The unlit wick

The unlit wick                                                                                           

I search the world for light and warmth

while, apparently, my heart is made of tallow;

no way or will on earth or within to spark the unlit wick,

but You promise over lifetimes

adversities and satiations, acquiescence

and perceptions will scrape away the crust

and expose the whole ball of wax;

its absolute vulnerability to flame and dissolution.

When ignorance comes from accumulated wisdom;

when love cleaves from romance and desire;

when heartache reveals its inherent beauty;

when grief becomes a humble dismantling

of the false, by grace will the interior candle be lighted,

the veils catch, the whole tinderbox house go up in flames.

O child of God, you seek light and warmth.

The Godman is the bearer of the torch.

Down to earth

Down to earth                                                                                  

It’s raining like a steady reminder.

It takes you down a notch –

the dampening, the quieting,

the dimming of the day.

Yesterday you soaked up the sun,

sprinting in its clarity and warmth

unencumbered along the shore.

Now clouds overhead, distant thunder;

it takes rain, each drop a sting, a spur, a tiny fetter,

an eroding of the momentary stature,

to bring you down to earth,

to bring you around to your senses.

Don’t cozy up to this world.   

Fidelity and stability aren’t in its nature.

The best it will do is tease you with glimpses

of immortal beauty, with twinges of love

and then, open up a grave.

The rain will let you in on the secret –

let you listen a while to its pelting

the lid of your casket.

O child of God, hope and despair –

get not soaked to the bone by either one.

The evidence of solitude

The evidence of solitude                                                                         

So much time You spent this advent in strict seclusion,

apparently to end our strict seclusions –   

the evidence of solitude lifelong and (we’re taught) aeons longer;

in the shade and marrow of this house of bones –

‘til You get a foot in the door promising to swing it wide

to the multitudes; to ecstasy and sorrow;

to death and decay; to Self; to God. 

You intervened – constant Companion;

working Yourself into exhaustion to change the equation.

Where once were two – self on one side,

universe on the other – now there’s an indistinct,

yet powerful, volatile third – a method and option opened

to penetrate and redeem the reclusive,

drop soul nature of every human being.

O child of God, all He’s asking

is that you share creation with its Creator.