life: acoustic & amplified

poetry, quotes & thoughts about life

Archive for the month “December, 2015”

gift

 

 Longest night.

Darkness falls like snow,

falls and falls, 

deepening.

Older than the universe,

here before it,

and will be after.

Wraps an arm around us

as if we’re old friends.

We are.

Darkness lives in us,

radiates from us.

We speak it.

Darkness is the velvet cloth

where you cherish the gem

of your presence among us,

darkness the womb,

darkness the manger

that cradles your light,

this holy being

that becomes us,

births us.

In the darkness

you do not come to us,

we come from you.

Because you are with and not apart,

even the darkness

is you.

Because you shine in it

the dark is our dark,

none of it unchanged.

Your being our light,

your hereness our life,

shining in the longest night.

__________________

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net

 

 To go into the darkness with a light 
is to know the light. 

To know the dark, go dark. 

Go without light and find that the dark too, blooms and sings 

and is traveled by dark feet and dark wings. 

– Wendell Berry 

  
Black. out. black. 

Black. on. black. 

Dark. on dark. on dark. 

I was simply looking for home. 

Not knowing the current alley would lead 

to where the sidewalk ended 

I stepped off the edge 

out of the world of light 

waking into morning night 

a banished sun 

no stars 

or moon 

or streetlights 

or fireflies 

or lighters 

in pitch darkness 

I lay, unable to move, 

senses adjusting 

to what is my new reality 

hearing the life 

that lives here 

wondering if I’ll make friends 

while I’m here 

learning this new space. 

🌌

AL

 

 Gift suggestions: 
To your enemy –  forgiveness. 

 To an opponent – tolerance. 

   To a friend – your heart. 

     To a customer – service. 

       To every child – a good example. 

          To all – love. 

šŸ’ž

           – Oren Arnold

  

letĀ 

 

   

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

   
 

  

followingĀ 

 

 On this day of your life I believe God wants you to know… 

…that there is a solution. There is. But you must keep

going to find it. You cannot stop, you cannot give up. 
This is about more than just patience. This is about 

more than just persistence. This is about absolute 

knowing that God is on your side. 

  

When you know this, you never give up…and the 

sense of struggle goes away. You simply keep moving 

forward knowing that, in the end, all will work out. 

And that along the way there will be great insights 

and wonderful remembering. 

šŸŽ‡

   – Neale Donald Walsh

   
God Path with Robin OK 12/17/15

🌌

 I won’t wish this pain away 

I’ll just trust You and obey

won’t search for treasure on this ground 

Cause in You my wealth is found 

I know this is right where I should be 

I will wait for Your light to shine in me 

I will praise You every day 

I am Yours 

Beloved for eternity 
Whatever will bring You glory 

Whatever will magnify Your name 

Whatever will bring You glory 

Whatever, my life is not the same 
Whatever will show you’re holy 

Whatever I do is for Your praise 

Whatever to tell my story 

Whatever, my heart will sing Your grace

šŸŒ…

AL

šŸŒ‹

Written on 11/22/13 at French Park in Cincinnati (first pic) Day before following God’s call to go to Louisville. $40 and no place to stay. I lived in my car for several weeks. ā¤ļø Miracles and adventures abounded….

loving you loving meĀ 

 

 I have loved in life and I have been loved. 
I have drunk the bowl of poison from the hands of love as nectar, 

and have been raised above life’s joy and sorrow. 

My heart, aflame in love, set afire every heart that came in touch with it. 

My heart has been rent and joined again; 

My heart has been broken and again made whole; 

My heart has been wounded and healed again; 

A thousand deaths my heart has died, and thanks be to love, it lives yet. 

I went through hell and saw there love’s raging fire, 

and I entered heaven illumined with the light of love. 

I wept in love and made all weep with me; 

I mourned in love and pierced the hearts of men; 

And when my fiery glance fell on the rocks, the rocks burst forth as volcanoes. 

The whole world sank in the flood caused by my one tear; 

With my deep sigh the earth trembled, and when I cried aloud the name of my beloved, 

I shook the throne of God in heaven.

I bowed my head low in humility, and on my knees I begged of love, 

“Disclose to me, I pray thee, O love, thy secret.” 

She took me gently by my arms and lifted me above the earth, and spoke softly in my ear, 

“My dear one, thou thyself art love, art lover, 

and thyself art the beloved whom thou hast adored.

šŸ¤—

Hazrat Inayat Khan, The Dance of the Soul

 

   

Photos found at http://www.pinterest.com 

  
 

brothers and sistersĀ 

 

 My soul sings praise to God, 
                  who has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. 

         God has brought down the powerful from their thrones, 

                  and lifted up the lowly; 

         God has filled the hungry with good things, 

                  and sent the rich away empty. 

                           ā€”Luke 1.46, 51-53

 

  

This dance is not the wrecking ball it sounds like.

It’s only that we’re startled that it’s love not might.
The blossom bursts the stone we live in. 

The Almighty naked and small, always, always.
In our vacancies the overwhelming Presence,

granting what we so firmly withhold,
saving what is beyond hope,

undoing our undoing,
lifting up what you despaired of,

putting to rest your own despotic king.
The righting of our upended minds.

Evil we can’t stop, stopped.
The mending of our grasp, and our failure to grasp.

Looking for love in all the right places.
In darkness thick as stone let there be life.

The truth of what is made of dust, or light.
Tyrants spew nightmares,

throw heavy shadows, heavy sounds,
but the poorest child defeats them.

A woman alive in her body shifts mountains.
She sings,

earth trembles.

__________________ 

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net

   

  

  

  

  

  

 there are kings in this world
and relatives of those who claim the title ‘king’

distant and weak

who still claim they are special

some call them ‘blue bloods’ 

some pretend that’s important 

that being of supposedly royal linage

is to be desired. 

Thing is, it’s an illusion,

a fake. 

Mean and ruthless men,

brutal thugs,

willing to kill and subject others for their own gain,

grasp power,

name themselves kings,

and we gladly make them into celebrities. 

Truth is each soul weighs the same. 

Truth is, the only king is Christ,

and he came to set us free from such brutal horror –

because love is the true royalty,

and love always sets us free. 

Truth is, we are each the 

Beloved, special unique creations of God. 

Truth is, many times we delight in bondage,

power is an interesting thing. 

we love our idols 

especially when we can claim to call 

ourselves,

our children,

princesses and princes –

no matter how diluted the shade of ‘blue’ we want claim as our own,

no matter how delusional we are,

how vain and arrogant.

how we have been tricked.

we have traded our true royal birthright

for a small bowl of beans –

which is sure to make us gassy. 

when will we realize the truly triumphant need no slaves?

love comes simply through our helpless infant self

and rides on donkeys 

through the streets of our world

God simply wants to be with us

Jesus loves all the little children

our hearts tell us so

if we will just look past the golden tiaras 

and listen 

we will hear the angels singing

The Hallelujah Chorus!

we all bleed from the same source

we are all true nobility 

we are all children of God

šŸ˜‡

AL

   

  

 
 

finding center

 

 I think that I shall never see 
A poem lovely as a tree. 
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest 

Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast; 
A tree that looks at God all day, 

And lifts her leafy arms to pray; 
A tree that may in Summer wear 

A nest of robins in her hair; 
Upon whose bosom snow has lain; 

Who intimately lives with rain. 
Poems are made by fools like me, 

But only God can make a tree.

šŸŽ„

Trees by Joyce Kilmer

   
photo by Jen Lemen

🌳

 The simplest things in life 

Are the most extraordinary 

Let them reveal themselves. 

– Paulo Coelho 

🌲

There is magic in every little thing. 

Your very breath is magic 

You, showing up on this tiny planet, 

at this very time in history. 

The way the sun glints off your hair. 

The way the trees recognize you. 

The way a child can turn their head 

and plunge you into grief. 

it’s all about perspective. 

Einstein reminds us 

We have a choice in how we live. 

One of two ways – 

As if nothing –

OR

As if everything –

Is miraculous. 

I’m so glad I choose to see the enchanted pathway. 

It’s always a fine day here. 

No matter what circumstance I find myself in. 

Magic abounds.  

🌳

AL

  

simply still

 

   


   

     
 

   

   
   
 In the sixth month already

of the impossible

Gabriel, 

so usually unseeable—

startling, 

though you thought him so foreign,

how nearer than you

to the seed of your life—

fills the room with his wings,

wraps with his words

this world 

beside God’s so small,

sets it in the greater one

among stars 

and you 

lit by the same light,

and calls forth your trust in heaven’s actual, 
—

for with God nothing is impossible—

the divine within, 

inviting your invitation

from even deeper in,

a Word, 

a world entrusted to you,

your being 

that by gift and labor blesses,

brought with singing

through the portal of this blood of birth

and that crucial other,

calling to life

in your drab littleness

the body of your holiness,

the flesh that God without you cannot have.

Even God waits 

to see the miracle,

the birth that only you can birth.

 ā€Øā€ØThere is no test for paradise,

only paradise.

Say yes.

 ā€Øā€ØšŸ˜‡

_________________

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net

 

  

http://www.designlovefest.com/2012/12/holiday-centerpiece/

 

 

things will fitĀ 

 

 We think we get over things. 
                   We don’t get over things. 

                   Or say, we get over the measles 

but not a broken heart. 

We need to make that distinction. 

The things that become part of our experience 

never become less a part of our experience. 

How can I say it? 

The way to ā€œget overā€ a life is to die. 

Short of that, you move with it, 

let the pain be pain, 

not in the hope that it will vanish 

but in the faith that it will fit in, 

find its place in the shape of things 

and be then not any less pain but true to form. 

Because anything natural has an inherent shape 

and will flow towards it. 

And a life is as natural as a leaf. 

That’s what we’re looking for: 

not the end of a thing but the shape of it. 

Wisdom is seeing the shape of your life 

without obliterating (getting over) a single                                        

instant of it.

😘

The Cure by Albert Huffstickler

  
 

Photos found at http://www.pinterest.com 

time to get quiet

  
some years ask questions 

some shake the foundations of our worlds

in a year of answers

be as quiet as possible

practice solitude

acquaintance yourself with silence

open your inner ears

listen for voices from other dimensions 

care for your soul

allow deep mystery to bloom

sit in nature

find spots of beauty to fill you up

take time

go slow

so you can hear everything 

waiting to be revealed

for such a time as this

🌪

AL

  

  

 

addictions of poetry Ā Ā 

  

 

 Slowly coming to acknowledge out loud that poetry is everything to me. I cannot live without it the way that others need love or religion or purpose or cause. Nothing, except the softness of the body, ignites me more. Nothing fills, feeds or illuminates me like this. To find a new poet is like being returned to an old love. To discover a lover of poetry is like being returned to someone from my original tribe. Completely thrilled this morning to be lying in my bed silently reading Nariyyah Waheed. Thrilled. Here are a few sweet lines. https://www.goodreads.com/author/quotes/7145613.Nayyirah_Waheed
   – Jen Lemen

  
I read poetry 

And it’s so familiar 

I like this way of words.  

I slip into the passion, 

the broken hearts,

so like my own. 

The depth of loving, 

it is my own. 

The beauty,

these words caught inside 

someplace within myself, 

suddenly breaking free from this other angle. 

Broken love, 

twisting in the wind of unequal relationships. 

The parables, 

the simple narrative, 

the stark condensed truth, 

the healing, 

the beauty of nature, home, love, life, laughter…

Anything can become a poem. 

Words strung,

so like my own way, 

yet not,

new, 

fresh,

sometimes not quite understandable, yet. 

I am in love with poems. 

I learn from their awareness 

I may get tired of my own heart wringing words,

I may get bored with my own platitudes, 

but, everyday,

I find the words in poems of another

to inspire me,

to allow me to see,

to teach me,

to make me laugh,

to get me through my day. 

Everyday I realize how much poetry means to me

I am so blessed to be a small part of this magic. 

I love poems. 

I need poems. 

I am a poet. 

That settles in a good spot within me,

as I settle in, 

with the perfect shade of coffee, 

to read my morning dose. 

šŸ¤—

AL

 

  

 Photos found at http://www.pinterest.com

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