Our Father – Another Update
Hey Dad –
You live in the best place possible to increase joyous experience & productive certainty!
Your name alone is meaningful to me, as are Your works in bringing about the world that Mom envisions.
May all You do be in aid of life & creation…please keep us to making improvements!
It is Your fulfillment to see the entire world productive & happy, more connected to activity expressing Love.
For here is the dwelling-space of Your children: we of Your accomplishment, fulfillment & amazed pride.
All You do sources Life at its best-lived level.
To You we bring our disappointments, all that limits our positive growth, our mistakes in this Grand Experiment; anything at all that doesn’t engender Joy. Erase these from our being that they may be replaced with Lovinkindness.
From You we learn how to be innocent of error. Light up the best roads for us to follow. Encourage our hearts, flow through us into each other with Your empowering grace.
The Prayer Flags
Share their messages with us all
Trembling with shredding edges…
Praying to a heaven which (if I may loosely paraphrase)
Seems hell-bent on descending to reach us.
The gods finger the fringe
Thumb the coded symbols with diamond fingers
The flags send messages to the itinerant saints
“Forgive these humans who are never beyond Your forgiveness.”
Choose what you will say: hang your flags to pray.
Dear Mother Death,
When you see my soul wandering in your flowered fields
Catch me up, won’t you, please?
Fashion me into a hard rubber ball
Bounce me for the delight of children
For the elastic jaws of dogs
Place me as a leaf atop your highest tree
That a bird may sing to me in passing, wing me with a feather-touch
Open me as a shrine, put a candle within,
Set me gently into a baby tumbleweed blowing bravely uphill
Place me as the flat tongue of a tubular bell
Calling down the valley for all to enter prayer.
Grow me as a sprig of brilliant purple on the sage-gray desert
Toss me into a great black thunderhead
Trailing rain over mountains thirsted for weeks
Or, failing these, just sit me on your lap & watch me glow.
All in place; nothing missing
And just in time
For now the wind rises in the north
Arranging itself upon a current whistling over the edges of my ears
You always start the same: a spatter-sprit of drops carelessly flung
Against the glass door
From friend to fury, drops burst like small bombs
Then comes that burr of thunder
A mighty split of light forking the sky
There are messages all over the horizon
Runic reveals beyond Revelation
To one such as me, quietly seated
On the inside, looking out with a cup of tea to hand,
Book laid aside for real-time drama, 3-D life
A dance of elements to rhythms I can only ponder
As I sip.
Poets Throw Dice
Sixes & ones
Sevens & fours
Chance & circumstance
Conspire to frame the day.
What we see is up to us but not ours
Miracle or meddlesome
A beginning of ends
No moment lost
As dice are tossed
We write as does nature
Lines on leaves
Runes on water
Words on winds.
We join gamers
Reporting back to divinity
Invisible & reckless
Trapped or galloped free
Ev’ry blank page a sensuous invitation
We shed blood to write with if no ink is at hand!