20 Lines A Day

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Prayer

Originally posted on Spirit Led:

Fog with trees and lamp post

Connect me
to some nugget of truth
or insight
that I may record it
for the world to know
that I may spill it
from sacred lips
like a stream ever-flowing

And if the sound still falls
on deaf ears and eyes avert
from the vision in my soul

So then use me as the song
in their hearts
the breath when they
are disconnected
the lonely howl of pain
when the darkness lasts too long

May I be the focal point
of hopeful direction
a calming in the rage
a cooling in the heat

Let my life be a lamp in the fog
starting first with me

©SpiritLed 2014

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Hope

The full moon hangs heavy
in the sky just before dawn
pregnant with the weight
of new beginning
a mystical ball of way-showing light
that speaks in silence
to the many who clamor to kneel
before its placement in the heavens
a throne of ruby-ringed stardust
and a thousand twinkling courtiers
bleed across the darkened canvas
of the mind’s eye
in the holy sanctum
of the soul
where heart light resides
in a private universe
charged with the promise
of Hope

©SpiritLed 2014


Divinity Entombed

Entrance to Sousse catacombs flooded with light

In the morning you look like every other
sinner, makeup smeared, hair unkempt,
heart heavy with the bloody dawn of forgiveness

For last you went to Sunday School
the preacher warned, “Remember,
everyone’s a sinner”, even 10-year-old
girls with pigtails and lofty dreams,

and you swallowed hard again the accusation
cloaked in kindness, accepting the wafer with a
clutching sense of panic that hell
might befall you if you do partake, and
most especially if you don’t

Heaven became a destination,
a sought-after paradise unobtainable
amidst your sureness that there is no
eternal story, your suspicion that even you
might not be real

And in this darkness welled a great sorrow,
a longing which cried to fling itself to freedom,
in this solitude laid a song, mimicking
the mournful wail of birds at dawn

Beneath skin stretched translucent,
intertwined with bone and sinew,
muscles, fat, and pulsing organs
deep within the essence of you, lies the
realness that you seek, the ghostly ghastly
spirit soul, your divinity entombed

Go now, and wrestle free from your human skin,
allow the light of your eternal being to permeate
the darkness of your soul

©SpiritLed 2014


7 Comments

The Healing Parts

The healing parts are mighty and wild,
careening through the dark mind,
simultaneously passive and angry,
they take you over, consume your soul.

They hunger for affection, else they grow
a life of their own, they thrive on tenderness,
else they join together to conquer
their demons with your pain.

The healing parts want to survive,
as the soul writhing in the night.
They are displaced and dissociated,
and only love returns them home,
validation of their realness,
so they may quench their fires,
no longer reduce you to ashes from the
inside out.

The healing parts are us,
and we, them. We are the parts
we buried deep so long ago, the voice
silenced and the voice raging, the broken, fragile,
lonely, fearful, hurting, hating parts.  We are healing
and we are real.

©SpiritLed 2014


1 Comment

Birth Day

In a parlor plain and
solemn, a small crowd huddles
Tomorrow I celebrate
one more year, today
I attend my friend’s
final life celebration

Funerals produce in me
a subtle sense of asphyxiation
and I sit in the quiet chapel,
in this room full of acquaintances
and strangers, barely breathing
for fear I might explode
into unending tears

But the moon rising in my heart
speaks of fullness and cycles,
and creates in me a curious juxtaposition

and a shift happens, a veil lifts to reveal
awareness that death is life anew,
that as one celebrates birth
another now possesses a freedom
that earthly souls can only imagine

Rest in Peace, my friend,
and also my yesterday self,
for today we both start anew
and tomorrow as well,

fulfilled in the knowledge
that neither death nor birth
signify an end or a beginning

but rather each day is a new path
in our personal eternity,
one more step in the journey
of Divine life

© SpiritLed 2014


3 Comments

When Silence Ends

When, as a child, did you play happily
by the stream, and come singing home,
passionately sharing your adventures,
only for the beloveds to tell you, “Quiet!”

And when, in your classes, did you
confidently speak your truth, answer
their questions, paint your construction
paper masterpiece,  and the trusteds told you,
“It’s not good enough.”

And when did you feel the whisper of spirit
in your soul, gently guiding you on your way,
and you shared, and they laughed?

And when did you stop listening, painting, writing, speaking, trusting? 

And when will you decide that the darkness has
lasted too long, that the  passion of a new day
can no longer wait, lest  you tear free from your
own skin where you’ve been confined all these years?

That stumbling across stones and briars,
feet cut and bleeding, is preferable to the safe
and righteous path, where no pain, in fact
nothing at all, makes cuts into your soul?

When will you decide that fear of words
without real meaning will no longer be the
prison walls that demand freedom of the captor?

And when will you stoke the flames, when will you once
again tend to the spark, blow the breath of life into
the still-smoldering ashes, collect the branches and
twigs that have fallen in your path, burn them on
your altar, and fuel the dawning of reclaimed light?

© SpiritLed 2014


2 Comments

Shhh

I intended to post this here to begin with, but messed up.  Still getting used to being back, and there are changes to WordPress since I’ve been away that are tripping me up a bit as well. Anyway, I went to reblog it and accidentally reblogged it to my blog too. LOL…so I’m posting it here too.  I WILL get used to this again. :)

Shhh

 

Amid the silence

Soft whispers of wind

Soothe my restless soul

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