At the root of the word Courage is Coeur – heart in French. Apropos, I think, as courage stems from the Heart. It is not an endeavor of the head, of logic. The head would have us run, flee as fast we can, as far as we are able, from fear – our edge, that which is uncomfortable and elicits angst so powerful we become physically ill. It is the Heart, like a loving, nurturing parent, that gently encourages us to stand our ground, to face what is terrifying, to look over the perceived edge. Is it any wonder then that the Heart beats so seemingly violently – almost impatiently – as we commit to pushing ahead, pushing past our fear and self-imposed limitations. It is speaking to us loudly, boldly, forcefully. Lup Dup. “Yes, you can!” Lup Dub. “I got ya!” Lup Dup. “Jump. Fly. Let your Light shine.” Lup Dup. “Be the Change. Set an example. Be the exception.” Lup Dup. Lup Dup.
courage
The Beat of One’s Own Drums
to march to the beat of
One’s Own Drums,
to imitate no one,
to innovate
from a place of deep faith
and confidence-
such a mandate
is not for
the faint
in Heart.
it takes courage
to be free,
to be the You
that often only You can see,
to be unique, a bit of a mystique
in a world of followers and shamers.
we were made in God’s image,
reflections of The Divine, The Most High
one and onlys are we –
wonderfully crafted
for a specific purpose and time.
the sake of humanity pleads:
spread your considerable wings!
march to the beat of your very own drums!
no need to compete,
there is more than enough room
for everyone.
Artwork: Walking the Line, Edwin Lester @artistedlester
An Untold Story
buried deep
inside,
a part of self
wishing only
to hide,
preferring to
“live”
a lie.
how to see
it
let alone speak
it–
that,
which altered
a Life.
innocence
forever lost,
a new trajectory
is now forced.
but not
without
a heavy cost.
one can only run
from The Truth
but so far
before it
festers and scars.
An untold story
will travel from life to life,
causing all matters
of angst and strife
until it is
revealed,
brought
finally
to the Light.
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.
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.
Joy in Repetition
There is indeed
Joy in Repetition,
in doing it
again and again,
learning to see it
outside and in,
the nuances,
the subtleties-
variations on the
exact
same
theme.
What a pleasure
to be delivered
repeated opportunity
for vision,
to better see
what is true-
what is reality.
Day in,
day out;
year after year,
the same issues
reappear.
They come
looking for resolution,
for final absolution.
There is indeed
Joy in Repetition,
in the single-minded commitment
to always come back home
to Self
so as to be
of greater service
to everyone else.
Each Other’s Keepers,
we truly are.
All of us,
big, bright Shining Stars.
Alas, we often forget
from whence we came.
As such,
we are wont
to play
dangerous, destructive
games-
veering off our path,
so far, one can only laugh.
But sins are forgiven;
therein we’re saved!
The Joy in Repetition,
a clean slate,
yet another chance
to pivot,
to reevaluate,
to atone,
to return Soul to its Home,
to not stray
and become lost in the daily fray.
The Joy in Repetition,
returning to love
repeatedly
and
consciously;
relentlessly changing
the subliminal scripts,
adjusting to one
that is truth,
the more accurate,
gentler
fit.
Great Joy in Repetition,
a lifetime
of exploration-
digging deeper,
going farther,
climbing ever higher.
Over and over
and over
again-
when does it end?
Perhaps,
only
in Heaven.
Friday
Whoa!
Another week
has passed
so quick,
so fast
at a pace,
I can’t seem to grasp!
One minute, it is Monday-
the thought: how will I last?
The next minute, Friday,
relief, some time to relax!
Bittersweet is
the end of the week.
Some joy,
some pain.
Many questions
remain:
Did I get
what I was to learn?
Did I summon
enough nerve
to truly serve?
Where did I grow?
Where was maturation slowed?
What parts of me
do I transform and release?
Next breath never guaranteed,
nor is any day of next week.
It’s Friday,
the day to savor
the short respite,
to pivot
and change perspective.
Go in,
give in,
make way and waves;
like a voodoo chile
filled with Light and smiles
play and create-
these are the mandates
of
Fridays.
Memories of the Child
Memories of Me as Child
very rarely
feature
prominently
in my mind.
Sometimes,
a memory
will come
spurred by that
of another One.
Such was the case
recently
when the memory of
a beating came to me.
Perhaps, the worst ever
by my parents
wrought,
the result of me following
my child heart.
An adventuress,
I have always been
from deep within,
yearning to explore my world,
for real life to unfurl.
Such was the case when
at ten years old,
I did something very bold,
against which I’d been sternly told.
I visited the home of a classmate,
Molly was her name.
She had dark hair,
freckles and such seductive flare!
Molly lived in the biggest house I’d ever seen,
just down the road from my apartment building.
Four stories, it stood,
dignified and handsome –
in sharp contrast to the rest of the ‘hood.
Intrigued, curious, in love, I was.
Hence, how could I have declined
Molly’s invitation to come inside?!
Adventure called,
I could not it stall!
A blissful afternoon I spent
while my parents wondered
where their child went.
Alas, all good things must come to an end;
my parents found me at my friend’s.
That evening, I learned
there is a price for authenticity,
that its sweet pleasure is earned.
Fear and anger were unleashed
with every swish
my father’s belt
on my young skin
released.
Though, the physical wounds have since healed,
the memory is sealed,
seared forever into my Soul.
There to one day be told.
Not a story of pity, no!
Rather one of victory
and great resiliency.
For you see,
I am still me
filled with the same boundless curiosity,
in love with Life immensely.
Always will I be,
no matter the external story.
Sculpture: First Portrait of Roma of Barbados, 1932, Jacob Epstein
A Light in The World
What does it take
to be A Light in the World,
to accept the sacred invitation
to truly make flesh The Word?
A sprawling, often lonely,
task
that will inevitably
ask
the removal of all human
masks.
There’s no hiding,
only faithfully abiding;
Seeing the world
differently;
expanding consciousness to foreign
possibilities,
such as loving all brothers
unconditionally.
One will need to forgive,
to always relieve grievances.
No space for judgment and blame,
for pettiness and thoughts criminally insane.
Only the remembrance that we are all
fundamentally
the same.
A formidable call
to be A Light in The World,
to sow seeds of peace
in the Minds of the All.
Not for the faint-hearted, this role.
Indeed, many flounder and fall,
the ones who think themselves insignificant
and very small,
who know not how
to stand erect and tall.
Much is given to A Light in the World.
This path, once chosen,
one does not walk alone.
Vision, wisdom and extraordinary might,
all bequeathed to A Light,
all needed to keep up the human fight
that rages
within and without
day and night.
A Light
ultimately
returns home, to Love
remembers its function
is guided
only
by things holy and Above.
Dear She,
start
right
now!
just do it!
commence
exactly
where you are!
step by step
is how
one goes far.
do not allow
fear and doubt
keep you from
your destined route.
believe in you
this, you must do
to live a life
big
juicy
and true!
can’t allow ego
to de-construct
and run amuck
spreading rumors,
like a malignant tumor.
you’ve played small
for far too long,
drinking in
the lies,
the poison,
others hold.
beloved, these,
not for your Soul.
no!
take a stand
for you,
for all,
for together,
we rise
and fall.
even as you stumble
and tremble,
know you are
more than able.
it’s all in you,
the things
you need
to spread
your considerable
wings!
be always
inspired.
please
don’t
against self
conspire,
perceiving another
much higher.
To each,
her own path,
her unique road,
long ago cast.
so, no compare,
only road from there
is utter despair.
instead,
see the common humanity
and fragilities
in all human stories.
bask in the ordinary
of your hero,
that which births
the extraordinary.
when One-
like you-
breaks through,
reclaims her Essential Truth,
remembers her Light,
we all shine bright,
we all take flight!
burgeoninc 