Saturday, March 16, 2024

His business

His business                                                                                       
 
You might feel your pouch is empty –
nothing to give anyone of any value
 
but what others receive from you
is a happenstance beyond your decision or control.
 
Perhaps, your emptiness is the gift; your absence;
your rebuff; perhaps, your need, your cry for help.
 
Who gets what from whom is Baba’s business;
as is what your gift consists of
 
and the precise moment you will forevermore wise up.
Your disappointments, discouragement and gloom –
 
His business, too – as is every detail on your long,
rough journey from ignorance to Knowledge.
 
O child of God, everything
is a gift from the Giver.




 

Tuesday, March 12, 2024

God vs God

God versus God                                                                               
 
There’s no battle being waged,
though I feel deeply wounded;
 
the overturned landscape blackened,
littered with dead hopes, lost campaigns.
 
In this hollow I find myself
so small, lost and powerless,
 
knowing not what the reasons are
for fighting anymore
 
nor who is the opposition.
As I wander in search of someone
 
to accept my sword and surrender,
I feel more like a battlefield than a soldier
 
though there is no war being waged,
no opposing armies, only God versus God.
 
O child, even your disillusionment
is a precious gift from the Father.


(drawing by Rich Panico)



 

 

  

Saturday, March 9, 2024

The sea of dreams

The sea of dreams                                                                                     
 
Take heart, o dreamer! (still deep in your slumber).
The Awakened One is beside your bed, whispering
 
in a language you have long forgotten, entering
your dreams to sow the seeds of clarity.
 
He’ll abandon, at times, His gentleness –
rudely slap your face or rump just to wake you up;
 
shake you roughly; strip you of your coverings; 
draw aside the curtain, open a window
 
upon the cold, uproarious world –
all the while patiently calling your name,    
 
the one He gave you ages ago, before
He set you adrift on the vast sea of dreams.
 
O child of God, your Father would never leave you
to an existence of aimless diaphaneity.


(painting by Joe DiSabatino)



Wednesday, March 6, 2024

An eternal halt

An eternal halt                                                                                 
 
I’m watching the world go by
not from a solid hillock above it
 
but from a cart in the middle of a field
pulled in random circles by a blind mule.
 
I picture everything as standing still,
like that oak tree providing a moving shade
 
as the day progresses but everything is adrift
as if I were on the ocean’s surface,
 
the detritus of my karmic life
floating into my reach and out again
 
as I shift with the current like shade with the sun,
the route of the planet, the cart and the roving mule.
 
O child of God, the aching desire
of humanity is to come to an eternal halt.