Birthday Rejuvenation

Today I thought I’d get back to myself as a gift to myself, to get to know myself again as I am now and was then, a little at a time. I love my birthday- it never needs to be anything other than an ordinary day, but things take on a vibrancy, like during a storm. Today is not like any other day. Truth is, that no day is like any other day- but I forget this all the time. There is sacred in the mundane, beauty in the daily rhythms,  and Love can infuse everything that we do.

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I have had this poem running through my head for days now, as I’ve struggled through all that is here to shape me and prune me and tear down the veils. It is not mine and I do not know the author, though I believe it is published in the Gnostic Gospel. It spoke to me through sheets of rain and days of facing a self I did not want to see in the mirror before me. I share it now, as a reminder to myself and a gift to you.

A Sleep of Prisoners

The human heart can go the length of God. Dark and cold we may be,

but this is no winter now. The misery of the centuries cracks, breaks, begins to move. The thunder is the thunder of the flows- the thaw, the flood, the upstart spring. 

Thank God our time is now. 

When wrong comes up to meet us everywhere, never to leave us

 till’ we take the greatest stride of soul man ever took.

Our fears are now our soul signs

The enterprise is exploration into God.

It takes so many thousand

years to wake

But will you wake, for pity’s sake?

-Unknown

Thank God our time is now. ❤

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Rising Waters

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Tonight She is silent, still, unending. Falling across waters.

Hidden for a decade, but always known with big, bright eyes. It is such a curious flaw of the human condition that some thing can stand before us daily, and as it bores a hole in us with its stare we look on, we take the laser-pain as if we do not feel it, we let the thing loom.

We are great pretenders.

And when we fall across our rivers constructing bridges that finally move us away from the poisons we’ve lived by, still, in the flesh there is resistance. We feel a thing missing, but we will acquiesce no longer.

We are the thunder now- She is the thunder now- lightening beams of love to tear up the world around us that acted as a tabernacle we could not pray in.

It is not pretty, when we fall across our waters. It does not gratify the mind in any immediate way, but the beauty of the soul alights in the truth of the process.

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