again or yet(but greenness is self-serving anyhow).I met perchance three singers with one braided song.The song was mine, and…