life: acoustic & amplified

poetry, quotes & thoughts about life

Archive for the category “action”

rest in the miracle that has always already happened!    – Fred LaMotte


When the world does not conform

to the story in my head

I get a feeling that

“something’s not right.”

Why is the story in my head

not down-loading properly?
Why do I sense that the world

needs to be fixed

and I must repair what is “wrong”

by imposing my story

onto the mystery

of the ineluctable?
Yet the world is not a problem.

The problem is

there’s a story in my head
but it’s not quite the same

as your story, is it?
And so there is conflict,

there is suffering,

even if our stories are about

salvation, about justice

and equality, the perfect

marriage, the cleanest

environment, or gaining

enlightenment…
Happiness cannot arise

if we slather the world in the thin

veneer of our narration.

Happiness is the dance

of atoms ordered by

the dynamics of chaos

in the heart of the now

when we let both story

and teller disperse

like a fine mist,
when we let things clarify

all by themselves

the way silt filters and falls

through a mountain brook

in liquid transparency.
Now rest in the miracle

that has always

already happened.

Just shut up and see.

A rain cloud vanishes.

There are crystal drops on

blades of grass, each containing

the sun.
💫

SOMETHING’S NOT QUITE RIGHT by Alfred LaMotte

Let us go forward quietly, forever making for the light…

   Vincent Van Gogh 

these anniversaries 

the marking of dates

building Ebenezer memorials 

from the stones of help

bringing me to this place

tasting again

the bitter herbs

the roasted lamb

the flat bread

the milk and honey flowing over everything 

the fresh dates and figs 

of now

sitting with this

bitter-sweet

sweet-bitter

this life

this love

this past

this practice 

this present 

this grateful 

that gratitude 

that changing

this constant

this birth

this death

this resurrection 

always this love

ah this love

just. 

this. 

love. 

always the path of thanks

always the gifts presenting 

along the diamond road

this is my tradition

my version of holiday 

each one

my best of days

my worst of days

feeling it wrapping around my senses

these memories clouds 

wrapping around me

enveloped from behind me

me always facing forward

always facing toward the rising moment just ahead

the path before me the most important 

always remembering,

along with that other Southern Belle…

tomorrow is another day…

the best is always yet to be! 

🗓

AL 7/23/16 gratitude/tradition


Life

                                    truly             

                            is beauty                

                    beauty                                     

           salted                                                     

        by rare moments                                           

of exquisite suffering.    
 Life

  truly             

    is suffering               

              suffering                                    

  peppered                                              

           by rare moments                                           

of exquisite beauty.    

         

🌹                   

https://www.claudiuskeepsakes.com/collections/frontpage/products/duality-of-life-mug


there’s this summer song

of cool wind on my skin, 

playing sweet percussion through the tall, lush marsh grass

gentle water

invisible birds singing in surround sound

my heart resonates with the language we have spoken

the songs we have sung

the rich vibrations of our connection

over the past few days

the new sun warms my back

my shadow sits large

writing poems

this silence my gratitude

this morning my pleasure

this day my gift

this moment my life

thank you for reaching out 

for breaking through the darkness

for holding my hand
💞

AL


The worst isn’t the last thing about the world. It’s the next to the last thing. The last thing is the best. It’s the power from on high that comes down into the world, that wells up from the rock-bottom worst of the world like a hidden spring. Can you believe it? The last, best thing is the laughing deep in the hearts of the saints, sometimes our hearts even. Yes. You are terribly loved and forgiven. Yes. You are healed. All is well. 

     – Frederick Buechner 

      The Final Beast


Then I walked 

straight forward

out of the gate,

through the wood,

along the river,

toward the mountain
and I thought of the future

I could make in the world

if I walked toward it

like this,

with my face toward the hills

and my eyes full of light

and the earth sure

and solid beneath me,

walking

with a fierce anticipation,

and a faithful expectation,

with the sun and the rain

and the wind on my skin

and that old sense…

of many paths

breaking from one path.
So learning to walk

in morning light

like this again,

we’ll take our first 

light step

toward mortality,

walking

out of the garden,

through the woods,

along the river,

toward the mountain,

its simple,

that’s what we’ll do,

practicing as we go

and

we’ll be glimpsed, 

traveling westward, 

no longer familiar,

a following wave,

greeted, as we were at our birth,

as probable 

and slightly 

dangerous strangers,

someone

coming into view,

someone about

to find out.
Some wild 

and improbable risk 

about to break 

on the world again.
..
David Whyte

Adapted from LEARNING TO WALK

From RIVER FLOW: 

New and Selected Poems


so thug 


A bold and sustained outbreak of gentleness


We believe in the God of grace.

We follow the Teacher of Love.

We live by the Spirit of mercy.

We trust God’s healing of the world.
When people spread fear and division,

when evil, injustice and oppression thrive,

no political revolution, program or platform will save us,

but only a people transformed by grace and light,

and a bold and sustained outbreak of gentleness.
We will stand up to cynicism, hate and indifference,

and blanket this world with compassion, calm and mercy.

We will proclaim the truth against all resistance.

We will meet fear and hate with healing.

We will obstruct the progress of injustice 

with our prayers, our words and our bodies.

We will infest the world with grace and love.
We pray for open hearts and a spirit of deep listening.

We pray for courage to enter the wounds of the world;

for a spirit of peace to face violence with nonviolence;

for patience to answer darkness with light.

We pray for humility to offer ourselves 

as the first to be changed.

We pray for one another, for we are one Body.

We devote ourselves to sacrifice and discipline.
Giving thanks for the great spirit of grace

already breathing in us, already rising,

in hope and love, as the gentle people of God,

we go forth.          
        

__________________  

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net



with wings
 rough hands
 feet on bare earth
I want to become a continent of angels
 some common rarity so unexplored
unadmissable 
that even I cannot find where I begin or end
.
let this body become a borderless land
full of immigrants
artist and poets
whose only claim to fame is that 
they rushed to join this conflagration of 
unbound unexplored unknowable art
to enter full existence
.
who is to say what is real
in a universe so wide
and blasted unpretentious  
let us join this revolution
 wild eyes full hearted
as if this day 
is the only day the universe will ever exist
and yes you matter 
.
come with me 
join asunder
this world is fully ablaze
and yet none of us burn
like a kernel in the heart of the sun 
.
now I have come to understand 
the language of infinity
it is in the way you dress and speak 
and hurry along caressing the earth 
and me with it
some vision of your standard uranium golden globe reeking sun 
the perfect curve with no edge

———–
Adam A DeFranco (c) 2016



I am always amazed at the layers,

the levels, of the human experience. 

The never ending,

ever-evolving, devolving,

shifting, opening,

illumination, illusion-revealing,

conviction shattering, my gospel truth challenging, 

deep calling to deep, border breaking, 

darkness, light and color discovering, re-discovering.
This way of living I have stumbled onto – into – 

not because I’m so smart –

but because I asked,

I was given this priceless gift. 

This surprising path 

of a pilgrim,

of spiritual growth,

baby stepping my way to

healing, learning,

opening, Mystery,

more always reveals more. 

Always re-defining the definitions

of love, abundance,

grace, healing,

truth, error,

good, evil,

joy, suffering,

prosperity, poverty,

spirit, spirituality,

life itself becoming more with each step. 

My self righteousness becoming less important

with every glimpse of my Creator, my own Belovedness. 

Sometimes I understand how Peter must have felt when he saw the great sheet of unclean animals come down before him,

which God asked him to kill and eat,

He challenged with those same words I have heard from heaven –

“What I have named clean do not proclaim unclean.”

Challenging, very challenging, stuff. 

The stuff of humility and opening, 

the stuff of learning. 

Life changing/giving stuff. 

We want to think we know, that we are right. 

We want approval, to be able to judge. 

We want to earn our way, be worthy. 

It will never work. Thankfully. 

Then we catch the tiniest of glimpses of the Lover

and we fall on our knees,

breathless, undone,

aware of our need, our misplaced vanity,

stripped of our pride, our shoes,

amazed by what we have encountered, changed forever. 

full but ever thirsty for more – 
LOVE

💞

AL


I’m convinced of this: Good done anywhere is good done everywhere. For a change, start by speaking to people rather than walking by them like they’re stones that don’t matter. As long as you’re breathing, it’s never too late to do some good.

💞

— Maya Angelou 


what not to say…just bring french chocolates  


“Only he who cries… is permitted to sing…” is what Bonhoeffer said.



Only those authentic enough to lament, are authentic enough to love.
When everything is stripped away and you have nothing left and in all your bare vulnerability, there is communion with God. 

         – Ann Voskamp


I am bare naked

Down to my bones

Even my comfortable skin is gone

I shiver as the cold blows through me

I have cried many tears 

my song has been well watered

it blooms within me

true voice does not come without cost

Yet it comes

I choose

I let go

I choose

I lament

I chose

I grieve

I choose

I love

I choose

I commune

I choose

I learn

I choose 

always choosing 

new choosing in every moment

to continue to make the choices

which will bring the song

that fills the whole world

with hope, light and love

Thanks be 

to the the friends who stay with me

in silence we weep

in joy we laugh

always and always 

we sing 

🎼

AL


love breaks your heart for the sake of your heart…


If you have your health, you have everything

is something that’s said to cheer you up

when you come home early and find your lover

arched over a stranger in a scarlet thong.

Or it could be you lose your job at Happy Nails

because you can’t stop smudging the stars

on those ten teeny American flags.

I don’t begrudge you your extravagant vitality.

May it blossom like a cherry tree. May the petals

of your cardiovascular excellence

and the accordion polka of your lungs

sweeten the mornings of your loneliness.

But for the ill, for you with nerves that fire

like a rusted-out burner on an old barbecue,

with bones brittle as spun sugar,

with a migraine hammering like a blacksmith

in the flaming forge of your skull,

may you be spared from friends who say,

God doesn’t give you more than you can handle

and ask what gifts being sick has brought you.

May they just keep their mouths shut

and give you French chocolates and daffodils

and maybe a small, original Matisse,

say, Open Window, Collioure, so you can look out

at the boats floating on the dappled pink water.

🏝

French Chocolates by Ellen Bass


The Beloved says:

Be at peace;

         I am the strongest thing in you.

Over your dark, formless waters I brood;

         in your void I speak my Word.

You are my river and I am your flowing;

         you are my water and I am your sea.

I am the spark from nerve to nerve;

         the drumming of your heart. 

I am your blood’s dark alchemy

         creating life, this moment, life. 

In the night I am your nest;

         in the storm, your steadfast earth.

In the raging waters I am your breath;

         in your death I am your life.

I am the First thing in you,

         and I will be in you 

         when the rest of you is gone.

When your bones are shadows 

         and your sinews wind

a hundred years from now

         I will still be in your place,

         rejoicing.

Nothing is deeper than my desire for you;

         nor stronger than your belonging in me.

I am your Realm, and your power, and your glory.

         Be at peace.
__________________

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net





4 year anniversary of living faith following the cloud. Allowing God to direct every step I have taken…been an amazing, wonderful, difficult, miracle-strewn time. So grateful for every miracle minute. 

Big changes seem to be coming. Walk with me. Pray for me. 🙏🏻 So grateful for you. 

bits and pieces 

I gave myself permission to feel and experience all of my emotions. In order to do that, I had to stop being afraid to feel. In order to do that, I taught myself to believe that no matter what I felt or what happened when I felt it, I would be okay.     – Iyanla Vanzant


I have walked through many lives,

some of them my own,

and I am not who I was,

though some principle of being

abides, from which I struggle

not to stray.

When I look behind,

as I am compelled to look

before I can gather strength

to proceed on my journey,

I see the milestones dwindling

toward the horizon

and the slow fires trailing

from the abandoned camp-sites,

over which scavenger angels

wheel on heavy wings.

Oh, I have made myself a tribe

out of my true affections,

and my tribe is scattered!

How shall the heart be reconciled

to its feast of losses?

In a rising wind

the manic dust of my friends,

those who fell along the way,

bitterly stings my face.

Yet I turn, I turn,

exulting somewhat,

with my will intact to go

wherever I need to go,

and every stone on the road

precious to me.

In my darkest night,

when the moon was covered

and I roamed through wreckage,

a nimbus-clouded voice

directed me:

“Live in the layers,

not on the litter.”

Though I lack the art

to decipher it,

no doubt the next chapter

in my book of transformations

is already written.

📝

The Layers by Stanley Kunitz


there are people and places

which live inside me

I feel them 

as I spin the kaleidoscope wheel

they come into focus

moments 

smells

textures

visuals

each hold exquisite love

each hold delicately intense, brutal, suffering 

each hold ruthless trust,

radical hope,

extreme faith,

continual healing. 

each person,

each place a threshold 

of practical practice,

of growth and becoming,

of wrestling with letting go,

of spiritual teaching towards love,

of defending my tenderness,

of stepping into ‘I am’,

of allowing myself,

of removing the toxic tarter buildup of my own soul,

of seeing glimpses of the unlimited, ever-unfolding mystery. 

I’m so grateful for these people,

these places,

the ones I carry,

seen,

and those still before me,

as yet, unseen. 

🕘

AL

Just past dawn, the sun stands

with its heavy red head

in a black stanchion of trees,

waiting for someone to come

with his bucket

for the foamy white light,

and then a long day in the pasture.

I too spend my days grazing,

feasting on every green moment

till darkness calls,

and with the others

I walk away into the night,

swinging the little tin bell

of my name. 

🔔

Birthday Poem by Ted Kooser

threads that won’t break 


On Dec 3, 2014 (2 year anniversary of my living death in the dark night of the soul, I got a post titled Love never Dies from Jen Lemen at Hopeful World http://hopefulworld.org

Here’s a taste of what it said:
I am struck also as I write to you from this wintery desk, that building our capacity for stillness helps so much when the wild comes to our restless souls. Without that practice of being quiet, it’s easy to be scared when our wild, instinctual thoughts pop up. It’s easy to think that they are bad somehow or in need of corralling. But the practice of quiet and stillness helps us recognize our instinctual knowing for what it is: a call to our most true nature. A call to a kind of expression that is more vibrant, more textured, more passionate, more alive–even if it’s a little bit messy. Even if it kicks up a little bit of shame that we are this human, this raw.
So I invite you today to sit with me for three magic minutes. I’ll be right here with you, my own mind a rollercoaster of crazy, of frantic, of nonsensical worrisome things. I’ll sit with you and notice everything in my own soul, while you notice everything in yours and together we will begin to knit together an understanding of what’s underneath that noise: a gorgeous, exquisite tapestry of human longing designed to carry us to an awake magnificent place.
Will you join me?

Setting the timer now.

Let me know how it is on the other side.
With so much love,

Jen
It’s now 3.5 years later and Jen Lemen is still bringing all that, and more to me, to you, to the shaky, hoping world, to the edges of eternity…love never dies. 
Today, in this crazy, brutal brutal place, where we ask…
how can these two people be our Presidential choices?
how can people keep killing other people?
how can I deal with the grief and the fear of this? 
how can I help?
what is the solution? 
what is my part? 
Jen Lemen is doing her part. She’s offering Soul Snacks – 
http://www.thewayofdevotion.org/soul-snacks
Amazing gifts to all of of struggling, hungry, hurting, angry, frustrated pilgrims and poets. 
Right now she has open enrollment and I have just this…
Don’t wait! http://www.thewayofdevotion.org/soul-snacks
Gobble this up, savor it a bite at a time, eat them from start to finish, or nibble from the middle to each edge of crust. Savory, delectable soul-spices involving all your most subtle senses. 
http://www.thewayofdevotion.org/soul-snacks

💞

Keep wrestling, burn, scream, let go, melt, let your heart keep breaking for the sake of your heart, keep saying the names of your people, fiercely defend your tenderness, think, grieve, repair, renew, continue to do what’s in your heart to do…each thread matters…each color makes the world more beautiful…
in the end, only love is eternal, only love remains…
http://www.thewayofdevotion.org/soul-snacks

🔥

AL


We are God’s thread

weaving through the tapestry,

the masterpiece is slowly 

created. 

Potential for beauty, we can’t know,

    unfolding,

       becoming,

          revealing glory 

so bright 

it makes the sun squint 

and reach for sunglasses.  

Brilliance so far beyond ourselves

we go shining into the gray

as we open to the new jewels appearing,

sparkling in the moonlight. 

As we step into the needle’s eye 

the angels catch their breath,

cheering our blazing garments,

dazzled by the vision

God is revealing through the creation. 

As we surrender to the greatest mystery,

the beauty we inhabit 

becomes us,

walking in humble clay

eyes out shining the stars 

set in the heavens. 

Until we totally disappear and all that’s left

is holiness 

so pure 

all we can do 

    is 

bow in wonder 

at ourselves

and give thanks 

as the silk thread 

becomes liquid gold and silver

pure and simple

glory

as we realize our place in the whole. 

We are the temple of our creator. 

The home of God. 

😎

AL



As deftly and finally as one pulls out a thread

someone is weaving them, gracefully tying them,

minute and irreversible.
In the towering sky, even under the fortress, 

root tendrils muscle in and bind ligaments

through an abyss we had been told was absolute.
No enormity of terror

can keep up  

with the steady, unseen healing. 
Before the assault, the horrible wound, 

gaping and exposed,

the stitching has already begun.
Even as we sigh in our own world,

moving on, separate,

we are being sewn in. 
In the earthquake, the collapsing mountains,

not a bit of rubble falls

on the path from the temple.
If you could hold your immortal soul

in your hands, you would hardly recognize it

from one moment to the next.
Your grave is already empty. 
__________________  

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net


photo sources found at pinterest.com

otters and birthdays and glimpses of the mystery   


Yeah, so, the past month has been an intense one for me in every way. A bit emotionally brutal. We can all relate, I’m sure. It’s shown me a lot of new things about myself, also revealed some new glimpses of this mystical mystery named, so simply, “Love,” in our language. 

I’ve been a student of the nature of Love for the past 7 years, which doesn’t seem very long, now that I write it down, but, I have to report, just this short time of study, it has changed me in every area of my life. 

My studies are always, first and foremost, practical. To me nothing I ‘believe’ is worth anything if it does not actually work in my living to bring me healing, make me a better human, remove my baggage to reveal my highest and best self, lead me into paths of peace and load my arms with fruit to share with fellow pilgrims along the way…and, so, I began by asking God to reveal what love was and how love worked. 

My first flash came in 2009, riding on a CT commuter train from New Haven to Branford, looking at the marsh fly by. I had been asking for some days, intensely seeking, when God showed himself to me as ‘LOVE.’ That brief instant changed everything for me. I experienced the Aleph of The Mystery and left that train, completely changed a flash or, in real time less than 30 minutes…

Many wonderful writers have helped me along this open-ended, unlimited path of discovery on this topic. I must give much beautiful credit to Henri Nouwen, who helped me early on in my excavation of this topic. His revelations, and life surrendered to this mystery, have inspired much learning in my own voyage on this simple, yet so radical, path. 

Over these years, I felt lead to share some of my tiny bits of insight with others – it has just been so amazing! So beautiful! So everything – I just wanted others to open to it as well, to learn and heal along with me!  Over these years I have learned to be a writer and a poet. Until recently I didn’t feel I could claim those ‘titles,’ but I do now, just another way love has changed me. I am so grateful. 

This brings us to yesterday, which brings us to Frederick Buechner’s 90th birthday! Buechner is one of the best, most beautiful, writers ever. Sometimes I stop breathing when I read his words. I won’t say more, at this moment, as this is becoming a very long post, but here’s my best advice: read him! 

Recently someone, somewhere, on Facebook, posted words by poet, Fred LaMotte. They deeply touched me and so I ‘friended’ him. Then he began posting his words and I found myself on Amazon ordering one of his books. I received it last week, and it has been moving me into some very deep waters. 

Yeah, so, back to yesterday, I re-posted a happy birthday write-up about Buechner and then…

I got this comment from Fred LaMotte:

He was the reason I became a teacher and a school chaplain. When I was a 10th grader at Exeter Academy (near Boston) he was the school chaplain. It was before he became a writer. One dreary morning in late Winter, we were 700 half asleep boys in morning ‘Chapel’ (it was just an assembly really), and decided to read to us. He read the entire 7th chapter of ‘The Wind In The Willows,’ ‘Piper at the Gates of Dawn.’ It was very long and I think I might have been the only one stayed awake. It was amazing. Not only did it show me my first real piece of spiritual writing, but I thought, “Wow! This is his job? Reading to people about the great God Pan? I want to do this!” Thank you Frederick Buechner.

💞

WOW!! Then Fred LaMotte shared that chapter of the Wind and the Willows, ya know, the one that inspired some pretty intense poetry, which is, at this moment plowing up some new fields in my back forty…

Wow upon WOW!

Here’s that link. My advice: Read it!! 

http://yourradiance.blogspot.com/2013/03/piper-at-gates-of-dawn.html?m=1

I have not read The Wind in the Willows since I was a teenager, and, at that time I remember thinking it was rather stupid. My thoughts being something like, ‘Good grief, what in the heck is this about?’ 

Yesterday, I finally ‘got it!’ I broke down. I took my shoes off and bowed to the glory. Yesterday, a gift of love I offered was returned to me, unaccepted. I ‘got it!’ I broke down. I took my shoes off and bowed to the glory. There’s no right or wrong here, just gift. I choose to be only grateful to continue on in the, ‘yes and amen!’ of it all. 

I have no idea what Love (God) will teach me next. I am a very humble beginner. No Master here. Just a girl who cannot believe how lucky I am to be on this narrow road. A very unlikely pilgrim, I. Always wearing inappropriate shoes for climbing these steep hills, but somehow, always getting the view of the most beautiful sunsets imaginable. I guess it’s true what Babe Ruth said, ‘You can’t beat a man who keeps getting up!’

Here’s a song I wrote for my children’s musical about my life of faith, named: The Fantastical Inside-Out-Upside-Down Journey of a Rich Little Poor Girl 


 You Otter Know (verses spoken in the style of Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked by Cage the Elephant/choruses in Sinatra style)

I was walking in the forest 

I was feeling all alone

The birds and bees were sleeping,

the weeping willow weeping
Then I heard a little creature

Start moving oh so slow

and the little brook began to play

music with its toes

the woodpecker was keeping time

upon that tall oak tree

and I could not help start dancing

cause I knew it was for me

and as I whirled and twirled about 

I came upon a log

and the beaver and the otter (Frank Sinatra style Beaver. Sammy Davis Otter)  

were acting more like hogs (pushing each other to get to the log stage with microphone) 

and then they each began to croon

they’re words were oh so rare

I stood there for a moment

my foot still in the air
and they sang to me…
You otter know I love you

loved you from the start

(if you’ll beaver me

then I’ll beaver you

You never walk alone)

You otter know I love you

love your precious heart

(beaver me it’s true

I’ve always loved you

You’re never far from home)
and the band it just kept playing

and my happy heart did gasp

Cause this was so much better

than that silly talking a** 

uhhh donkey
Then my heart it felt so happy

and my eyes at last could see

That though I hadn’t been aware

You’d never once left me

and as I danced on down that path

 I swear I sang this song

The one my friends had written,

which had been there all along
and I sang…
You otter know I love you

loved you from the start

(if you’ll beaver me

then I’ll beaver you

You never walk alone)

You otter know I love you

love your precious heart

(beaver me it’s true

I’ve always loved you

You’re never far from home

💞

AL

Ephesians 1:4

Even before he made the world, God loved us and chose us in Christ to be holy and without fault in his eyes.  

New Living Translation




You don’t have to melt

until you are ready. 

Remember this:
Each moil of your unoiled joints,

every numb stiff gristle of resistance,

cramp of anger, clabber of shame,
clot of envy, opinion or belief,

is simply a mass of refusal

contracted into “me,”
a particle afraid to waltz

with its field, a wave

that will not settle to its sea,
a sky who thinks it is a cloud,

a self who didn’t give up

I-dentity…
Don’t let go until you’re

ready, friend. You have forever. 

You remember this:
To melt is not to pass away,

but to pulverize diamonds 

with your dancing,
watch the spiraling fire

of your body, and witness

the whirled. 

🔥

Alfred K. LaMotte


Some mornings 

I wake up a king,

anointed, anticipated,

shining.
Some mornings

I wake up a pilgrim,

on a journey yet unseen,

but on a road laid out

with adventures to be met.
Some mornings 

I wake up a mule.

No power to wield,

nowhere to go,

just me, just here,

dull and pointless.
Those days

I must be 

most vigilant and ready,

for my master 

is a good samaritan

and I never know

when I will be needed

for something luminous.

__________________  

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net


photo sources found at http://www.pinterest.com

if you look for me…


Nature, 

my teacher

my school

my temple

my shed

my friend

my lover

my passion

my peace

my darkness

my shining

my opening

my knowledge 

my quests

my mystery

my luminosity

my path

my return

my budding

my harvest

my seasons

my eternal 

my connection 

my uniqueness

my blush

my beauty

my ravaging

my savaging

my circle

my arrow

my path

my journey 

my longing

my desire

my tryst

my trust

my hope

my haven

my safety 

my risk

my skip-itty-doo-dah

the hair on my chinny-chin-chin

my space

my intimacy

my solitude

my family

my found

my faith

my dancing

my lame

my music

my words

my rhythm 

my song

my vision

my sight

my lost

my found

my sin

my soul

my tears

my laughter

my being

my belonging

my life 

my love

my looking in

my letting go

my begging

my abundance

my start

my stop

my end

my beginning

my heart

my skin

my senses

my fences

my flash 

my fire

my living

my death

my creator

my Spirit

my wound

my healer

my receiver

my giver

my adventure 

my wild

my silence

my sound

my doo-be-doobie-do

my fa-la-la-la

my going

my coming

my heaven 

my home

my ashes

my resurrection 

my grounding

my wings

my births

my deaths

my everything 

🌸🌻🌺🌾🌷🌹

AL


photos by Fisherman Dan @ Branford, CT


in the heart of the yellow sun

the great current

the blinding white stars 

over a blue sheet

.

when this age has passed

and thunder rolled back its 

ringing flames

nestled in the high pines                 

of course these wild atoms of your heart

.

swallowed by the great current

the burning wings

the wedding at cana

and so it happens

to each and all

water to wine

flesh to light

.

it is summer now

in the skies long house

a rib cage of heat and fragrance

surrounded by 5000

your a lifted fish 

or a loaf

in the hands of christ

.

it is no wonder now

you are surrounded 

by immigrants and thresholds

 as vulnerable as dew

 in a field of fire

.

it is useless now 

to utter

the unsayable

why would you want to burn redemption

when the whole world is an open secret

totally lifted 

and out of proportion

🌞
Adam A DeFranco

stand up now


The World needs people…

Who cannot be bought;

Whose word is their bond;

Who put character above wealth;

Who possess opinions and a will;

Who are larger than their vocations;

Who do not hesitate to take chances;

Who do not loose their individuality in a crowd;

Who will be as honest in small things as in great things;

Who will make no compromise with wrong;

Whose ambitions are not confined to their own selfish desires;

Who do not believe that shrewdness, cunning and hardheadedness are the best qualities for winning success;

Who are not ashamed or afraid to stand for the truth when it is unpopular;

Who can say “no” with emphasis, although the rest of the world says “yes”.

💪🏽

    – Ted w. Engstrom, from Motivation to last a lifetime


It doesn’t change when we stare at it from across the room. It doesn’t change when we sit in prayer and wish it away. It doesn’t change when we skirt the edges of the shadow. It doesn’t change when we pretend it’s all Go(o)d. It changes when we cross the sacred battleground willing to die to our truth. It changes when we look the lie in the eye until it has nowhere left to hide. It changes when we pick up the sword of truth and cut the falsity until it bleeds right through. The era of the sacred activist is upon us. Not the warrior run amok, but the benevolent warrior who fights for our right to the light. Some battles are worth fighting.

💪🏽

     – Jeff Brown


It’s not easy 
to do the hard thing
to lose 
to stand
to eat 
to sleep
alone
to wait
to be patient
to be strong
to allow the pain
the grief
the tears of exhaustion 
frustration 
weariness 
to press on
to refuse to settle
to believe in spite of loss
to keep the fire warm
to build wells
to send out love
to melt your defenses
to keep touching the lepers
to allow healing to come
to ruthlessly let go
to remain open 
and ready
to keep saying yes

not easy, 

well worth it
💪🏽
AL


where do you go from here?


Nothing happens by chance, no one goes on a quest without a reason, without the pull of the magnet there is no action.

💞

    – Rumi


When all the world is young, lad,

And all the trees are green;

And every goose a swan, lad,

And every lass a queen;

Then hey for boot and horse, lad,

And round the world away;

Young blood must have its course, lad,

And every dog his day.

When all the world is old, lad,

And all the trees are brown;

And all the sport is stale, lad,

And all the wheels run down;

Creep home, and take your place there,

The spent and maimed among:

God grant you find one face there,

You loved when all was young.

🌳

Young and Old by Charles Kingsley

I lay and watched your final breath

Lay in a pool of steel, blood and nashing teeth

All knew your smile and humor

I saw the life you were to live

So much love you left behind

So much more you had left to give.

 

Every breath I took was fire

Not desire, No silent repose

That life I was given back was given to chasing ghosts

No action, no deed, nothing ever was my own

From reverie to taps, a life spent chasing ghosts.

 

In times such as this,

What is born of such circumstance?

Death gives birth to so much mourning

That spawns life and living.

Your death gave birth to me

Achievements you will never see

Tears, monuments, poetry and prose

You gave your life,

I gave you those.

Just another life spent chasing ghosts.

👻

Chasing Ghosts by Charles Cooper




And then there comes a moment

when all you have suffered,

all you have learned,

all you have lost and found,

rise up and become. 

and suddenly you are 

here,

you are 

who you dreamed of being,

so many years ago. 

suddenly you have arrived

at what you caught glimpses of

for so many years, 

and the search,

the free fall of broken dreams,

broken hearts,

broken everything,

tumbling down rabbit holes,

stumbling over the feet 

of your own lack of knowledge,

is over.  

you find yourself on solid ground. 

stable. 

steady. 

raising your Ebenezer, 

those tributes to God, 

for all the mighty stones of help,

building this foundation,

on the solid rocks of your soul 

you know so well.  

and though the pilgrimage may continue,

though the journey is definitely not over,

though life is fragile,

and security an illusion.

there is a new sureness to your step,

a trusting unshakable,

a calm in it all, 

a new assurance of provision,

a new traveling song to be sung as you walk forward,

always forward.

always pilgrim ready for new adventures.

forgetting the names of what lay behind,

you press on to your calling,

the prize set before,

reveling in the mercies, ever new,

for each new day. 

there is no stopping now.

you have found something

which cannot ever be taken. 

you have arrived here by your own determination,

reached a place, 

both spiritual and physical,

a place of such magnitude 

the light shines from every angle,

it has sealed up the oldest sores,

bound up the deepest wounds,

satisfied the deepest longings,

changed everything, 

settled old scores with finality. 

no longer will you settle for less than you deserve. 

no more will you tolerate anything less than your own best and highest offerings.  

you must be all you can be. 

that is all. 

gratitude fills you for this place,  

a place so lovely,

it can bear up 

even under the weight 

of your hearts wildest desires, 

with just this simple name

it resounds inside our souls like a bell –

    home

yes, beloved,

     you are home. 

right where you belong. 

🏡

AL

This road is not for the timid or the faint of heart. not at all. But there is no other road. No one will simply wave a magical wand over you. It is a road of destruction and the question is, “How much are you willing to give up? How much can you endure?

Greg Calise read full article:

https://www.scienceandnonduality.com/you-must-die-to-live

commit to the process   


LIFE – the temptation is always to reduce it to size. A bowl of cherries. A rat race. Amino acids. Even to call it a mystery smacks of reductionism. It is the mystery.
As far as anybody seems to know, the vast majority of things in the universe do not have whatever life is. Sticks, stones, stars, space – they simply are. A few things are and are somehow alive to it. They have broken through into Someone, or Something has broken through into them. Even a jellyfish, a butternut squash. They’re in it with us. We’re all in it together, or it in us. Life is it. Life is with.
After lecturing learnedly on miracles, a great theologian was asked to give a specific example of one. “There is only one miracle,” he answered. “It is life.”
Have you wept at anything during the past year?
Has your heart beat faster at the sight of young beauty?
Have you thought seriously about the fact that someday you are going to die?
More often than not, do you really listen when people are speaking to you instead of just waiting for your turn to speak?
Is there anybody you know in whose place, if one of you had to suffer great pain, you would volunteer yourself?
If your answer to all or most of these questions is no, the chances are that you’re dead.

💃🏻

~ Frederick Buechner 

 originally published in Wishful Thinking and later in Beyond Words

maybe we should redefine the human body

this fleeting flash of existence

into something more manageable 

possibly use an oracle from a lost tongue

or something children can grab 

.

even the physical fact of your face

 stubble of rough beard 

its really an undiscovered haven of wilderness preserves

or some flashing blue temple of luminous fibers

.

you are a cloud capped tower 

the souls fiery predilection 

untamable fire 

 a great globe          

           a gorgeous palace 

melting into thin air

.

this coat of you

garment of flesh and blood

a miracle of armor protecting us from dust and plague

a kaleidoscope moving at the speed of light

 provoking an epiphany of star poems

.

law me down a border on the edge of this constellation 

so I can escape an ejected primordial comet of revolutionary escapades 

 before too long let us each and all reclaim human regeneration

and so welcome the clean space to become perfected art

.

you – 

 this blinding flash of condensed atoms 

breast arms and legs 

turmoil totally unmanageable 

welcome me into this new undefinable rouge ecstasy

like a galloping red bird of infinity  

before the dark void swallows me whole 

into a veritable contradiction of neo-forms

__________
Adam A. DeFranco

https://www.facebook.com/groups/1699576296948473/




I wonder if writing this poem
will spill you out of me
through my fingertips
will the ink become your blood 
this paper your skin
for me to touch 
again and again?

I wonder if stretching my hands to the sky,
while standing on my tiptoes
will release your wings
so you can fly free with me
into the starry sky
discovering all the worlds we have inside?

I wonder if I stand as tall, and as still, as a tree
you will come to me
climb up inside me
twist your arms and legs into my branches 
hold me close and never let me go?

I wonder if I sing you a love song
if I will become a part your soul
and you part of mine
both of us sewn within these chords
of mine and yours
absorbing each other 
into our very dna? 
Will we become each other? 
Forever becoming each other’s other?
mirrors of beauty
to dance inside the aleph
where heaven meets the earth? 

I want to know…

🌳

AL

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