"I Am Always Following"

I am always following You
but sometimes I forget

as I manage, again, to
manufacture a golden image

that I place in front of my eyes
and I think that is what I follow.

This, of course, is terrifying,
to follow this lifeless lump of gold.

So I think the only way
is to figure out how to lead

myself to safety, thinking
I have been abandoned.

What sure relief to see the idols
melt gently away and to see

Your shining, smiling face
just up ahead beckoning

in such love that I am
instantly restored to grace

and surefootedness following
the truth of who I am.

"I Would Not Lead"

I cannot repair my ego
with my tool kit of time and space

or with questions, rules
and understanding.

My ego can but be forgiven
for the simple fact of

not being real or true in any way.
For this I now know

I merely follow One Who Knows
the way, for I cannot lead.

It isn't that I should not lead,
but that I cannot lead.

Unreality cannot in any way
lead reality.

What is false cannot in any
way lead the truth.

The blind cannot lead
the One Who Sees All.

Death cannot lead life
nor hate love.

Therefore, today, and
tomorrow and then again and again.

I will merely choose to follow
for I would not lead.

"I Fell"

I

fell

in

love

then

I

got

up

"Yet"

You sound different
deeper yet hollow

transcendent but
not present

willing yet not knowing
what to will

I know not your course
but I know my own

Let us steer our night boats
across the ocean of mind

until we reach the
shores of everlasting peace

and right now
in spite of the galaxy

of feelings at the fingertips
of my finite heart

I feel at peace with not
remembering everything

yet

"Keep My Happiness Safe"

You agreed to keep my happiness safe
while I looked elsewhere

I counted on you to tend to
and encourage and delight

in my happiness even though
I sought for what was not.

Now that you have returned
my happiness to me

I don't quite remember
what to do with it.

Being happy just seems
too simple.

"Looking For Love"

Christ asks that He may use my eyes today
I give him my sleep eyes

in hopes that I will wake up myself
as the Holy Spirit looks through me.

Right now my eyes are firmly
attached to my tired Monday morning body.

It is a funny thing that being
awake in Christ is much more

believable after getting a good night's sleep.
I keep thinking if I could

just sleep 8 hours a night
I would feel alive, refreshed, happy even.

But what if the key to feeling rested
was to let the Holy Spirit look through me?

Wouldn't the radiating love
and flow of natural forgiveness

plump my cells, strengthen
my heart and smooth my wrinkles

more that 8 perfect hours of sleep?
How do I let the Holy spirit look

and not get in the way?
I am willing to find out.

Holy Spirit I am willing to be just
as I am and quietly let

you peer through my eyes
that I might fall into

salvation as easily as I
could fall in love.

"A Hero's Welcome"

I want a hero's welcome
when I am home

not a party for the
prodigal son who

returns penniless
willing to be a servant.

I want the journey
of a moment to be

considered brilliant,
wonderful, courageous even.

I am a hero
for I am God's Son.

Love bid me adieu
and welcome back.

"The Story Is Not The Miracle"

And another thing
what is up with your
sharpish retort to
the outpouring of my heart?

Did I say too much;
was I too open;
did it hurt somehow
to bear witness to the miracle?

How stupid I've been,
how brittle and insensitive
to not see this story could
not find a home in your heart

while you are hurting still.
Forgive my verbose blunder
and let me get you cup of tea
and let's be still together

until your hurt melts
leaving nothing but life
giving refreshment
and comfort for us both.

"Please Cry at Home"

There is no room for tears here
where we are busy forming treatment plans.

We have questions and answers
and tools and reason.

We cannot stop for you to cry,
there simply isn't time.

Our job is to mend your body
with everything we know.

Your feelings get in the way
of our busyness and routine.

But now I see you sitting there
alone in the waiting room.

Quiet and still. Trusting.
Remembering wholeness

even as your body tells
a different story.

I want to cry a river of tears
for the great Unknown Healer

to come and gather us both
in his arms and be home

where we can
cry together.

"The Gifts of the Spirit"

Life is the reason
forever is a word

Wholeness is the reason
healing can create anew

Living is the reason
for joy

Happiness is the reason
I was created

Loving my brother
is how I remember the truth

" The Gifts of the Ego"

Death is an excuse
to not live forever

Sickness is an excuse
to not be whole

Fatigue is an excuse
to not live fully

Sadness is an excuse
to not be happy

Loneliness is an excuse
to not love my brother

"This Alien Will"

This alien will have I treasured
thinking it could bring me

what I want, namely something
other than what I've got,

is second nature to me.
I now believe "Survival of the Fittest",

"Truth hurts" and "Time" as
the natural order of life.

Then I read this morning
"A happy outcome to all things is sure"

and either this is true or
everything else I know is false.

I am betting on the happy outcome
because that is the only thing that makes sense.

To know all wrongs are righted,
all slights healed

and the alien will
will be found

not
at all.

"I Am Determined to See"

Anger comes in with
a rush of power.

Determined. Poised.
Yet because I do not

understand its purpose
I quit breathing

until it passes.

What if
I breathed

into
the anger

and let it
be?

"Shocked"

My store of grievances
is tinder to your spark

of annoyance.
The conflagration

which ensues
shocks

the hell

out

of

me.

"What is Anger?

Anger

is

the unknown

force

of passion

that

opens

the door

to

inconceivable

irretrievable

delights.

Fear not.

"Anger's Gift"

When I can finally let my anger go
I am wiped clean of all illusion.

I barely remember my name,
or what I was doing.

Perhaps this is anger's
greatest gift to me.

The empty space it leaves.
Not a "waiting to be filled" space

but a holy emptiness
whose stillness calms all fears

and leaves me with a
simple yearning for the truth.

"Burning Bush Starts Fire"

There is such an immense, endless
stuck place in me that simply

will not express anger
in any healthy way.

I clamp down the breathing
of my heart so tightly I nearly

black out from the lack of air.
I am instantly ashamed and immobilized

by my own searing bushfire of hate
racing to annihilate every bit of me.

It was a too late, hollow realization
that I interpret all closed off

parts of anyone as anger-
not distractedness, tiredness or busy-

just anger: my own melting
rage against.....

what?

The lesson today mocks me now,
"This is a day of stillness and of peace."

My haughty inner comic sneers
"Sure we can have peace but

your ANGER is STILL here"
Oh Jesus, how do I accept

anger? How do I make a space
for that heinous of sins:

a boiling grievance against
my bothers? Against myself?

"Unwrapping Presence"

I kept seeing I had a choice
of whether to decide myself
or ask for help and direction.

Every time I chose a nanosecond
of holy help, a small decision

I could not make presented itself
easily like your Mother handing
you the next birthday present to unwrap.

The funny thing was that each
decision was the same:

"Unwrap the gift"

Each gift was wrapped exquisitely
in tears, or cupcakes or unwelcome guests,

yet the decision to receive
the gifts was all it took

for the perfection of the moment
to be revealed and this

morning I sit quietly
in the pale blue dawn in wonder

and gratitude at the bounty
of yesterday.

Are all days like that?
An unending stream of

gifts and my only decision
is whether to unwrap them

or not?

"On the QT"

Why is it that "quiet" and Heaven
seem to be describing one another?

You don't ever read
of noise or cacophony

and Heaven together.
Heaven is what Quiet Does.

Quiet is a singular
thought that calms fears,

brings you to your senses,
and stills activity.

Quiet prepares the heart
for listening and knowing.

Our true state, that eternal
joy called Heaven, must

be one of Quiet expectation
of God's grace.

The pregnant moment of promise
when the orchestra

is focused on the conductor
united in the inevitability of music.

The Holy Spirit is God's gift,
by which the quietness of

Heaven is restored
to God's beloved son.

"No."

You told her "No."
without anger or chastisement.

She heard "No", not abandonment
or shame.

The "No" both held back
and evaporated the threatening

tide of emotions leaving
only stillness in its wake.

And in the stillness,
they layed together praying

caressing one another
in the quiet,

knowing nothing, save the
sure trust in the quidance received.

"4 Hours & 17 Minutes"

Summer crickets cackled
outside my bathroom window

and as I creamed my neck
I thought of the days' wonders

I had all but ignored.
I let myself cry in front

of a new friend; certainly
a mark of love and openness.

I let go the daughter who leaves
too soon happily and without worry.

I learned my laptop battery has
exactly four hours and seventeen minutes

before it dies (a good thing to know),
I napped without guilt.

I realized that I actually
missed my businesses on my days off

like they were old faithful friends
not quadruplets at feeding time.

And just now, when I
turned on the light in the living room

in order to put down these thoughts
just what a gift my poems are

to me.

"A Pillar and A Puddle"

I'm a pillar
and I'm a puddle.

A shining saint
who's in a muddle.

I clear a space
for contemplation

yet end up crying,
my great temptation.

"Not enough?" cried the pillar
as it held the world in place.

"Not enough" sighed the puddle
who rushed to fill the space.

All at once the sky crackled
with delightening.

And though it all seemed
very frightening

the pillar and the puddle
formed an extraordinary huddle

and together shouted
"Not Enough!"

Until the Universe shook
with gales of laughter.

"Not enough?" the voice
said quite lovingly, "After

all I did to show my love,
from deep below and up above,

and you still want
More?"

"More!" the pillar and the puddle
cried together, linked arms and grinned again.

I'm a pillar
and I'm a puddle.

A shining saint
who's in a muddle.

"Flying Blind"

I am flying blind
in a storm of my own making.

How can I ask for guidance
or a homing beacon?

What I really need, it seems,
is the formula to quit creating storms

or to learn to love the excitement
of flying blind.

Woo hoo!

Still,

I don't much care for flying
and blindness isn't all that.

Now what?

Peace,

for that is all there really

is.

"Desire"

Why can I think of 100 reasons
something can't or shouldn't be done,

and struggle to think of why
a thing can or should be done?

Could I be asking
the wrong questions?

Maybe can and can't and should
and shouldn't are unimportant.

What's left, then, after the
raucous circus troop of can can'ts and should shouldn'ts?

Desire.

Pure. Real. Attractive.

"And He shall give you
the desires of your heart."

That's all the matters.

"Still Life"

Let the stillness

become my center again

meet me there will you

and we can bask in the light

of one another

"One For All"

I guess what I really want is the truth.
The truth about peace. The truth of family.
The truth in work, time, space and politics.

I have lost my taste for illusions, I think,
and I want celebration from the heart
with or without candles.

I want work from my center
that captures and sets free inspiration
to you from me.

I want a world that makes sense
and a day that is not overfilled
I want the heart of my family, not just

their agreement or help or words.
I want the stillness inherent in all things
to join my memory again now.

I guess what I am trying to say is
I want Heaven
and I want it now.

And lest this sound churlish
and self centered I will add--
I want it for all.

"A Babe in the Garden"

In a few minutes
it will have been fifteen years

since she arrived in the world,
a babe in the garden, again.

The sweetness from whence she came
still lingers and pooles,

eddying around her as a tide.
She has never quite believed

all I told her about
"How Things Are" and

I think she knows the secret
about this land of dreams.

but having fallen in love
with stories and their telling

long ago--she will
stay until the end

enjoying every character,
event and scene in the drama

of her own making.

"Along for the Ride"

What is wrong with me?
Why can't I plan ahead
for the things I love?

Is this a challenge
of cross purposes
in my head and heart

or am I shying away
from the unleashing
of real happiness?

What if I let happiness
go its own way
and I just went along for the ride:

"Birthday Blues"

She's right.
I do do everything
at last minute.

Her tears were my own.
I, too, hated the idea
you can't always get

what
you
want

and here we are again,
gathering at last minute
the ingredients for celebration

of the birth
of our dear one.

Isn't there a better way
to celebrate
what is

than by clinging
to what
is not?

"Music Download"

I download my heart into you
that I might see who I am

thank you for allowing
my Self to sit safely in your embrace

while I compose myself
in time, once again, to rejoin

the song of eternity
in our heart

"Invitation to Tea"

Will I ever be able to lovingly accept
my insanity of the dream separation?

I have arrived at the concrete
core of my unwillingness

and I can but shrug my shoulders
in disbelief that this part of me

still wants the illusion more
that truth. Perhaps this is

a deep fear, an underground cavern
of terror not yet uncovered by the Holy Spirit.

In that case I think I will
just sit here and have a nice

cup of tea and rest while the Spirit
in me prepares the way

for gentle awakening.

"Or Not"

How can resistance itself satisfy me
when I could have both the resistance
and what I am resisting?

What if resistance was simply
the power grid switching on
the searchlight of truth

and by allowing both I
am set free from always
having to chose?

Today I step away from
the illusion of choice for
I am already home

where happiness lives
and fear is but the
thought I can choose

happiness
or not.

"What if I Choose now?"

What if the garage was cleaned
and the old carpet disposed of and the wood refinished?

What if the paint was touched up
and everything was in its place?

What if my blog was a success
and my books were published?

What if I could run five miles
and adored my vegetables?

What if my husband surprised
me with a Tiffany bracelet?

What if my children were happy
and fulfilled and my parents on their own?

Would I be any happier than
I can be right now?

Now is where I choose my happiness
the rest is just a footnote of time.

If that thought gives you a slight
sinking feeling then you

have just come face to face
with eternity.

Eternity is the everpresent
tide of joy we ride on as

we spin our tales of living.
Now is the time to let go

and float on that swell
of delight in my bosom

that I thought was indigestion,
that unknown tickle

I feel underlying my daily
choices is who I am.

How can illusions satisfy
when I am the truth?