the mourning is in the small connections to ordinary things

adult affection baby casual

Photo by Pixabay

The mourning is in the small connections to ordinary things. The smell of her hand cream and her talcum powder…

The crinkle of his skin in the corner of his gray-blue eyes when he smiles. The silly songs he  sang to wake me up each morning and the silly nicknames he called us to show His love…

The struggle, the grief, the mourning  is not between ourselves and others. It is within ourselves and lay between the longing in our souls and that which is ordained by God himself…

Between the body and its desire and between the mind and its necessary vital need of renewal…

These connections are learned at a very young age, as a babe already knows the scent of his mother and the lower tones in  her father’s  voice …So it is that these ordinary simple connections… are in reality the sound of Joy’s voice  like a warm spring rain…

These are the gentle paths of mourning that ease us into grief. There is no fear in mourning for it is a connection to our Maker…there is no fear or reason to “get rid” of grief.  For without the mourning there is no comfort. Without the sorrow there is no relationship and without grief there is no Joy.

 

 

 

The Lover of My Soul…a tribute to my sweet Mother who has gone to be with the Lord…this is what she taught me all of my life…I love you Mom and will see you again in God’s perfect timing…

 

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Photo by Pixabay

I lift my eyes
from all that is broken
from the ashes of idols
from lies that are spoken

I lift my eyes 
from this earthen vessel
from unanswered questions
from the unfulfilling morsels

I lift my eyes
the window of my soul
to the heaven’s Creator
to The One who has control

I lift my eyes
where my Faith will be made sight
at His appearing I will see
The Defender and Lover of my soul
has His eyes on me

“I got my meanness from the gutter and my kindness from God…

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He said, “I get my meanness from the gutter and I get my kindness from God.” I sat down under the bridge with him and I said, “I think I could say the same.” He looked at me square in the eyes and I could see he was surprised by my response. He said, “You don’t look like you know much about the gutter.”

I smiled and said “looks can be deceiving don’t ya know?” Then he laughed. The sound of his laughter was one that made me smile. His laughter was like a nine month old baby’s belly laugh. The kind of laughter where nothing is held back and a sweetness of joy rings from it. I told him I had not laughed like that in ages and he said, “Oh you can only laugh like that when Fury and Thunder have cracked your soul and all the dark places have been opened up and cleaned out and all the pieces are strewn about and you cannot put them back together by yourself. I call it reconcilable purity. This laughter only occurs when you have lost your life to save it and when you were first but now you are last…”

I sat there in sober silence but something inside of me begin to tremble. “Who are you?” I whispered. He said, “I am just an old man who has been given a new heart and all day long I just like to go around and give my heart and life away to whoever might need it for a minute or two so that they can go about their day with some pure laughter…” The gorged veined, brown spotted hands palmed my face and the old man looked me in the eye and he said, “Go and be, not do. Go laugh and cry. Go and give your life away for someone else and you will see. You will laugh the laugh of “reconcilable purity.”

Beginning of Wisdom

gray concrete post tunnel

Photo by James Wheeler

I am a ruin, only pieces of me stand.

I was a fool and knew only nonsense

yet he levels the mountains before me

and cuts through my chains.

 

He make fools of false teachers

and keeps His promises.

His foundation is laid, it is His Son.

 

In my secret place He stores his riches

and gives me a name of honor.

Rejoice in the ruin that stand restored.

 

Inspired by the prophet Isaiah

I dance on the ledge that is way too high…

woman standing by one foot and holding flare stick near trees

Photo by Wellington Cunhao

When I wanted to dance on that ledge that was way to high

when I was a foolish naive woman child

You did not judge me rather you told me to try

when the summer storm cleared the sky I cried

 

I cried because I made mistakes and had deep wounds to show

I cried because I grieved the things that had ravaged my soul

I cried because I am grateful that you never let me go

You said whenever you are ready I will take you home…

and never more will you cry…

 

I still dance on high ledges because life is a thrill

I cherish my wisdom and my fine woman skills

I gladly now bow to you my Lord and King

So whenever you are ready my heart will take wing…

and I will be home with you…

 

The Lillies of the field sing for me

The waves of the sea are my dance

The stars in the heavens are my guiding light

As I dance on the ledge that is way too high!

 

 

 

No Shadows can fall where there is only light

silhouette of person in green grass under the sun during daytime

Photo by Pixabay

 

Standing here under the brightest moon

I sense your presence like a cozy room

I feel your holy antiquity yet you make all things new

and now traveling North is true

 

 

I look over my shoulder at the past

and it is vanquished forever into long lost night

It never was what mattered to you at last

and no shadows can fall where there is only light

 

The Key Hole

antique close up door iron

Photo by Lukasz Dziegel

Peeping through the key hole in someone else’s dream

I thought I saw the answers to the meaning of deep things

There was no life-size rabbit or a balded man named Oz

There was simply Light blazing brighter than the sun

The Son, He is the King with lovers all around him

He cried, “everyone is welcome” but some people would not have him

Then once the door was open the King said, “Please come in”

His loving arms enveloped me can I sing that song again?

 

On either side of Him stood two beings…

silhouette of person s hand touching water during sunset

Photo by Emre Kuzu

His face sparkled like a multi-faceted diamond. A face that blazed like the sun yet different. A pure white light with flashes of blue, silver, and gold. It hurt my eyes so badly to look at Him but I could not, would not turn my face away. I did not care if I went blind. This face is the One I’d been waiting to see all of my life. His face was all I could look at as if in a trance; like when starting a fire in the Old World. Mesmerizing doesn’t begin to describe it. The blaze was so bright that I could not see anything of His other features at all.

On either side of Him stood two beings, they were a coll alabaster white, not bright white, not shining in any way but pure and cool looking. They each stood facing Him never moving their face from His. They did not speak. They were powerful creatures, I could tell, they were strong and sure of their purpose. They were creatures with a human face that I could recognize and at least seven feet tall and had wings that were about six feet tall and four feet in width. Each feather gently folded into the next. Once for just a second I saw their feathers slightly ruffle from top to bottom and could see these were strong wings. Wings that never faltered  when they flew or fought in a battle or stood at attention. I was afraid.

I was so afraid that my legs could no longer hold me. I was eager to kneel down. It felt good to kneel before Him because in the Old World with decaying knee joints I could no longer kneel in His presence. All the while my eyes were burning severely from His brightness. I felt strong in the kneeling as if I, like the two creatures, am created for this very thing.

Then the most incredible thing happened…He knelt down on His knees too and when He did it was the face I knew it would be. His face. The face of softness and kindness. The face of antiquity yet new and fresh. His eyes were not like our eyes. His eyes were not blue, brown, green, or hazel or gray or any of those colors…they were simply Light.

He took his hand and palmed my cheek and spoke to me. The words he spoke I will not share with anyone ever. They were words just between us. Words I had thirsted for since I was formed in my Mother’s womb by my Father’s sinful Adam’s seed. They were words beyond redeeming love, words of My Story with Him, of understanding with healing and further instruction of what is to come. They were words I had never heard spoken before, another language if you will. They were Peace and oh what joy did flood my soul.

At that moment the same blazing light that came from Him entered into me and my eyes no longer burned at all. My sight was inconceivably and brilliantly clear. I belonged there with Him…every “longing” I had ever known in my Eternal Life and even before in the Dead Life stood right there in front of me. Each one of them actually existed before my eyes and each one was finally satiated beyond measure. He smiled at me and pulled me up from my knees and that is when I felt the scars in His hands. Those beautiful wounded hands took mine and we walked among my life, my dreams. As He held my hand in His I knew I would never have to be separated from Him again.

He said, “let’s walk along the place you loved the most in the Old World.”

Gently without fanfare or fear I heard that beautiful love song of waves washing upon the shore. The smell of salt water and life teemed all around me. There was no stench of dead sea life or decay of any kind just the scent of cleanness. The colors of the water was too wonderful for words. Again, I want to keep this precious moment private…this was our beach, just His and mine. We stayed there and looked for shell and other jewels that were of a beauty and colors I have never seen. We waded into the water and even though it was Ocean water we could drink it and it tasted sweet beyond honey. We picked some living anemone flowers and held them and then put them back unscathed into the water. They swam around His feet as if to love on Him. Oh it is a glorious place We sat down in the sand as white and soft as a cloud and we held hands and rested…

 

 

New Agony

brown wooden armchair on brown wooden floor

Photo by Marcelo Jaboo

I thought I had known agony

least ways had tasted its edges

but now tasting it fully

it uproots my  heart as it dredges

 

This is a new agony

one more step off the cliff

Did I think Death not an enemy

how mortal is my wish?

 

There are events we must do alone

this loss cannot be shared

Yet in the middle of the night I wept

when I felt your Presence there

Catching Sparks

abstract art blaze bonfire

Photo by Pixabay

I put my mind on pause till midnight moon rise

I get hysterically reverent when the church bells chime

 

Painted soft flames of love lick around my  heart

The shadow of a poet’s she’s only catching sparks

 

I want to sleep deeply in a minor key

Need the old emerald sea washing over me

 

Sprinkles of  “should haves” drop into the sand

A seeker, a woman just had to love that man

 

Catching sparks, clear as star fire

Catching sparks of loving kindness

Catching sparks like glowing fireflies

Catching sparks till I close my eyes