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,
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.
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.
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 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.
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
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.
…a small still voice
inside
whispers
delicately and definitively
stand up,
Rise.
The worst is over.
Like the Phoenix
from the smoldering ashes
you are meant
to again
spread your wings,
Fly.
For unto the world,
your gifts to bring;
God’s Light to shine;
and of only One Love
to all
re-mind.
how does one adequately define and contain this thing known as Grace?
the word in speech calms and soothes; it brings with it hope and the promise of salvation.
we know Grace when we see it, feel it, but what exactly is it?
Grace is unearned we learn, given freely to those most undeserving.
“ask and you shall receive,” scripture teaches. “knock and the door shall open.”
so, is Grace answered prayer, outcomes relentlessly hoped and prayed for?
what of the unanswered prayers and doors never opened?
“there but for the Grace of God,” we utter somewhat sheepishly when the fickle, unpredictable hands of perceived misfortune pass us by.
what then when we are brought to our knees, when life unexpectedly and fiercely pivots into the unknown, the unwelcomed and unwanted new normal?
is there Grace in the darkness, the mess, the despair?
or does Grace only reside in the light, the clarity, the joy?
does Grace come solely from above, from our God?
or can we, spiritual beings in human flesh, also be Grace-ious, bestowing Grace upon each other?
is God’s will the opposite or is it synonymous to His Grace?
how does one define Grace, this small big word that is so often referenced and yet so rarely fully grasped?
perhaps, like beauty and God (and other such big small concepts), Grace is defined by its beholder and is also beyond definition.
burgeoninc 