Today I feel lost, adrift on an unseen current that flows…
Where?
Not able to see the light that pulses from with your eyes.
I cannot hear the rhythm of your heart as we fold together as One.
Arms; Legs; Hearts…Souls
Truly I wish for that glow that guides without guile
That I may grab the tiller of my heart and
Find You.
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Reach upwards, O my Soul!
Climb to the heavens where the gods dwell!
Breathe deeply of the æther, that luminiferous element through
Which light flows and eddies in the far reaches of the Universe.
Seek the Heart of the Great God from Whom emanates all
Life and Light.
Bask in the radiant glow of God’s visage as it searches;
Hearts to mend; Minds to heal.
Yet, I do not need to search far.
For, who must fly to the High Heavens?
Or, who must descend to the Great Depths?
The æther in which this Deity Dwells ebbs and flows
Within.
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Why is sadness a bad thing?
Should we all always allineate with the herd?
Fish find fluid fine to breathe,
That is their reality; their particular world.
What if sadness is mine?
The air that circulates in my lungs;
The Oxygen coursing through my veins
Bringing life to the cells that structure this frame?
Who are you, Happy Person, to judge my reality?
Yes, tears stand ready to serve me at a drop of the hat.
And, yes, my throat tightens and constricts when I gaze at you.
What makes that any different than the derision that you
Hold for me that erupts in guffaws and laughter?
No!
You don’t get to judge my world.
But, I will hold yours responsible for the
Hurt; the damage and destruction that your
Unreasoning judgment has wrought on me
And those who limp through this existence
Like I do.
My sadness is my crown and You cannot take it from me.
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“Cold hearted orb that rules the night,” proclaimed the Minstrel in Song.
His connection to the River of Creativity that courses through the Universe, wetting our souls with deep insight and wisdom, revealed that to him as “Truth.”
But, is it truly?
No. I think not.
Born in torment, Artemis broke free and roamed the wilds seeking her own under the silver, lunar light that illumines the night; illumines the heart.
“Freedom,” the goddess cried out in the forest she so loved.
Freedom, in the water reflection of her friend and charge as its image rippled on the surface of the water.
“Cold hearted orb?”
No.
Rather, freedom that shines in the silver-lumined teardrop that slips silently down my cheek.
Where do feelings come from?
Are they the result of millions of years of adaptation? A stew-like chemistry experiment that has never ended, that just keeps going and going and going….?
They allow us to fear danger and cleave to love. They are at the same time self-serving and self-giving.
Feelings are a Paradox.
Or, perhaps as some insist, Feelings are God-created and God-given. A gift to the Cosmos to be cherished. And, crushed. Because we can’t have those feelings running rampant in the Universe, now, can we? Besides, they are fleeting and cannot be trusted with things like truth and reality. Only faith in an invisible God can provide those.
If from God, then, does God feel? Does this Supreme Being express Supreme Passion?
Feelings are Good. No, wait! Feelings are Bad! No, wait! Feelings are complicated.
Emotions are elusive; effusive. Wisps of vapor that may cumulate and become cumulonimbus thunderheads filled with pervasive power that pummels our hearts casting a wide swath of destruction.
But, also cleansing the atmosphere of our heart. Refreshing. Reclaiming. Rousing us to reach for the mountaintops, even for the stars of heaven.
Why do we try to suppress feelings? Something so basic, yet absolutely intrinsic to who we are as Humans?
After so many years hiking through the wilderness of this life, I think, maybe, perchance, (I’m really not sure), that I am finally beginning to see and grasp something, some understanding (?), of this indwelling power. For, emotions…Feelings…are as important and necessary for our existence as the air we breathe. When stuffed and hidden, we suffocate, wither, and die. Such has been my experience.
But, maybe, just as the withered plant revives when given the life-giving water that courses through its chlorophyll laden veins, I, too, may revive and find life as I open myself to that emotive well-spring of my heart.
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Who are You?
Whom shall I say sent me?
“I Am That I Am.
You will tell them that I Am has sent you.
I Am the One who exists at this moment.
Absolute. Unchangeable. Ever-living.
I Will Be Whom I Am Becoming.
Ever revealing My redemption.
I Will Be what you look for and need.
I Will Be Whom I Will Be.
Not yet revealed. Not yet known.”
God has been called many names. It seems that people are always looking for ways to describe that which is indescribable. There is one name, however, that was recorded as the self-identifier of God.
The short verse above is a play on that.
The name “I Am that I Am” is the most popular. People use this to make God something that is far beyond our limited ability to understand. God simply ‘IS.’ God exists. God is wholly ‘Other.’
Yet, this God spoke to Moses as one Person to another. Intimate.
Personal.
Others interpret the Name actively. “I Am Becoming,” or, “I Will Be.” This has
the flavor of something that isn’t quite done growing. It’s nature is not
complete. Or, it has not been revealed in its completeness.
This is the God that I give my allegiance to.
This is the Living God who will outgrow any box that we may use to confine the Divine.
This is the God Who may be the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow,
But, it is impossible for me to know what that was, is, or may become.
Because God is always Becoming God.
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Wheel turns inexorably onward.
Where does it lead?
Nowhere.
Turning, it turns within another…larger.
Others attach and spin faster and faster.
Yet, going nowhere.
Only round and round and round she goes!
Where she stops, nobody knows!
Hands on a face.
Covering tears.
Hiding zits.
Put away shame.
Yet, the wheel turns inexorably onward.
Why do they call them hands?
They look more like spears.
Weapons in the hands of the wheels.
But, the wheels have no hands.
Grow; Age; Rot…
What if the turning stopped?
Would that keep the rot away?
Would the rot rot?
Wheels in the sky keep turning.
When to sow; when to reap.
When to fertilize the seed.
The wheel begins another turn.
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They say that the eyes are the window of the Soul.
Not so much that they allow light to enter,
But, they allow the light within to radiate outward.
People may change the color and style of their hair or the shape of their nose.
Grimace and pout; Giggle and laugh.
Fold arms and raise angry fists.
Dance a jig or march a dirge.
The eyes, though, are truthful.
Nothing is hid from one who knows how to see.
Open your eyes! And, I will see your soul’s light reflected in my heart!
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Blazing Bubble Bursts!
White hot atoms form!
Escape!
Where shall we build it?
Everywhere! Anywhere! Go!
Now!
And, so it was formed.
Every color and form.
Look!
Singularity.
All has arisen!
Behold!
And, it was all Good!
It was Very Good!
As I’ve struggled with trying to discover an answer to my question, “Who Are You God…Really?” I was drawn to the initial spark that became the Cosmos. Who is God in relation to all that we see, hear, smell, taste, and touch? And, what does that have to do with me getting up every day and driving into the city to work? Or, returning home to family and responsibilities and, well, just “Life” stuff.
The short verse I wrote is built with 2 lines of 5 syllables followed by an exclamation.
Except for the end where the last 2 lines leave off into space where all sorts of possibilities live.
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YOU LEFT ME!
How Dare You Do That To Me!
You didn’t say ‘Goodbye’!
You didn’t even leave a note on the bedside table!
Don’t all of the years we spent together mean anything to you?!?
We laughed and we loved.
We travelled together. We slept together.
I thought that we would be together ALWAYS!!!
You Promised That You Would Never Leave Me!
And Now!
Now, You just died and left me alone!
I wrote this as I was thinking about a friend of mine who lost a loved one. Could part of our mourning process involve resolving anger that we may have toward that person? They did, after all, leave us alone without warning.
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