life: acoustic & amplified

poetry, quotes & thoughts about life

Archive for the category “mystery”

watch & pray

 

HIDING is a way of staying alive. Hiding is a way of holding ourselves until we are ready to come into the light. Even hiding the truth from ourselves can be a way to come to what we need in our own necessary time. Hiding is one of the brilliant and virtuoso practices of almost every part of the natural world: the protective quiet of an icy northern landscape, the held bud of a future summer rose, the snow bound internal pulse of the hibernating bear.
Hiding is underestimated. We are hidden by life in our mother’s womb until we grow and ready ourselves for our first appearance in the lighted world; to appear too early in that world is to find ourselves with the immediate necessity for outside intensive care.
Hiding done properly is the internal faithful promise for a proper future emergence, as embryos, as children or even as emerging adults in retreat from the names that have caught us and imprisoned us, often in ways where we have been too easily seen and too easily named.
We live in a time of the dissected soul, the immediate disclosure; our thoughts, imaginings and longings exposed to the light too much, too early and too often, our best qualities squeezed too soon into a world already awash with too easily articulated ideas that oppress our sense of self and our sense of others. What is real is almost always to begin with, hidden, and does not want to be understood by the part of our mind that mistakenly thinks it knows what is happening. What is precious inside us does not care to be known by the mind in ways that diminish its presence.

Hiding is an act of freedom from the misunderstanding of others, especially in the enclosing world of oppressive secret government and private entities, attempting to name us, to anticipate us, to leave us with no place to hide and grow in ways unmanaged by a creeping necessity for absolute naming, absolute tracking and absolute control. Hiding is a bid for independence, from others, from mistaken ideas we have about our selves, from an oppressive and mistaken wish to keep us completely safe, completely ministered to, and therefore completely managed.
Hiding is creative, necessary and beautifully subversive of outside interference and control. Hiding leaves life to itself, to become more of itself. Hiding is the radical independence necessary for our emergence into the light of a proper human future.

☺️💞☺️
HIDING by David Whyte

   
All the things hidden in my heart

Like Mary, the mother,

Watching and observing Jesus. 

Being the witness of the unseen miracles 

The keeper of all I have seen. 

My faith is real,

because I have experienced great acts of God,

faithfulness

on the inside, and outside, of my life,

In the daily progression of my journey.  

You can’t take any of it away from me. 

I know what I have seen.

This is not my daddy’s faith

This is not my momma’s relationship. 

This is all mine. 

Intimacy 

Walking together. 

Miracles. 

Clouds and colors, 

falling stars and pillars of fire,

pointing the way. 

Falling in love. 

Commitment. 

Yes, the words of Jesus changed my life,

When I began to live them daily. 

When I stepped into the great unknown. 

Became an observer of my own soul. 

Became open to the door of the unknown. 

Became comfortable with being uncomfortable. 

Fell in passionate love with grace. 

Walked through the unlocked door into freedom 

All the hidden things will be revealed

All the hidden things will be proclaimed

All the hidden things will be shouted from the rooftops. 

All the hidden things will be joyfully sung at the top of my lungs. 

All the hidden things will remain hidden no more. 

💖

AL

    

them bones… them dry dry bones

  
Around 15 years ago now

I took a business trip 

Somewhere in the middle of Florida

I was hostess for a community meeting

to talk about a new electrical line route and sub-station 

proposed for this area

by the electric company I worked for at the time

I was with a team 

We stayed in a local bed and breakfast

I had breakfast with a married couple 

from somewhere west of Orlando,

can’t remember the town,

who were prophets of God. 

Don’t ask me how I know,

I just do. 

I was still learning to open to mystery

(my fundamental Baptist background 

was being constantly challenged)

and I was early in my ‘testing’ to find out if God was really real,

I was early in my healing from the abuse, 

shattering and loss I had gone through in the past years of my life. 

Then, somehow, this couple and I were alone together –

the rest of the team out checking out the project route. 

I ended up in their room.

I told them some of my story. 

I sang for them. 

They prayed over me,

anointed me with oil,

proclaimed and prophesied my future. 

They wrote prophesy down on paper,

then burned it in the fireplace. 

It was all a little weird and surreal,

more than a little scary,

and yet I knew they were sent there, 

at that very place and time,

because God sent them there for me. 

I do not know their names,

I never saw them again,

the business card they left me had a number which was not active – 

Curiosity made me call that number a few weeks later. 

Number not in service. 

I never told anyone about this. 

It was a very strange episode I kinda ignored. 

I’ve never spoken, or written, about it since,

until now,

all these years later. 

It keeps coming back to me lately,

since I recently spent an unexpected evening with 

one of those project team members I was traveling with on that fateful trip.

I still don’t understand it,

but I am grateful,

I realize how far God’s grace has lead me 

since the day of my unexpected, mysterious, anointing. 

AL

  
  
  

reborned

 

The days are cold and brown,

Brown fields,  no sign of green,
Brown twigs,  not even swelling,
And dirty snow in the woods.
But as the dark flows in

The tree frogs begin

Their shrill sweet singing,

And we lie on our beds

Through the ecstatic night,

Wide awake,  cracked open. 

There will be no going back.

April in Maine by May Sarton

 

 Though I know better
the trees look dead.

Here and there a little prison 

of ice is forgiven.

Little green hands reach up through leafmold

and I can’t let go.

A door opens inside me
I didn’t know was there.

________________________

Weather Report
Possibility,

which only recently 

seems to have become possible

though it has been riding upper currents

from the other side of the world.

A clear front develops

as everything emerges from within.

Expect variable conditions,

and completely predictable

intermittent surprises.
__________________  

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net

  
 It seems we have made pain 

some kind of mistake, 

like having it 

is somehow wrong. 
Don’t let them fool you— 

pain is a part of things. 
But remember, dear Ellie, 

the compost down in the field: 

if the rank and dank and dark 

are handled well, not merely discarded, 

but turned and known and honored, 

they one day come to beds of rich earth 

home even to the most delicate rose. 

🌹

selected from A Poem for My Daughter by Teddy Macker

 

 I am ready
when a voice has spoken,

a path opened its arms,

ready to resolve and to follow.

And if not I am ready to be still,

and more still yet, 

to wait,

to shed my wants and fears,

my wishes and words, and even 

the words I have for the silence

and for you, 

until not I but you speak

and I follow.

And when I have resolved,

and I am sure of myself, 

and my wishes reappear 

in the costume of devotion,

help me to return 

to be still and listen again.

Another Eve. Another Day. 

I yield to you fully,

and ask you only 

to help me to return

and to return

and to return,

to be still and ready

each day. 

__________________ 

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net

magical moments 



Look, your longing swung from the trapeze.

The clown is you as well and the tame tiger

who begs for mercy calls someone to mind.

Even the tin-pot music

has its charm; it seems

you’re starting to make peace

with your times

(everyone else has,

why not me? —you say).

So why then does the circus tent

rise above an ancient graveyard?

🎪

Circus by Adam Zagajewski

Translated by Clare Cavanagh


  
I didn’t intend to eat my

Chocolatini until last…

It was my shooting star!

My most special-to-look-forward-to,

my magic bullet,

my favorite,

intention for the ending of the box.

Saved.

Cherished.

Savored.

Longed for.

But then,

I finished my book.

I finished reading

The Night Circus,

and my chocolatini is the closest thing

I could find to a chocolate mouse

to celebrate with!

What a cool book!

I have not read a novel for a long time,

have not found one that captured me in years…

until now.

No hesitation with my truffle choice today –

it was the best show of respect,

and gratitude to stories,

to writers,

to imagination,

I could give.

The circus arrives without warning…

the circus of dreams…

and we are swept away by the very taste of it…

🎪

AL


  


  

I just went to the circus for the first time last night

My super-secret-surprise

Was awesome!

I’ve always wanted to go!

I wonder what I would have felt as a child

I was so sensitive

I think I would have closed my eyes

And cried

I almost felt like that at age 45

I’m glad you held my hand

 

It was

The ultimate show of over consumption

A spectacular spectacle

A mix-match of the brilliant and the bizarre

Awesome and cheesy all wrapped to go

From beginning to end

Never taking a breath

Pounding and pounding

The ringmaster

Ablaze with rhinestones

The acrobats and the clowns

The elephants and the tigers

Horses

(Doing tricks

They didn’t seem to really enjoy)

As they steal the show!

Animals are amazing!
I love trapeze artists flying so high

The bearded lady and the wild man of Borneo

Made honorable mention

With a clown act

That was tongue in cheek

in our PC era of art
Men balancing women

And women balancing men

Each showing their skill

As they contort their bodies

into abnormal positions

sequined outfits

shining in the lights

Motorcycles in a steel ball

4, 5, 6, 7

until it is a blur

how can they do that?

Meetal Man (we renamed him Meatball man)

Holding up astounding weights

As people pile on top of people

On top of him

Trampolines, glitter

Pirates, stilts, dancing beautiful girls

Dancing lion suits

With two people rolling in harmony

under more people in lion suits

more and more

too much to see

too much to process

too much to comprehend

my eyes trying to go 2, 3, 4…different directions

as it plays on and on

with tired children crying

and spilling snowcones

and popcorn

as the parents

(Many a freak-show themselves)

try to ignore them

 

It is spectacular

Breathtaking

Overwhelming

Slightly disturbing at times

A Mix of over-blown showmanship

and

amazing talent

The beautiful and the weird

All mixed together

Delivered at breakneck speed

With so much energy it wears out the eyes

And my mind

Which definitely can’t comprehend it all
I loved it…

and I wanted to run away…
Yes, this is the legacy

of what PT Barnham had in mind

This is the circus!

Magic

Slight of hand, smoke and mirrors, lights and flash

making everything more

brilliant than it could possibly be

This is definitely, over the top, big-top

Self declared…

but it still could be true…

…the greatest show on earth!

🎪

AL

  

  

find art sources at http://www.pinterst.com

love is in the air 

 

HAPPY EASTER! 

   

  
I open myself to Your love

I move into being Your beloved

I allow myself the gift of confidence

I allow my insecurities to drift away

I stop trying to impress you with my gifts

with my ability to love you enough

I don’t have to prove anything

I have to be willing to trust

The keys to the kingdom 

come through my laying down 

surrender

like you on that cross

for one reason only

because you love me passionately 

I can’t help but love You

I will give up my way

and trust Your plan

Your resurrection

Your love

no matter what comes

running with patience

knowing that it’s all for my good

because I know You 

You have restored my soul

You have given me life

Surely goodness and mercy

now follow me everywhere 

like cute puppy dogs

playing on the green grass 

licking my face 

with happiness

love keeps changing me

every flower is grace

🐰

AL

  

2…the space between  

 

 “For us women the spiritual life, in one way, is easier than for men. Only a certain temperament of man can surrender like we can surrender. And spiritual life is surrender. Bhai Sahib said, ‘Women are taken up through the path of love, for love is a feminine mystery.’ He said we women do not need many spiritual practices. We need only to renounce. Renounce what? Renounce the world. Complete renunciation, which is the most difficult thing for the woman, is necessary. I had to do it—to give everything away. Bhai Sahib said to me, “You cannot say to the Beloved, ‘Oh I love you, but this is mine, and so far and no further.'” You have to give everything away, including yourself, in complete surrender.”
💞

~ Irina Tweedie (20th century Russian Sufi mystic)

 

  

 

 

Yesterday, this poem (below) resurfaced. I wrote it a while ago, after a disappointment. It immediately spoke up and wanted to appear on the blog…I said, hmmmm, do I really want to go there in public? It kept saying, yes (and refusing to be ignored). OK. Surrender brings humility. Rejection beings a chance to learn new layers. Love, and life, require courage. 

 So, I am posting this poem for whoever it is for…
 

 have you ever given,
or received,

a gift –

unwanted,

or misunderstood?
We’ve built a whole retail myth of love 

from giving, 

mostly, 

unwanted gifts. 

‘Re-gifting’ is a popular side effect 

of things taken,

out of obligation,

by others who don’t want, 

or think they need,

the present presented. 
It’s a thing in relationships as well,

it takes two to tango. 

If one person is wanting something,

the other is not able to understand,

or accept, 

it just doesn’t work. 
This week I experienced a return. 

My greatest gift,

the gift of me, 

held out to another. 

My gift was not wanted,

so, eventually, I withdrew

this large, tall gift of 

myself, 

complete with all I have to bring to a relationship. 

I wanted to share this with someone,

who I love,

but that person doesn’t want the same thing I want. 

This gift of sharing all of the various shades, shapes and colors of our souls 

in this amazing thing called life. 
One of my lessons,

hardest learned –

you can’t give someone something, 

if they don’t want it. 
I have become mindfully committed to 

not allowing a glimpse of possibility,

or potential,

to derail me from what I really want.
Never. never. never….

settle,

Never. never. never….

quit!
You can make lemonade from lemons, 

but

you can’t make a silk purse

out of a sow’s ear. 
This week I received blessed closure. 

The final collapse of space held for another to enter

The invitation explored, 

expired, 

I moved into new, beautiful space. 

No more allowing,

or trying to give myself

to someone who didn’t really want what I have to give. 

It’s not wrong,

it’s just painful. 
Unconditional love is free,

living and giving it 

requires responsibility to living my highest and best 

and requiring that in return. 

I believe in it,

completely, 

however, 

it will cost you,

change you,

require much more than cheaper versions of love. 

Not everyone can accept the responsibility of this gift,

which always requires the best of us,

the same in gift in return,

knowing its value,

tenderest of care,

thinking of the other, 

stepping out of our ego, 

into its vast ocean of mystery,

life changing grace. 

This week I followed the gift full circle. 
I woke up a bit sad, 

truthfully, for both of us,

but new,

released from the wish of what was not to be. 
I hope to be able to re-gift it soon,

to someone 

who truly knows how to value it,

nurture it,

return it to me,

equally,

with the dream,

the vision,

of what could be,

if we build an ark of this love,

sail into the mystic

and invite the world 

to the best party ever…

Water into wine,

has always been,

just the beginning of miracles!!!!!

❤️💔❤️

AL

  

Good Friday 

 

 Copperleaf Lane is dancing in white,
like a row of brides,

as ready, 

as they possibly could be 

to say, I do. 

I drive through the flower strewn pathway

feeling special,

like life is unfolding,

just for the love of me.  

I am beloved, 

a daughter of graces,

twirling within this beauty,

this bounty,

the world’s abundance falling freely around me. 

I sing,

la dee da dee da

You keep filling my senses,

you keep walking towards me,

smiling,

that beautiful heart of yours,

held gently, 

tenderly,

within your hands –

the perfect gift

for a girl like me. 

Heaven is holding its breath…

counting intensely…

1…

2..
❤️

AL

  
  
TURNING TOWARD HOME 
The moment you have spoken the exact words that describe your distance from where you want to be, the moment you have uttered the exact aching dimensionality of your own exile, you have already turned around, faced the other way and taken the first steps on the long awaited journey home… 

🌳

David Whyte

THE THREE MARRIAGES

Re-imagining Work, Self and Relationship

   yesterday I was born a leaf

a small fragile tender wisp

trembling as I hung on the vine

yesterday I was a gust of air

short lived, but not insignificant 

full of bone rattling cold and hat disturbing bravado

yesterday I was a large, slow, snow flake

plopping down like a wet goose feather

making the world a magical place

yesterday I was a world made of glass

lying shattered on the floor

hoping to be recycled into a new and useful object

yesterday I was various people

a student, a host, a friend, a lover

feeling my way into the next moment hoping to find a way home

yesterday I stood tall as a tree

proud yet with humble confidence 

accepting what winter brought, gently weeping, 

embracing this brand new life bringing

spring

🌿

AL
 

here’s the thing…

what’s a girl to do with all this happiness?

what sort of containers can hold this amount of wild joy?

will howling at the moon help disperse it into the world?

or dancing in a beautiful fountain, with you, bring sanity?

what if I shout it proud to everyone I pass on street? 

will they clap to hear my good news? 

will you wish me happy for every morning and evening? 

will you take a train, plane or automobile to see me? 

will you hold me & tell me that I’m the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen?

will you love me with all you are for everything I am right now,

and ever will be becoming?

living well is my best revenge

won’t it would be nice to share this happiness? 

do wild and crazy things?

come on, everybody,

let’s let joy flow in big puddles all around us,

till we jump like children,

till we swim in the ocean of all this blessed grace

🌫

AL

black n white

 

find more amazement from Tyler Spangler @  http://tylerspangler.com
🌗
I reason, Earth is short —
And Anguish — absolute —
And many hurt,
But, what of that? 

I reason, we could die —
The best Vitality
Cannot excel Decay,
But, what of that? 

I reason that in Heaven —
Somehow, it will be even —
Some new Equation, given —
But, what of that?

🌗

I reason, Earth is short… (301) by Emily Dickinson

 

 
I sink back upon the ground, expecting to die. A voice speaks out of my ear, You are not going to die, you are being changed into a zebra. You will have black and white stripes up and down your back and you will love people as you do not now. That is why you will be changed into a zebra that people will tame and exhibit in a zoo. You will be a favorite among children and you will love the children in return whom you do not love now. Zoo keepers will make a pet of you because of your round, sad eyes and musical bray, and you will love your keeper as you do not now. All is well, then, I tell myself silently, listening to the voice in my ear speak to me of my future. And what will happen to you, voice in my ear, I ask silently, and the answer comes at once: I will be your gentle, musical bray that will help you as a zebra all your days. I will mediate between the world and you, and I will learn to love you as a zebra whom I did not love as a human being.

🌗

I sink back upon the ground… by David Ignatow

🌗

 
In “Farewell to Arms” Ernest Hemingway wrote, “The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry.”

       – Ocean Palmer quotes EH   
   
photos found at http://www.pinterest.com

 

Little bird why you singin’ that sad song?

Makin’ me cry as I sing along

Did you know that your cage doors open wide?

All ya gotta do is just step outside. 
Can’t nobody stop you
Cause you were born to fly

Til you touch the sky

Friends with every tree

You were born to be free

And I’ll dance along 

To your freedom song
Little girl why you singin’ that sad song?

Cause he robbed you, now you’ve got no home

Think you’re stuck, locked inside of this damn cage

broken heart, broken dreams upon this page 
Little boy I know that song you sing

She’s not right, you can do anything. 

Cause your so much stronger than these chains. 

you are free and your freedom bells just rang
Can’t nobody stop you
Cause you were born to fly

Til you touch the sky

Friends with every tree

You were born to be free

And I’ll dance along 

To your freedom song
If we don’t use it

We ain’t free

It’s our choice 

It’s up to each

If we don’t choose it

We won’t ever be

Everything we were born to be
Can’t nobody stop us
Cause we were born to fly

Til we touch the sky

Friends with every tree

We were born to be free

Won’t you dance along 

To our freedom song

🌗

AL

put a little trust in it 

Wendell Berry wrote, “Faith is not necessarily, or not soon, a resting place. Faith puts you out on a wide river in a boat, in the fog, in the dark.” 

 
The things that haven’t been done before,

   Those are the things to try;

Columbus dreamed of an unknown shore

   At the rim of the far-flung sky,

And his heart was bold and his faith was strong

   As he ventured in dangers new,

And he paid no heed to the jeering throng

   Or the fears of the doubting crew.
The many will follow the beaten track

   With guidepost on the way,

They live and have lived for ages back

   With a chart for every day.

Someone has told them it’s safe to go

   On the road he has traveled o’er,

And all that they ever strive to know

   Are the things that were known before.
A few strike out, without map or chart,

   Where never a man has been,

From the beaten paths they draw apart

   To see what no man has seen,

There are deeds they hunger alone to do;

   Though battered and bruised and sore,

They blaze the path for the many, who

   Do nothing not done before.
The things that haven’t been done before

   Are the tasks worth while to-day;

Are you one of the flock that follows, or

   Are you one that shall lead the way?

Are you one of the timid souls that quail

   At the jeers of a doubting crew,

Or dare you, whether you win or fail,

Strike out for a goal that’s new?  

          ~ Edgar A. Guest 

  
let’s do something new

me and you

let’s travel uncharted territory 

make new maps of all we find
let’s create a new heaven

and a new earth

just by touching each other’s souls

tracing hearts around each other’s scars
let’s do something extraordinary 

something spectacular 

 something world changing

something wild
let’s create a brand new star

just by loving each other

so completely 

it starts a supernova of epic proportion
let’s do something fun

something we can laugh at forever

something to bring joy into the room

peace into this broken world

😃

AL

  

 

No pessimist ever discovered the secrets of the stars, or sailed to an uncharted land, or opened a new heaven to the human spirit. 

–Helen Keller

🌎

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

become the poem

 

1.
Have you ever been in the middle of things, not knowing which way to go? Do I move forward, do I turn back. Do I go left, do I go right. I oscillate between this choice and the other, turning and turning in place, which in itself is a decision, isn’t it.
2.

When I encounter turns in a poem, I feel the most delicious thrill. This is not a failure, this is a discovery. I have arrived at the centre, and now we are going to turn. Do we move forward, do we turn back. Do we go left, do we go right. Do we delve in between the lines in search for the truth, and is it a truth that will matter?
3.

The poem turns, and I’m either moved or not moved. Most of the time, moved. Most of the time, moved spectacularly, which finds me on my knees supplicating, more of this, yes, more of this.
4.

Day by day again, I arrive at the turning point. Do I get up or not get up. Do I live or not live. Do I let the body love what it loves, do I let the mind pay attention, do I lift my face from my hands, do I try being human for at least one more day?
5.

The poem and the world turns, both.

🌎

by T

https://readalittlepoetry.wordpress.com/2016/03/18/i-sink-back-upon-the-ground-by-david-ignatow/

  

God, lead me.

Your love is my morning star—awaken me;

my north star— lead me from what enslaves me.

I navigate by the star of your love.

I set myself for the long journey.
Give me courage to be led,

wisdom to let you lead me,

to follow and not stray, not turn back,

not go my own way.

Oh, pure star, save me from my own way.
I name those times I followed my own way…

and those times I followed your love…
May I see your star in my sky

and set my face toward it always.

Set my compass, God, 

and keep me from straying.

I let go of my need to know the way,

my pride that I do,

my fear that I don’t.

You lead me, and I trust, give thanks and follow.
In stillness I listen for your whisper,

I feel for your nudging,

I give myself

to follow. 

Love, lead me. 

__________________ 

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net

  
I could write a book on that…
I’ll write a poem instead
I’ll condense the whole story
into a few lines
a word 
or two
and 
there you have it

my full story

best version 

🌎
AL

  

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