Tag Archives: spirituality

Dwelling

"A Cocoon", 2004, Painting, oil on panel. Nikolay Sazhin.

How quickly the empty house began to decay
Without a soul to breathe within

Standing water around its foundation revealed
Decades of lonely tears

Crippled walls crash in and that timeworn
Way groans out in agony

The burrow vanquished, in its place
Will rise a new home

Oh, but the razing is neither death nor destruction
To a hollow, broken facade

The suffering is metamorphosis, beloved
You are being reborn

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Lenten Pilgrim

Lenten pilgrim
Come inside, out of the cold and throw off the heavy layers
one by one. Shake away the damp. The drops of rain, snow, ice
that creep down the back of your neck and remind you of the inevitability of pain.
Come inside. When you are down to your barest layer…
Nearly your true self, come sit by the fire.
You seem tired, friend.
Here’s a drink. Relax. Be still.
Listen and watch how the flame lives and breathes.
Soak in the warmth of the message you hear, weary traveller.
You are at the feet of the fire. To be renewed from the cold.

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Ancient Ash, Old Dust

The ancient ash marks a weary brow.
This is not shame but blessing.
Line on line a simple cross;
Marked as one of God’s own.
Return to Me.
This is a gift.
Observe and consider,
you are not more or less than you are.
Named BELOVED
Soak away the smudge.
Chip away the barnacles that obscure
your adopted name.
Throw off the coverings.
They weigh you down.
Dust swirls in the light.
To dust, to dust, to dust…
you shall return.
We buckle under the weight,
and forget the blessing;
The miracle of what God can do
with the old dust.
Where the cosmos was gathered.
God-breathed, man-born.
We feel it in our dry bones,
and it rattles us.
He is not afraid of dust and ash
within you.
The Most High whispers,
Return to Me.

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Kid on a Bike (an observation)

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Spokes turn.
In the beginning…
Whirling, exposed
ribs.
Kicking at them is something
violent.
Foot missing the
kickstand.
It won’t stay
up.
Unruly stand, gets in the way
of movement.
An angry shout.
The wheels still spin.
distraction or defiance
and
a bike begins the descent.
The fall.
Here it comes.
Pavement is the consequence.
Bloodied knees
scraped hands
and dirty tears
run home to find salvation.
And a mercy kiss.