Quiet

For those of us who crave Quiet,

who suckle on silence as if it were Mother’s milk,

in every moment,

a trade must be made,

a resultant price paid:

do we the “self” isolate

or do we “other” engage?

The latter can feel like flagellation

when the Quiet Soul

has reached

its social limitation –

that tipping point,

the point of no and diminishing return,

where absolute quiet

is all one yearns-

gasping for it as if a fish out of water,

the mind in an uproar –

all chaos and disorder.

But then…

the consequence

of a life lived largely withdrawn,

where solitude is the norm:

a nagging,

disconcerting

loneliness settles down,

deep into them dry bones-

a thick film

centuries old,

sending gentle warnings to the Quiet Soul

that this human form

was crafted

to be ever

connected.

Yield Your Fruit

Yield

your

Fruit,

just give it all away-

that which you came

here

to do,

to say.

Don that suit

with only your name on it.

Bring that song

you were crafted to sing.

Return to the dust

from whence you came

emptied

-with absolutely

no thing

left within.

Go home utterly spent-

’tis the only way

to live a life content.

LIFE (scene One)

Live

Life

Full.

Be

Here

Now.

For, one never knows

when,

how

The Plug

will be pulled.

Tomorrow,

the next breath,

never guaranteed-

from that illusion,

we must all

be freed.

Life is

precious,

precarious.

The human body,

fragile

as it is

miraculous.

Take

no thing,

no one

for granted.

Live

Life

Soft

surrendered,

empathetic.

The Bulge

there It is:

The Bulge.

on full display;

i cannot seem to

look away,

to focus on the richness

of what he had come

to say.

on The Bulge,

my eyes linger

as my mind wanders:

what does it

look like,

feel like

when released

and fully unleashed?

how tall does it stand?

i imagine its feel

in my hands,

its taste in my mouth

when I’ve made my way down, South.

No!

Will not go nowhere

by going there.

I force my gaze,

my thoughts

way up, North.

we lock eyes-

yikes, I’ve been caught!

eyes, now shut,

i blush.

the heat,

the guilt,

the stench

of shame

rises,

takes a seat,

whispers

familiar recriminations

in my ears.

I just want to disappear!

The Bulge

brought

desperation,

longing,

latent sexuality

to the uncomfortable fore,

much too near…

here come the tears…

shedding-as always-

internally.

The End

The End is the Beginning.

The beginning of another chapter,

a different reality, new memories;

a location change, a strange cast of characters

with names and behaviors to learn.

Outside of the comfort zone once again,

the choice to be made to not pretend.

Integrity does not allow one

to play small for very long.

Eventually, one gets woke-

the inside, who you really are

must be expressed,

and unto the world, spoke.

The time does come

when familiarity must succumb.

The price becomes much too high-

either begin anew or slowly die.

The new girl placed on an old block,

what will this journey unlock?

What new skin will it bring?

What songs will it allow

this Soul

to finally sing?

The End is just the Beginning.

 

Cup Runneth Over

Drenched in gratitude,

humbled by immense Grace,

overwhelmed with benevolence,

truly I tell you:

my cup runneth over!

This softened heart

is about to burst

at the Love demonstrated

by this magnificent Universe!

It just keeps coming-

these perceived blessings-

a torrential downpour.

How much more

can a Soul possibly endure?

I cannot seem to give

as much

at the pace

in which I receive!

Bon Dieu, a moment to breath,

to take it all in please,

to be still and know,

and from there

to make the noise

of unadulterated joy!

My cup runneth over,

vision shifts:

there is no mere

coincidence.

No accident

is this largesse.

To whom much is given,

where Life has been very kind

even more is arisen

within that human mind:

how best to demonstrate gratitude?

how to cultivate the fortitude

to sustain faith

when the same cup

is filled only

with empty space?

 

Fated

it comes relatively easily,

that which is fated.

the steps run smoothly

as if actions in an incredulous movie!

one feels as if riding a powerful wave

toward that thing God long ago named;

this place He slated

for you alone,

to grow, to blossom, to come into your own.

“this is your path, walk in it,” He declares.

“trust me. do not let your heart be troubled nor scared.”

not all in this life need be a struggle,

an interminable inner fight

to discern where one belongs,

which way is right.

indeed, sometimes a boulder is thrown –

the Universe knowing better

than to reach you with a mere quiet stone.

Urgent, desperate prayers come up constantly to the sky:

“help me!” they all cry.

God cannot do for us

what He cannot do through us.

that we are each other’s keeper –

a remembrance that is sacred, an absolute must.

The call for help

is responded to

by an ever-evolving self

that consciously

with a sense of deep conviction

and moral responsibility

relays relentlessly:

“here I am, Lord, please use me.”

This surrender,

ego placed out of the way,

then renders

the necessary space

for one’s fate

to perfectly navigate.

 

 

 

 

What will my role be in The Revolution?

What role will I play in The Revolution?

What will my Lord require of me to help bend that long arc of the moral Universe always toward justice?

How will I be asked to repay the debts to those who came before, who took the hits and falls so that I might on their broad, brave shoulders stand – in the moment – free and tall?

To whom much is given, much is required. A government truly for the good of all the people and run by all the people comes at a high cost – the cost of caring, of voting, of marching – of being ever diligent and vigilant, opposing with steadfast love the misguided forces that would hate from the place of fear and darkness cutting through all our human hearts.

What role will we the people play in The Revolution now that the pendulum has swung back, seemingly all the way to the other side and another time – the response to the call for higher love and broader inclusion; the response to the call for pluralism and government visually reflective of its many peoples?

When did we forget our basic tenet that we the people are One – E pluribus Unum? Either we stand together – united, or become completely undone – indeed, extinct – by the misperception that we are not one and must only lookout for number one.

There is no middle moral ground; we can no longer simply stand around, desperately seeking a savior to come down and bear the heat for our collective neglect and defeats.

No, the answers are not out there – never were. The heroes lie on the inside and have thousands of faces. Be still and know that we each have a specific role to play, some piece of the work to claim, an assignment bearing only our name.

May we the people with courage and deep conviction, accept our respective tasks to ensure our beautiful American Experiment lasts, and the freedom for which it always strives remains vibrant and forever alive.

 

 

Extraction

This year begins with an extraction

of more than just a tooth;

feels so much deeper…like a tone being set…

as if The Extraction

of lies disguised as truth;

a purification, of sorts,

an intense burning

of malignant thoughts;

the elimination of scripts so long-held

that with the body

they’ve seemed to meld;

the expulsion of perspectives in mind

that no longer serve,

behind which I cannot continue

to hide.

The Extraction

has exposed

a painful nerve,

left me

vulnerable,

shook up,

a tad perturbed-

in a most humble space,

the better to receive.

With new eyes, I can now see,

and proclaim

gently

with no shame:

Enough! No more!

Ego, please take your shit to the door!

A revised reality,

a different, lighter story-

one steeped in radical Trust,

of complete surrender

to a benevolent Universe

of stunning abundance

and wondrous intelligence.

“This is your way,”

It whispers

softly

persistently

deep

inside

me.

The Way

may not be

what is preferred,

but the Universe

never errs.

One is being called-

always-

to a Faith surpassing human understanding;

to re-member what One really is:

eternal Spirit in ephemeral flesh,

on this journey, only to connect.

 

“…the Lord gives you the Bread of adversity and the Water of affliction…” Isaiah 30:20

 

 

Sacred

In every moment,

something sacred

is at stake.”

There is a choice to be made;

a perspective to be chosen;

words and emotions, spoken;

a road taken.

A path then set,

fate waits to be met.

A price to pay-

maybe tomorrow, maybe today-

for the hand played.

One reaps what one sows,

as everyone knows.

Cause and effect,

a sacred law,

much too often ignored.

All thought in mind

creates form in kind.

The Universe

sees all,

bears all,

reflects all-

no matter how small.

In the space between

action and reaction

lies one’s rise or great fall.

Either one’s asleep

or awake.

Regardless,

“in every moment,

something sacred

is at stake.”

 

Quote: Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel