rumours move like wind

swirling dark

as hate at a klan rally

there is poison in the air

while wisdom is not

where it once was

gone is truth from loved one’s lips

only wishes built on

their own failures

and hopes of lives lived

better than crypts underground

we are the vicarious prisoners

of fear-doomed masses

crying –

 

"stay in the shadowy day"

"live cold in the dampened gray"

"no light to shine upon your face"

"so long as dark lives in my place"

 

but I would take my heart and flee

from those who sing with grave-dirt voice

"misery loves company"

bury feeling and take dead choice

 

 

This is the beginning of something. I have no idea how it will end. I know how I would like it to end. I know there is a time before beginning that I am tied to but that is someone else’s story. This is mine – at least the beginning.

My earliest memories are of loved ones. Grandma and Grandpa’s house. I am wearing grandpa’s necktie and it drags on the floors as I walk. There are cookies and milk…Oreos I think. I am happy and it is summer in my mind. There are always people here in their house. We are here often. I have a sister but she is a baby. I do not talk to others big or small…I listen. I observe. I exist in their presence.

Sometime we walk in the big yard among plants and trees but are told – “don’t go over there because there is a sink hole and it could suck you in.” All I want to do now is “go over there” but no matter how hard I try I cannot find the sinkhole.

Sometimes we go out front and look at the synagogue next store. I do not know what a synagogue is yet but it fascinates me. The star. I want to climb the wall and trace the star with my finger but I cannot. This is a place of mystery to me. No one ever goes in. No one ever goes out. I know it is sacred somehow.

There is a plane on a string attached to the ceiling. It flies around and around again and again in circles. I am fascinated and could watch forever. It might be Christmas, it might be my birthday.

I am two, maybe three-years-old. I have old memories. I am happy. For my whole life till this time there is no pain; no sadness; only joy and light; There is mum nearby, always near. Mum who feeds and clothes and cares…mum is always there. No memories of Dad in this time.

I am always happy at grandma and grandpa’s.

 

beneath the frozen surface

under the scar and the scabbed

is the molten center of it all

a tearing shredding heat

pulled apart by the one

who keeps it all together

the empty dead hiding

caustic sulfuric hell within

what moon is this

that keeps coming back for more

 

 

 

NOTE: Io is the fourth largest moon in the solar system and is in orbit around Jupiter. The nature of this relationship between Io and Jupiter causes the moon to maintain a violent molten interior.

 

If you are into podcasts then I say – "Good for you!" If you are not then I say "what are you waiting for?" If you are thinking "Podcast!?!? I don’t need any of that crazy liberal hippy technology in my life…I am a dyed in the wool Conservative Party/Republican Calvinist Christian just like Jesus was"…well…not sure what to say to that. At any rate podcasts are available via iTunes (for purists) and are audio recordings posted to the web at regular intervals. There are many great options in the world for podcasts – you can subscribe to ivy league university courses, listen to your favorite theologian or pastor. I subscribe to pastors Rob Bell and Mark Driscoll (Driscoll is good for when I want to listen to the world’s angriest pastor ranting at everything and everyone).

 

Today I found a new podcast (new to me) called Nomad and I really like the concept behind it. Here is what they write about themselves:

 

 

They have had some pretty cool podcasts with Gregory Boyd, N.T. Wright, Rob Bell, Tony Campolo and others. At any rate I think it is quite the ingenious idea although it will be interesting to see how the Nomad community can apply the content of leaders who exist outside of their own context…still I guess we are all trying to do the same thing in terms of applying the teachings of Jesus, Paul, the prophets etc. to our own context.

 

I would recommend you download iTunes even if you don’t own an iPod and subscribe to some university, seminary and church podcasts if for no other reason then to stay sharp.

 

the surface is cold bleak

rain-streaked stone

this rock

this tombstone

washed clean of every name

scrubbed clear of every date

dead to every eye

sharp in crisp November light

empty testimony

to a life once lived

signpost to one asleep

in the presence of the Lord

 

 

It is one

now

one that has been long

one that has been

as lightning ‘cross

from sky to earth

this one is everything

one love and light

one harvest night

one breath of life

there is only

one

a broken one

made whole by

one

a tortured one

a healed one

an empty one

a filled one

a sinful one

made beautiful

by one forgiveness

by one sacred heart

one

it is one

wondrous one

 

there upon the cottonpatch

small mouse crawls grey

little pupil wanders midst

white eye

looking this way and that

to the sky

to the sky

a lidless homage

star-watchful

empty but for wonder

at small pale world

at endless everything else

 

Lectio

——-

 

there is Word

like flashing diamonds

on the endless sea

hinting at souring sun

fragments of light

for fragmented soul

 

Meditatio

———–

 

there is dark

closed eyes

while breeze drifts through

the empty mind

and i can’t tell

eternal spirit from bound(less) soul

 

Oratio

——–

 

there is voice

confused crying

out and up

a babel of sound

built to heaven’s height

with prayers

that it won’t be torn down

 

Contemplatio

—————-

 

there is quiet

a lying motionless

an object come to rest

while momentum comes

not from within

but from without