doubt
moves in like a cloud
obscuring the sun.
it does not make the sun wrong
or mean it’s not there.
for clouds come and go
but the sun is yours
your whole life long.
Tag: poem
what waits within
where is the grief
inside you living?
what waits within
like song inside a bird
what seizes your heart
in spasms of fear and glory
waiting, waiting
to be heard?
tell me, tell anyone, tell someone
even if only
in the faintest of whispers
until you touch the place inside
where grief melts into music.
to the artist of spirit
your art is the roots.
let it lie dark
and rich like the mud.
your breath
is your navigator.
show others the way through their breath
their limbs
their movements
make them like trees
make them bright as stars.
let go of “purpose.”
do it because it moves you.
someday is not your concern
for your time is now.
in time
your shallows shall swell
with the tide.
what you have so heavily resisted
shall become your bread and butter
and the heaviest burdens upon your back
shall become your ballasts.
go.
move.
it is the only way
if you are to light the way forward.
rooting
child
no matter how deeply
you have been wounded
remember:
one day a seed
will come along
take root exactly
where it hurts the most
slumber
in darkness until
you open up
and allow enough light
to reach it;
once you do that
nothing will stop
its furious
motion
its transformation
of dark matter
into something altogether
unexpected.
it is what it is.
Because it is.
That’s why.
This is the life you were given.
It has meaning simply because it exists.
Don’t run from it.
Face it.
Face the ugly parts,
the beautiful parts,
and especially the parts
that are beautiful and ugly at the same time.
Don’t try to reason with it.
Life does what it wants.
It won’t ask for your opinion,
and worrying won’t alter its course.
Life chooses us.
Our own choice lies in response, not in circumstance.
There is comfort in realizing you don’t have to orchestrate it all.
Given time, most things take care of themselves.
When we feel we have been denied something,
we miss what we have been given.
Honor:
the wound, not the victimhood;
the emotions, not the drama;
the pain, not the resistance to it.
Your coordinates in time and space are merely a starting point.
More important than what you make of it
is how you allow it to move you;
what you allow to bridge the gap
between form and possibility.
what if
what if
pain isn’t always wrong
tired isn’t always bad
boredom isn’t wasted time
what if
life isn’t about
feeling good
but about
finding meaning
what if
you create meaning
simply by
accepting discomfort
what if
no longer expecting
to feel good
is strangely liberating
what if
you can just rest
knowing that
who you are
where you are
exactly how you are
is just right.
what comes alive for you
What comes to life
at your touch
What meets your eyes
and looks back?
In what do you breathe
the breath of life
In whom do you place
your faith?
Who looks at you
and sees a hero
Which winds kiss
your face?
What seals your hands
together in prayer
What forces buckle
your knees?
When and where
do you bow your head
Where do you rest
when you’re weary?
Whose ears can you trust
to listen
Whose words do you take
for truth?
Whose smiles are
the sun to you
Whose voice
a lifelong echo?
A hint: instead of answers
seek wonder.
living proof
if I may be anything
let me be living proof
that one can feel
the unbearable darkness
yet be whole in Spirit;
that intermittently
through the dark
will be moments of blinding light
& to be overcome
by the weight of it all
does not make you wrong
does not make you unholy
unclean
or unworthy
most of all
it cannot take the light from you.
let me be living proof
that you can be
both light & dark
it doesn’t make you crazy
it just makes you
a fervent student of acceptance;
you cannot control the darkness
nor can you banish it forever
but you can decide
to receive the light
to clear a space for it
invite it
with prayer
reflection
or tokens
of your most precious
memories & dreams;
clearing the space
may be messy
maddening
& seem
like more of a mess
than when you started
(clearing
is not the same
as cleaning)
but you’ll know you’ve cleared space
if inside it feels lighter
if you can breathe easier
if you feel you’re not alone
& despite the shadow
that trails behind
you’re ready
to carry on.
another dimension
you see my dear you think
you are just a shell but in fact
you are as real and unimaginable
as the ocean you hear inside it.
meet me there
we must experience suffering
to release it in the magic of creation.
that’s what real art
conveys:
this tension
this opposition
between what hurts us
& what moves us.
what touches us
& makes us catch our breath;
when life slows to a halt
& the message becomes clear;
when exhilaration gives way to exhaustion
& breathless reunion gives way to solitude:
meet me there.
it begins with a deep breath
and goes something like this….
face to face with the sky 