After
the Flood
I
was there when the world ended,
ancient
landmarks washed away;
the
rains letting up and my Lord appeared –
first
as Polaris guiding me upon the flood,
then
as Noah at the wheel, sharing the journey.
I’m
on night duty these days,
insubstantial
as a moon shadow,
just
present enough to tend to my chores
while
Noah guides the ship
upon
the boundless main,
beneath
the moonglow
and
the North Star,
awaiting
a new adventure
once
the waters recede.
O
child of God, for the New Life to begin,
the old life must be swept
away.
Nearer
my God to Thee
In
the Pentecostal pews of my childhood, we sang,
(as
they did when the Titanic went down)
nearer,
nearer, my God, to Thee.
Years
later, I was told by Meher
that
God is nearer than my breath,
thus
unsettling my resolve to inch ever closer –
God
being always at hand,
yet
beyond my ability
to
know and feel His presence.
Having
wondered for a lifetime if God exists,
my
Lord suggested that I should instead question
whether
or not I exist. And the answer to
that
might
relieve me of every burden
accumulated
over a lifetime of search.
O
child, get nearer to God (per Meher), by moving
further and further
from I, me and mine.
Rock
of ages
I
am being swept downstream,
wherever
the river takes me.
Ever
since I can remember,
perpetual
change and shift,
illusive
options, good and bad adventures.
Then,
in midstream I grabbed hold
and
climbed aboard a jutting rock.
And
I was overcome by the sudden stillness
after
a lifetime of flux and flow.
And
the clarity – from a view point
that
does not shift with the current.
Stillness
upon a rock in the mid-river’s roar,
without
past or future,
anticipation
or memory,
without
guilt or fear, only the quiet
solidity
beneath my feet.
O
child of God, as Bodhidharma proposed –
settle down where
there is no settling down.
A
prompting of the heart
I
come to the end of the highway
and
strike out across the rough terrain;
no
welcoming arms out this far,
nor
friendly company
and
no turning back. This is my path
and
always has been –
solitude
being a lifelong companion.
Only
the periphery changes.
No
hard proof of anything yet –
just
a few scattered clues
and
a prompting of the heart.
A
settling in to the notion
that
nothing much matters.
It’s
either grace or nothing.
Coming
to the truth of either
is
my only succor –
to
find out or die trying. Alone as always
except,
perhaps, for my Beloved.
I
can let go now His promises
since
there is no turning back,
no
turning aside from whatever
the
Truth might be.
O
child of God, examine yourself in a last attempt
to embrace your one
true Friend.
