Mind, Body, Soul When I closed my eyes and prayed, using the word, simplicity, as my anchor—my rock to sit on during the prayer—what I saw was myself—my body—separated into three parts: my head my torso my hips and legs I kept looking at that image. It reminded me of that game we could play as children. A person—perhaps just his face—broken into three parts. Multiple faces, all broken along the same lines. All layered on top of...
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The Face of God I stand before the stand of trees The wood The expanse before me And I see the shards of light— the asymmetric design of relief from the darkness and I think of God Of walking through— trying to walk through— the challenges laid at my feet. Looking out on the faces of mankind but knowing that, in truth, on that day, anyway, I am walking on the path of God; that can evaporate under my feet. Or lead me to a...
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In Keeping Still It was a day like every other during that period of my life. A student. An English student. I worked. I studied. I went to class. Circles. Ever-turning circles. But no labyrinth because there was no Minotaur at the center. A spiral of life. Onward. Steady. Paced. Then the day came. I entered the classroom. Dickens. A teacher that looked a bit like Father Christmas. Other students. I sat near the front, to the right....
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Opening Watering the flowers after a long, hot, dry spell the earth changing its color deepening its hue the flowers themselves savoring the new flow of refreshment happy in the sun now thirst quenched for the moment Filling the dishes food and water touching the soft heads saying, good morning do you want to go out? it might be a bit cold or too rainy or look at all that snow happy eyes gazing back almost a smile Opening my arms...
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Full Full I look at my emptiness And I see my full-up-ness Full of debris Broken pieces Remnants Leftovers of clashes Of lost connections Of misunderstandings And understandings made sparkling clear How do I sort it all out Make a path, even, through it all There are no trash bags for the soul And while the soul is made up of the dirt of our lives Too much refuse is still just that Too much We work on disciplines so that we may be...
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