It is there
Deep, deep within the forest
Deep, deep inside my soul,
Deep within the smiles and words of friendship
Deep in certain books or poems
It is there.
Some call it life force, or beauty.
Some call it prahna or pneuma or ruach.
Whatever it is, I find it undeniable.
It is, for me, the deepest reality, and best hope.
I think I’ll call it love.
[photo is my own]
There is an image,
An exchange I witnessed,
That has been percolating
In my memory for years.
You’ve probably seen it, too:
A young mother
With her infant bouncing on her lap.
They are enthralled with one another.
What flows between them,
Almost visible as their eyes connect,
Palpable in the air between them,
Is the exchange of life-giving love.
The infant is held by something
So much stronger than her hands.
The mother is upheld
With something just as strong.
Their gifts to one another
Are so tangible
So vital
So real.
Yet each is filled,
Not emptied.
Full of a love that will not be contained.
A rush of life between them.
This is love incarnate.
Love enfleshed; love fulfilled.
This is how life is passed on.
Birth is just the beginning.
Perhaps this shows me why
The Christ came to us.
To look us in the eye
And give us life.
God breathed upon the clay.
Christ looked on us with love.
The Spirit, now within us,
Empowers life’s eternal flow.
It is like breath:
Receiving in; giving out.
Each delightful exchange
Brings life anew.
[image cropped from photo by Robert Moores per cc 2.0]
God’s math is strange:
In an intimate partnership,
The two become one:
One in love – sharing one love.
And this strange God
Is also One, in intimate partnership
Among the three
One love inviting more into that circle
Even welcoming you and me
Into that very dance
Where the one love extends ever outward
A universe bursting out in deep relationship.
How lovely
And how strange.
[photo by Aftab Uzzaman per cc 2.0]
The whisper of ‘i am’ within my soul
Is the echo of ‘I AM.’
Its breath would not be
Without the greater breath of life.
Yet, your great mystery is veiled,
Lest i be overwhelmed.
You hold back in order to give room,
In order to give time
For me to be.
I feel your tug upon my soul,
Your fingers brush my cheek,
And my hope catches its breath
In deep desire of you.
It is the first light of morning,
It is the call of a new day
That lets me take brief notice
Of eternity’s heartbeat in my own,
Calling me to be.
In this strange universe,
It is the valence of relationships –
The rushing of electrons round the nucleus –
That holds all things together,
Even as it keeps them from collapsing in upon each other.
In such a universe as this,
Is it any wonder that the One God is a relationship –
An ever circling dance of love –
That both holds the whole and differentiates each part?
Well, yes.
It is a wonder.
[image – By JC713 [MIT (http://opensource.org/licenses/mit-license.php)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons]
Hope is worth the risk.
Just saying.
Even when the odds are low
And the world seems such a mess
And disappointment threatens
Hope, hope itself, is worth the risk.
It keeps the heart pumping
And the eyes open to what may come
And anticipates the sudden intake of breath
Brought by the delightful surprise
That is (hopefully) just around the corner.
Yes, hope is worth the risk.
And most especially when it is grounded
In resurrection –
The one that has happened
And the one that will happen, soon.
So … delight with me in the coming delight.
It’s ok.
Even disappointment cannot erase
The delight of sharing hope with you.
May you find the melody your heart was made to sing this day
May it flow softly, surely, out into the world
Giving hope those who wander close enough to hear.
May your soul know its part within the whole,
The part that makes it whole,
And sees that wholeness glistening in others.
May you wake beside your dearest love
And see them smiling at the sight of you
And feel their love enfold you.
May you hear the melody of God’s own dear song
Playing in harmony with yours
As it opens your ears to the symphony of life.
May it grace your way
And fill your day
With deepest healing and abiding joy.
[photo by Mark Moschell per cc 2.0]
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]
Quiet Hope 
