Sometimes my mind seems to flicker
At the very edges of a new reality.
Ideas blink on and off,
Just out of reach.
A new fragrance hangs in the air.
An almost melody calls my heart.
The old understandings
Now fall like a chiffon drape
Ruffling in the wind
Across the window of my imagination.
What once seemed solid and sure
Is revealed as a faded fabric
Filtering the light.
Thomas Kuhn would speak of a paradigm shift:
The unmaking and remaking of foundational frameworks.
But the image I feel
Is that of walking through a series of veils,
Hanging on a line to dry.
Each reveals, even as it hides.
Each gives way to another.
Or, instead, I begin to catch the threads
As they unravel from an old tapestry.
I find that they can be rewoven into a blanket.
Beautiful and new, it covers all.
It holds fresh stories
Not painted on its surface
But cuddled in its folds.
[public domain image, drawn from wikipedia]
Of course we use metaphors.
Of course we try to understand the ineffable.
Of course we fall short.
Of course we try again.
Can you explain beauty
Or describe love?
It is all so marvelously immense.
I’m grateful – no thrilled –
To be a tiny part of a universe
That is so far beyond my grasp
And so filled with wonder
And so deeply interwoven.
I’ll never understand.
Isn’t that grand?
[photo by Andrew Kuznetsov per cc 2.0]
I think of soul as anything’s ultimate meaning, held deep within. – Richard Rohr, paraphrased
If you have not found your own arête, your true soul,
Then, you are in competition with all others
For a place in the universe.
When you do find it,
When it is shown to you,
All others become your siblings.
You can find brother sun, sister moon,
Uncle mountain, mother earth,
And cousins in all your fellow travelers.
The strength of others becomes
A bulwark rather than a threat
As you meld your different gifts into a greater whole.
When you find your part to play,
When you play in joy with others,
All the world befriends you.
The gift of being,
Even the gift of joining others
In discovering your mutual gifts – is, itself, a gift.
[the image above, by Ade McOran-Campbell has been placed in the public domain by the artist]
Sometimes I wonder if God doesn’t get impatient with me …
Again you fall?
Again you fail?
Again you find yourself in a mess?
Yet there is something
Deep inside me
That won’t let me give up.
That continues to call me to more.
What if …
What if that very call is God’s spirit,
Planted deep within?
What if I am made for evolution rather than perfection?
What if the voice of impatience is my own?
What if the slow, insistent urge to unfold,
To turn imperceptibly toward the sun,
Is the true expression of God’s response to my fumbling efforts?
What if the narrative of my life
Is not a fall from grace
But a release into it?
What if that was the plan all along?
Again, I must start anew?
Of course, of course.
Always anew; always more.
That is the call of God.
And if for me
For you, too.
[photo by Fadil Elmansour per cc 2.0]
sometimes when I sit quietly
the spirit of life whispers by
silently brushing my cheek
and sending the world into light
so that I can see a hint of the great wonder
that you are all in all
[photo by Renee Silverman per cc 2.0]
I write because I think, perhaps,
That my heart is a fractal –
A small reflection of a larger pattern.
And I think, perhaps,
That larger pattern dances
When I do.
[image by Nick Spratt per cc 2.0]
My dear little one,
Here is the eternal truth:
You were born of love; into love; for love.
From the start,
Our love flowed around you,
Holding you, cuddling you.
And as you grow into awareness,
As you begin to see and know,
Your laughter becomes our joy.
We watch you explore creation,
To make your own creations within it,
And we delight in your delight.
When you return our love,
When you smile at our smiles,
The day is full.
This exchange seems so deeply right.
It whispers of the love of God
That keeps creation dancing.
Could it be that God, herself,
Is whispering this same refrain
In my soul’s ear?