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THERE IS A RICHNESS OF VISION WHICH GROWS
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Poetry by Blake Steele
starting April 1993

 
INDEX

A...

ABOUT ANIMAL PRAYER AND COINCEDINCES

          1. THE BIRDS

AND THE DARKNESS HATES THE LIGHT...

              (TO THOSE WHO WILL NOT LIE)

ALL THE LIFE

AWAKENING THE WILD CHILD

 

B...

BLESSED ARE THE FEATHER GATHERERS!

 

C...

CAN WE THINK MUCH ABOUT LIFE WITHOUT LOVING IT?

"COME, I AM THE JOURNEY," HE CRIED.

       WE MADE HIM DOGMA!

CONCERNING, MATERIALISTIC PROSPERITY,

      WAR, PERSECUTION AND OTHER CALAMITIES

D...

DUALITY

 

E...

EDEN - B.C.

 

F...

FIRST THE NATURAL, THEN THE SPIRITUAL

FROM ISAIAH 62:5

FROM ISAIAH 61:8 *

FROM THE ELECTRIC WILDNESS

 

G...

GOD IS WAITING FOR US

 

H...

HOLY CREATION WAS IN A TRANCE

HOLY FAITH

 

I...

I AM HE WHO WAITS TO GREET YOU WHEN YOU WAKE UP

IT WILL BE AN ENCHANTMENT SO GREAT

 

J...

JUDGEMENT (A Comment On Isaiah 66)

 

K...

KISS AN IGNORANT STONE

 

O...

ON A TRANSDOCTRINAL RECEPTION OF CHRIST

ON BEING STRANGE CLAY BEINGS: LATERNS OF THE DIVINE

ON CHRISTIAN SPIRITUAL GROWTH

ON LETTING GOD REMAIN GOD

OPEN THE DOOR TO THE SPONTANIOUS CHILD

 

P...

POST MELLINIAL MEMORIES

POST MELLINIAL MEMORIES

 

R...

REALITY IS SIGNIFIED...

REBEL AGAINST THE SHALLOW, PRETTY PEOPLE!

RELIGIOUS TRAPS I.

 

S...

SEPERATING THE PRECIOUS FROM THE VILE

SOMEONE HAS FAILED TO OPEN THE HOMEWARD WAY

 

T...

TAKE TIME TO DREAM GOD'S DREAM *

THE AUTHOR OF OUR FAITH SPEAKS ABOUT OUR FAITH

THE FATHOMLESS DEPTHS

THE GOLDEN NAME OF A GOLDEN DREAM

THERE IS A HIDDEN FEAST

THERE IS A QUIET SEER

THERE IS A RICHNESS OF VISION WHICH GROWS

THREE MIRROR POEMS

TRANQUILIZING GOD

TRUE BAPTISM *

TWO WORLDS

 

U...

UPON ISAIAH 61:3

UPON THE RUDDY ROSE OF LIQUID GLASS

 

W...

WALKING SERAPHIM

WE HAVE CHAINED GOD'S WORD IN DOGMA

WE LIVE IN A GREATNESS NOT OUR OWN

WHEN I FORGIVE MYSELF FOR CHRIST'S SAKE I.

WHEN I FORGIVE MYSELF FOR CHRIST'S SAKE II.

WHAT IS POETRY?

WHERE IS THE HIGH LORD?

 

51 poems ?

Last Poem in file: CAN WE THINK MUCH ABOUT LIFE

   WITHOUT LOVING IT?

  

         ------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

 

THERE IS A RICHNESS OF VISION WHICH GROWS

 

There is a richness of vision which grows

as the heart softens, as the mind opens.

"Grow into a better vision," God seems to say,

"And...play in it!"

Jesus came.

The man stood like a flame of God,

His eyes clear with the clarity

of His own Spirit.

God shone through!

Everybody saw it,

(though not all believed,

even then in the light.)

Still, grace and truth flooded out!

"Where the Spirit of the Lord is

is spontaneity of outflow."

So said St. Paul,

though translators missed the implications.

"And Wisdom played in the earth," was an old Jewish proverb.

Here wisdom stood as a full and free man:

He shone with the light that births and becomes

and bore His freedom like a lover should.

His words were to the souls and the spirit

of the people

when He worked to illuminate the people.

But when He was alone,

(I believe this in my heart),

He bellowed his words, and roared His words,

and rang and sang His words,

soaring them out to touch the stars,

until they fell back down like rain

to swallow up animals in the wilderness

with rich, honeyed light.

He spoke in the night to the fish of the darkened sea,

and their scales glistened with His voice.

Glimmering fish sang silently His silvery words

in the morning's first light

as they were gathered into nets.

And their words to the fishermen were,

"Sons of men, you are loved!"

Even as the fish were gutted

and thrown roughly on the decks,

the light of His voice still shown

through their pearl-like eyes.

         *

Everything was then a flaming word of this man's Word

in a richness of vision which grew

as hearts softened, as minds opened.

And for those who could see it,

for a brief season

all common things shouted and danced!

 

 

 

               

 

   

THE AUTHOR OF OUR FAITH SPEAKS ABOUT OUR FAITH

 

Do not let religion shield the truth of you

from me.

Doctrines are doors.

Can you pass through them?

Let me believe in you.

 

 

 

 

 

ON CHRISTIAN SPIRITUAL GROWTH

 

How shall we imprison the life of our Lord?

Ignore Him. Ignore Him.

And how shall we loose the rivers of His Love?

Adore Him. Adore Him!

We must yield ourselves: all our light and all our dark—

do not fear, He will hold us!

Be sure we are known, loved and cherished

as we open our hearts to the risen Christ.

All feelings which deny the freedom of truth

come from the force of our alienation.

Listen with care to the voice which heals us

and unfold in waves of elation.

  *

Step aside, and let Christ through

in everything you dream and do.

 

 

 

 

FIRST THE NATURAL, THEN THE SPIRITUAL

 

One must develop a good eye and open ears

before a taste comes for sublime things

beyond sight and hearing, when the heart

cries out to awaken.

Outer beauty sags and fades

in countless small deaths

as inner beauty grows

in preparation for the big death

when the whole soul slips out

into the essence of beauty.

 

 

 

 

 

 REALITY IS SIGNIFIED...

 

 There is a transcendent wonder

 everywhere we turn:

 the worm, twirling in its brown hole;

 the ruby headed sparrow on a twig;

 the gray mouse atwitter in the grass;

 the prowling cat, with candle-lit eyes at dusk:

 each drinking essences of what they are

 through roots sunk into the Light of existence,

 the Source of earth and shimmering stars.

 What does each signify?

 the philosopher cries.

 An immutable resplendence beyond themselves

 the prophets reply.

 

 

 

 

THERE IS A QUIET SEER

(A meditation upon the philosophy of Heschel)

 

There is a quiet seer

who gazes at the seer.

The gazed at seer

most often grows undazzled by the act of seeing,

being too enmeshed in the unconscious act

of memory recall

and interpretation.

The ineffable becomes an image

with which, in our developing judgment,

we are familiar.

This image is in the gazed at seer,

being a miraculous mental reproduction

of the unknown reality

within which

the ever silent seer

who gazes at the gazed at seer

lives in ecstasies

so great

as to have rendered

it dumb.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 ON A TRANSDOCTRINAL RECEPTION OF CHRIST

 

 How shall we receive Christ?

 Receive one child

 in free spirited and holy love

 and behold, Christ is there!

 And the infinite, ineffable

 glory of the Maker is there!

 (From Mark 9:37)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 WE HAVE CHAINED GOD'S WORD IN DOGMA

 

 "Fire goes before Him

 and burns up His adversaries round about."

 Psalm 97:3

 

 

 "He comes to drench you in the Holy Spirit

 and in Fire," John said.

 "He shall cleanse his winnowing floor,

 and gather the wheat into God,

 and burn up chaff with fire that can’t be quenched.

 

 (The children hand out little paper flames

 to the congregation.)

 

Jesus said,

 "...Cut off hands, pluck out eyes

 enter life or enter the trash heap’s fires

 where worms don't die,

 where fire isn't quenched."

 

 And the next verse, (an ignored quote):

 "EVERYONE shall be salted with fire..."

 Have the salt (of fire) in yourselves

 and live in peace with each other."

 

 Everyone baptized in Gehenna's fires?

 The Holy Spirit the salt of fire,

 the fire of Hell?

 Gehenna now? Gehenna burning up the trash,

 incinerating the chaff?

 

 Misinterpretations? My deep soul cries No!

 We must long for the fires of Gehenna now!

 How much do we love our trash?

 Will we forever encase our living kernel

 in worthless chaff?

 Let us be salted with the consuming fire of hell now

 and be free of it forever!

 

 The secret stench fades away;

 the grain is ground into holy flour

 and is baked to be devoured

by God’s teeth.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 EDEN - B.C.

 (Or, I wonder why they never thought

 to simply say I'm sorry)

 

 God moves up and down

 in the breeze of the day

 saying, "Adam, where are you?

 The sky pours down

 its essence of blue.

 Adam is nervously hunting,

 killing animal brothers

 for their skins.

 God moves up and down

 in the lime green breezes of the day

 crying out, "Eve,

 come and let me kiss your beautiful body

 with sunshine, let my flowers fill

 your tumbling hair."

 Eve grieves in shadows,

 sewing together her bloody clothes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 I AM HE WHO WAITS TO GREET YOU WHEN YOU AWAKE

 

 To known that which we have refused to know

 because of our fear of it;

 to be in union with the unclaimed nightmare

 in the garbage dump of the spirit world

 is Hell.

 Hell is where the trash is burnt up.

 King David said, "God is also in Hell."

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE MIRROR POEMS

 

  I.

THE DARK MIRROR

 

Desolate in His bitterness,

the hateful man cursed out into the dark,

"I don't believe in you God!"

And a voice echoed back,

unheard by his atrophied inner ears,

"I don't believe in you."

 

 

 

  II.

CALLING THE MIRROR

 

Every moment of every day

God says, "I cherish you soul,"

and then waits, like an avid fisherman

who lets his fly drift over a likely hole

waiting for a big fish to strike,

God breathlessly anticipates

for the soul to rise and echo His voice

that God and the soul might both rejoice!

 

 

 

  III.

THE BRIGHT MIRROR

 

I whispered, "I love you Lord,"

and heard my own name whispered back,

"I love you poet."

I said again, "I am for you,"

and heard back again, "And I am for you!"

My heart, feeling the boldness of love,

spoke once more,

"I will cherish and honor you my God,"

And the voice of quiet spoke a third time,

with all the authority of eternal silence,

echoing back the contents of my soul.

 

 

 

 

 

 AND THE DARKNESS HATES THE LIGHT...

 (TO THOSE WHO WILL NOT LIE)

 

 Wherein is light and shadow?

 Light and shadow lie most evidently

 in the heart of the one

 who journeys towards the city of no shadows.

 And the darkness hates the light,

 though the light loves the darkness and everything.

 

 

 

 

 

 REBEL AGAINST THE SHALLOW, PRETTY PEOPLE!

 

 Strike out against the tyranny

 of the shallow, pretty people;

 the appearances which have no soul.

 Rebel against the business of loveless beauty.

 Flow powerfully against the tide!

 Let the compassionate people

 --the true meek--

 arise out of the shadows

 and serve in clear light

 God and all beautiful goodness

 which gives the spirit life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 ON BEING STRANGE CLAY BEINGS:

 LANTERNS OF THE DIVINE

 

 We are made of the dust of the earth.

 We are strange clay beings

 who live:

 beings who hold the priceless miracle

 of life's consciousness.

 We are clay images

 of the boundless divine—

 He who is light and spirit!

 He enters us at times

 like a bird, alighting suddenly

 in a tree. The tree ecstatically shivers!

 Or, again, our clay is alit

 so sublimely, we barely know it:

 Have you ever felt sunlight moving silently

 upon the open sea?

 Consciously, or unconsciously, (no matter),

 He comes!

 But when Life is poured fully into life

 there must be fire!

 And, whenever the wick burns,

 —the lantern glows.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 HOLY FAITH

 

 To mourn with a song

 is the highest expression of faith.

 

 

 

 

 

 TWO WORLDS

 

 We must stand in the center

 we must stretch out our arms

 into two worlds.

 Where two worlds overlap

 we are!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 SEPARATING THE PRECIOUS FROM THE VILE

 

 We must learn what is vain.

 We must escape the vacuous pursuit of the vain.

 We must purposefully and radically abandon the vain.

 The release slowly comes.

 We become a free people!

 Look! The vain grows precious!

 

 

 

 

 

 ON LETTING GOD REMAIN GOD

 

 It is as we learn to release,

 to surrender all to God

 so that God might remain center and source,

 first love and supreme purpose,

 then we can be entrusted with more influence,

 more of the passing, fickle,

 meaningless acclaim of humanity.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 ALL THE LIFE

 

 There is more life than we can conceive of

 in one twig on a bush.

*

 A bird lands on the twig and sings.

 The boundaries of amazement blow out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

RELIGIOUS TRAPS I.

 

The refusal to spiritually grow

makes the mind like a stone.

"Write the law upon the Stone again,

to make us secure in our knowledge,"

so says the Pharisee of every age

and religious persuasion.

Paul said, "This is a ministry of death."

The glory has faded. The beauty diminished.

Yet, God grows...

When Jesus was born,

(after the star stopped shining)

he crowed out into the fields, "Joy!"

and doves flew down.

And when three years had passed,

he remained in the heat of his innocence,

"Let the fields rejoice!" his little voice shouted,

"Let the mountains sing."

Birds hopped around his feet,

and he exuberantly scattered them into the sky.

The scribes, meanwhile, were studying things,

like what to do with blood money,

so they could teach their sons

how to use the law to crucify God

when their time came.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

SOMEONE HAS FAILED TO OPEN THE HOMEWARD WAY

 

It is the world that is fallacious,

fabricated by humans

that have not listened to the trees

to hear their psalms;

that have not unclasped the book of the wind

nor observed the liturgy of water.

Someone has failed to open

the homeward way

and children are crying.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

FROM THE ELECTRIC WILDNESS

 

From the electric wildness

of some little girl's hair

to the slow essence of swans

creation is speaking.

Its visible syllables

are a power

we are far too dull to

to be reckoned a sane race.

Therefore, the poet must be free

to sense and to speak.

And the poet's words

should sound something like this:

"Blue sky... Be Amazed!

Budding branch... Celebrate!

Bird on the branch...

Blow me away with Praises!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

   "COME, I AM THE JOURNEY," HE CRIED.

WE MADE HIM DOGMA!

 

   The royal child awakes.

   It is the wonder of a singing bird

   that is a kiss of God breaking the spell of sleep.

   Blessings pour in like hidden sunlight.

   A radical forgiveness starts to loose

   all powers for good.

   The Creator sings and recreates within the soul.

   All created things interweave their roots in light!

   Now Truth cries out for a beautiful justice among mankind!

   Seeing its path, the royal child is amazed and weeps;

   then, enchanted with all gifts,

   ecstatically begins its compassionate journey,

   loving all vile, ugly, wounded things to their death.

 

 

 

 

 

 GOD IS WAITING FOR US

 

 God is waiting for us,

 ringing His silver chancel bells of silence,

 flashing out His light for us to see:

 but we don't see, for to see is to wonder

 and we have tragically lost our sense of wonder.

 Where is our awe and wonder?

 We seek advantage!

 What of the unspeakable gift of one word;

 the ineffability of song?

 Where is the adventure

 of every little common deed?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 WE LIVE IN A GREATNESS NOT OUR OWN

 (About words of the Word)

 

 Everyday we live in the presence of a greatness

 not our own. All things cry out,

 "We are the mystery

 only wonder can began to fathom.

 Here is the ecstasy of freedom

 that is your fate.

 Come... and, choose it!"

 

 Every sparrow, flitting with inexplicable

 agility through tangles of twigs,

 is a word that speaks, "Wonder, and....freedom."

 Every tree cries out, "Come and listen to my

 heartwood. Hear in me the sacred silence

 which engulfs your forgotten soul."

 The sky pours down drinks of blue essence.

 The rain drops its pearls upon branches.

 

 These are words written by a luminous finger

 upon a page of infinite dark.

 These are a love poem, saying,

 "You are the mystery that you do not know."

 

 Have you sensed the sun is a word?

 His voice shimmers out, "Light is Love..."

 and,

 "You are all my fiery brethren."

 The moon too speaks riddles in runes

 with her silky, silver voice,

 "Light and dark, ebb and flow,

 do you your own deep psyche know?"

 And the stars...

 the ancient glittering stars are words

 that subtly sing, "We are the jewels

 of the crown which shall rest upon your hair."

*

 All things are words which mean more than they are!

 

 

 

 

 

 BLESSED ARE THE FEATHER GATHERERS!

 

 An angel flies over the earth

 and shakes her feathers in the wind.

 Each bright feather that drifts down

 is a poem, or a song for the glory of God.

 How blessed are the feather gatherers!

 

 

 

 

ABOUT ANIMAL PRAYER AND SYNCHRONISTICY

1. THE BIRDS

(From Job 38:41)

 

A young raven cries out,

"God, feed me."

Just then, a semi

runs over a jackrabbit on the road.

 

 

 

 

THERE IS A HIDDEN FEAST

 

Beyond our conceptualization of things

lies a feast.

It is the feast of the ever new

being birthed by the ultimate Being.

It is the radiance beyond our ability to see.

It is the music human ears rarely hear.

To enter the feast you must be growing

in the way of becoming

—it is the only door in.

(Fill your lamps,

with precious oil!)

This takes a dismantling of many concepts,

desires and defenses,

(the axe must be laid to the root of the tree).

This takes a resolving of many old grievances.

(Adam and Eve, take off your clothes and say

you are sorry!)

This takes a restructuring into a savoring of

life's spiritual essences.

(Lick your lips, wild child in the

Universe’s candy shop).

This takes a renunciation of life-essences to find

the One Source.

(Virgins, light up your lamps!)

This takes a releasing of the One Source to be

lost in the free Holy Being the One Source truly is.

(Upon the high mountains the lover dies into the

bridegroom's arms).

And then comes the fuller feast as God thinks us

even as we think God; as God wills us as we will God;

as God honors us as we honor God; as God blesses us

as we bless God;

Out of our innermost belly flows rapid rivers of life:

Is this what being born from above really means?

No wonder Jesus said the door into Life was narrow!

Thank God for His seeking, saving,

unspeakably spectacular, miraculous grace!

 

 

 

 

 DUALITY

 

 We live in the silence

 of the unutterable

 interplay of harmonic energies

 all of whose roots grow ever more sublime

 and inexplicable

 as they open out

 and are swallowed up

 into ineffable radiance.

 

 We live in the chaos

 of clashing energies,

 fields of malicious illusions

 feeding tragic delusions,

 the roots of which grow coarser

—shaking, clamoring, breaking apart—

 plunging down into the intensifying compression

 of the spawning abyss of discordant dark.

 

 

 

 

 JUDGEMENT (A Comment On Isaiah 66)

 

 And the holy hand of God shall be known

 as blooming in the bones

 or a menacing within the manacled mind.

 

 

 

 

 OH BRIDE OF MY HEART," HE SIGHS

 

 "Let Him kiss me

 With the kisses of His mouth,

 That I might awaken to sing!"

 she cries in her distress.

 Oh Bride of My Heart," He sighs,

 "I am always kissing you.

 Learn how to make My truth beautiful."

 

 

 

 

 UNDERNEATH THE HUMAN FRAILTIES

 SOMETHING TRUE COMES SHINING

 (To a Lilly)

 

 Certain souls sparkle with it,

 a quirky kind of thing to some,

 more like water falls

 and the free flowing waves of wind to others.

 Leaping out into an event

 beyond the boarders of self

 an unique moment of full life is born.

 I believe that when you stir your tea,

 whirlpools suck old ships down into the sea,

 and that when you crinkle your eyes and smile

 lions who where sleeping under trees

 in another world

 bound up to dance with gazelles

 in yellow grasses.

  *

 You know who you are.

 You've worn a cross around your neck

 —though haven't known the meaning.

 Will you grow to realize

 what your precious things are,

 and how to love them?

  *

 Why is it that you feel like my own sister,

 like my laughing soul,

 like myself with breasts?

  *

 I write to you what you will never know,

 that I love you from a great distance

 because I have seen

 in you

 the eyes of a free people.

 

 

 

 

 

 

HOLY CREATION WAS IN A TRANCE

 

Holy creation was in a trance

until we poured our souls to the sky

and down upon stones

to let them sink into earth.

When we became true,

clear thoughts rang out

of our minds like bells

to resonate within

the glassy foundations of God.

And the Lord came, even as His people

had long dreamt it would be!

Then a throng, painted like the birds of Brazil

and clothed in feathers,

danced out of every tree

as clouds shape-shifted into white horses!

And souls melted into a liquid tenderness

and ascended to the blue skies

to ride great energetic winds to the north

and to the south singing prophecies

until from the east golden souls came

and fell upon the western world

as bright, white tears amidst ebony rain.

And the earth drank up our souls at last

into its somber, grieving bosom,

then spilled us out of bright fountain heads

so that we might bound naked

and laughing down to the foam of the sea

to murmur there awhile around barnacles and fish

--until, simmered in the sun,

we arose together naturally, laughing our prayers

all over the skies.

*

Ah, my love-drunk bride, wasn't it wondrous beyond words

when our free souls first circulated

in the sweet solvent of Earth’s Spirit

until God’s sleeping Soul blushed itself awake.

 

 

 

 

AWAKENING THE WILD CHILD

 

Leap a little, do a bit of an Irish jig,

perhaps every day,

perhaps while standing in line at the Post Office.

No, because you read it from my mind,

do something different, something fresh

on your own:

like singing opera at the gym

during a "serious work out",

or walking down the isles at the supermarket

playing a harmonica, smiling at everyone.

If you are a woman, do something wild

and Lilly-like every day:

like giving a purple or golden scarf

to an old woman in a nursing home

and fashioning flowers into her hair...

or, out-crazying the children,

riding their makeshift pulley out to the stars.

If you are a man, do a prophetical act everyday:

like running out of the office

and digging your hands into the earth,

rubbing it into your face.

Then wash the dirt into the bathroom sink

as you hum sea chanteys

and spit into the waste basket,

rubbing your cheek where a beard should be,

and speaking like a pirate into the mirror,

telling all God's invisible warriors

that you would pour your blood out upon a stone

for one whiff of the fragrance

of a wild woman's spirit,

and that you would just as well grasp wind or fire

as that lady's freedom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

KISS AN IGNORANT STONE

 

Kiss an ignorant stone until God's kiss

comes through your lips.

Perhaps the Stone shall burst into flame

and shine with blinding radiance.

Pour out your white seed into deep, still pools.

Watch the water-lizards creep forth to eat it.

See, the lizards shine like jewels!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TRANQUILIZING GOD

 

When did we tranquilize God,

and lock that wild one up in religious museums

—caging him in quilted zoos?

 

 

 

 

 

 

WHERE IS THE HIGH LORD?

 

Where is the High Lord?

Perhaps out in the wilderness

with the wild deer and birds.

Perhaps standing in a rain storm

with wolves and elk.

 

 

 

 

 

WHAT IS POETRY?

 

What is Poetry?

Creative Communion with Essences

and Substance.

 

 

 

 

 

OPEN THE DOOR TO THE SPONTANIOUS CHILD

 

"Open the door to the spontaneous child,"

cried a bird passing over head.

The scholarly man gazed into the white sky

and saw nothing.

"Open the door to the wild child!"

the bird cried out again.

Startled, the man spoke back,

"And where shall I find this child?”

"Beneath the waters that run

through every seasons of the year,

and down amidst the ashes, underneath the stones,"

came the answer.

"And where are these waters to be found,

and what the ashes, and where the stones?"

shouted the man, lifting his hands to the sky.

The air stung him with its silence...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

IT WILL BE AN ENCHANTMENT SO GREAT

 

When the Lord comes

it will be an enchantment so great

as to break all lesser spells.

Mystery and beauty will make all things

in creation radiate

with a wild, white light!

Seraphim shall sing in unknown languages.

Everyone shall recognize their own song

which shall sound like a mother's lullaby

sung by a warrior's tongue!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TAKE TIME TO DREAM GOD'S DREAM

 

Take time to dream God's dream.

It is not enough to study it,

nor to memorize it.

Take time to see it in your mind's eye.

Dream it a little while.

Lay back your head into the clouds of it.

Can you see all the Earth at rest and singing?

Can you see glory and beauty everywhere—

every soul wise and radiant with love?

Can you see the lame leaping, the blind seeing?

Can you see a world without sickness or tragedy?

Imagine all animals loving each other

and wild beasts playing with children.

Imagine the elderly dying at 200 years old

with their minds clear and their eyes bright.

Can you see the skies opening with angels singing

divine essences in wild song?

Can you see love’s Light shining out of every tree,

every wall, every tool, home, face, stone?

 *

Take time. Shuh... Dream it a little while.

Listen for the music you can see...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE GOLDEN NAME OF A GOLDEN DREAM

(Comments on how we must grow)

 

There is one who has an unknowable name.

It is written upon him by God's finger.

It is inscribed in his soul.

It is a golden name; part of a golden dream.

It is written with mysterious letters on a crown

which is hidden in an old wooden chest in a dark closet.

God has a dream.

You are part of his dream.

God has an unknown name.

You are part of His unknown name.

But God has a name, you say,

and you understand it well,

and, you have a name 

and know who you are...

Remember that old closet door

you haven't opened since childhood?

Wasn't it down in your basement?

Yes, that's the one:

the closet that is filled with black widow spiders.

Open that closet, shine away spiders,

open it child, peer into the chest.

Now then, who are you?

 

 

 

 

 

 

FROM ISAIAH 61:8

 

Let us not rob God in the burnt offering.

There is a holy passion that must be lit

in the human heart.

There is a fire that burns

in a deathless land,

burning upon an altar which spans

a beautiful pool.

Seek the still pool of God.

See, it is luminous!

You may wash in it

and weep there if you like

because the beauty is so great!

Only naked children may lie down

upon this altar of God.

Only awakened ones.

There the One flame burns for One Essence

and the Soul makes love to God.

                           *

Let us not rob God in the burnt offering!

 

 

 

 

 

TRUE BAPTISM

 

May we wash in the luminous pool

of God's dream.

May we be immersed not into a religion

but into a holy dream

and fall back naked

into the dreamer.

 

 

 

 

UPON ISAIAH 61:3

 

Let us dig in the ash pit,

and find gardenias

which we can string together

into a garland of great beauty.

To the one who reverently puts this garland

over their head

golden songs leap down out of the night

into their minds.

 

 

 

 

 

FROM ISAIAH 62:5

 

When we cease grieving the clean,

free spirit of God

and breathe Her in,

and breathe Him out:

God will burst forth and dance

with the fierce exaltation of a bridegroom

over the bridal us,

around the bridal us,

under the bridal us,

through the bridal us...

And our words shall gleam with pearl light

and heal,

glimmering upon the

treasures of the soul.

 

 

 

 

 

THE FATHOMLESS DEPTHS

 

Oh, the fathomless depths

of the fathomless sea

aren't half as fathomless

as fathomless me.

 

Do you think it's presumption?

Do you think it untrue?

Than fathom the depths

of the fathomless you!

  

 

 

 

 

 

UPON THE RUDDY ROSE OF LIQUID GLASS

 

God needs our blooming of consciousness

upon the fathomless depths of the unconscious.

It is the ruddy rose of liquid glass

opening in golden light on blue shade.

It is the nameless God welling forth to be named by love.

It is the Creator creating Himself in His creation

through the adoration of His creatures.

It is His Love. Her Love. Their Love.

It is the consummation of the primal rose of holiest love:

the flowing, living-crystal

slowly bubbling up through a stem of light,

driven by divine desiring,

drawn forth by the melting of creatures.

It is the ruddy rose of liquid glass

pouring into clay, brimming out of human eyes,

flowing as bread, crystallizing into wine

through words.

 

 

 

 

 

 

WALKING SERAPHIM

 

There are some women

—rare as blue horses—

who burn with life,

who emit sparks,

whose words ricochet around the room.

You may ask them a simple question

and their spirits quiver, then suddenly expand

far beyond the boundaries of their bodies

like tidal surges,

like thunderous waves of green water and foam,

flushing away all grayness,

washing concrete down drains.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

POST MILLENNIAL MEMORIES

 

Remember my love,

how that when the kingdom first came upon earth

we walked along the lakeshore, speaking beauty,

while angels swung overhead singing.

Remember how we laid down naked in the meadows

to murmur awhile in love's music

while the angels laughed

and swarmed above us like swallows,

doing swift acrobatics in the luminous air.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

WHEN I FORGIVE MYSELF FOR CHRIST'S SAKE I.

 

When I forgive myself for Christ's sake

that I might dwell in the nearness of His near,

a yellow lily sinks in gray waters

and makes the waters clear.

 

 

 

 

 

WHEN I FORGIVE MYSELF FOR CHRIST'S SAKE II.

 

When I forgive myself for Christ's sake

angels swarm like swallows singing,

which sets the lower vales to ringing,

"Alleluia! Let Christ be born of Mary

within her second sanctuary."

 

 

 

 

 

 

CONCERNING, MATERIALISM,

WAR, PERSECUTION AND OTHER CALAMITIES

 

We are something transparent,

that often wears a pale mask of the moon by day,

a burning mask of the sun by night.

 

 

 

 

 

CAN WE THINK MUCH ABOUT LIFE WITHOUT LOVING IT?

 

Have we willed it, birthed it,

created or conceived it?

Have we known, drunk,

bought or burnt with it?

Have we ever desired it

without it first desiring us?

I mean the luminous pool of it.

I mean the quick-silk of the river of it.

I mean the liquid flame of it.

I mean the opening rose of glass.

 

 

 

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