Status Updates From Water

On the day I die,
when they carry me to my grave,
don’t be so sure I’m dying to come back!
…
This leaving is an arrival,
a reunion.
…
When the sun and moon set,
they climb another sky.
When you see me going down,
see me rising.
…
A bucket disappears in the well
and comes up full.
A seed is buried in the ground.
A flower sprouts.
…
My mouth closes in this world
and opens in the other.

“The Dead all leave something behind.

Better a trail of good deeds
than a pile of coins,
The world remembers virtue-

and no one can steal it.”

“Here we are today, caught in a whirlpool.
Let’s see who stays afloat.

If waves high as camels flood the world,
waterbirds won’t despair.

What better teacher than the high sea’s heavy waves?
Like fish, our souls thrive,
our faces lit with gratitude.
…
“
I like how he’s saying we’re made for the turbulent waters of life. And that gratitude is a choice, an orientation to help us navigate it.

“Didn’t I tell you
there’s no need to search for me?
I am here, your friend, forever.
…
…
Didn’t I tell you?
Your heart is a lamp.
It lights your way home.
Your soul, divine.
It leads you back to me.

So I’ve told you,
and dear one,
I’ll tell you again.”

(To my reading, a beautiful poem about the constancy, support and love of Christ)

“I wasn’t always this Love-drunk,
this crazed, rapt, and enchanted.
..
I wanted answers-
what is this..that,
and what will they be tomorrow?
..
Awe? I knew nothing of awe.
..
I wanted to be a kingpin,
top dog, bigger than big.

Like smoke, I climbed greedily,
going nowhere-
a crooked plume, wayward,
..
I didn’t know when Love hunts you down,
you only rise higher.
..
I fell,
not a hoarder of treasure.
Treasure.

ah yes yearning existed in the 1200s

“Love, you stole my prayer beads
and gave me poetry.

You found me, hunched over, chanting,
…
thumbing bead after bead, mouthing my repentance,
My heart wasn’t in it.

Love, the moment I saw you,
I was ashamed.
Who was I? Who wasn’t I?
What in me was alive? What in me was dead?
Your flames consumed my questions
and my shame.

In that radiant void,
the soul is born and renewed.
…”

“You can’t put out a fire, dear boy,
with another fire.

You can’t wash my heart’s open wound
with another’s blood.”

The garden’s scent is a messenger,
arriving again and again,
inviting us in.

Hidden exchanges, hidden cycles
stir life underground.
What stirs the life in you?
The garden asks.

The garden thrives.
Invites us to do the same.
…

I didn't know when Love hunts you down, when you fall prey to Love, you only rise higher.

“Seekers on a pilgrimage
to the house of God,
where are you going?

Your Beloved is here. Come back.
Your Beloved lives next door.
Your Beloved is right behind the wall.
..
Look beyond form.
Look into the faceless face of Love.
You are that Love.
You are the house- the dwelling place of Love-
and its maker.
..
Searching for treasure,
you’ve endured so much trouble.
..
You are the treasure
and the veil hiding it.

“Last night in my dream,
I saw my hunger. I saw my need.
I saw an emptiness only God can fill.

Enchanted by the beauty of this poverty,
I nearly fainted.

Enchanted by its perfection,
I lay awestruck till dawn.

This poverty is a mine of rubies.
Its red glow drapes me in silk.”

How lovely to see our incompleteness & raw humanness as beautiful, with awe & reverence. A different way of seeing our fallen state.

Love called out to my soul,
Come in,come close, I've built a house for you.
It won't be free of sorrow or trial.
Come anyway.

I Traveled to Every City:

[My soul was] “a restless heart with no wings.”
…
“Love called out to my soul,
come in, come close, I’ve built a house for you.
It won’t be free of sorrow or trial.
Come anyway.”
…
And who am I when Love obliterates the I
I thought I was,
drawing me from one path, leading me on another?”
…
“I could tell you,
but every time I get to this point,
the tip of my pen breaks.

“Man, Man, Man” Poem

“What kind of hunter?
Caught in your own trap-
a thief stealing from your own house.”
…
“Enthralled by stuff and status,
the crown, the turban, the king’s beard-
thorns pricking your own hands,”
…
“Gazing at the mirror,
You tilt your hat like a crescent moon-
but where is your light?”

“When I leave this body,
people will ask—
what did he do with his life?

I knew you, beloved.
That was enough.”

“You tore open my heart.
Now it shines with a new luster.”

“When the sun and moon set, they climb another sky.
When you see me going down, see me rising.
A bucket disappears in the well and comes up full.
A seed is buried in the ground.
A flower sprouts.
Why imagine another fate for the seed of the human soul?”