In the scars of the tree,
I see beauty.
Why less so in me?
My fingers trace the deformities
that give witness to wood’s history.
Yet in my heart what I think is ugly
is not what the Carpenter sees
for within its wounded tapestry
is the vessel for divinity.
When ice falls and the world lies beneath its frozen weight,
let not your heart become encumbered by the creeping cold of hate.
Like winter, this time is but a season, and the warm sun is never far
from a renewed rising if you but keep hope as your guiding star.
Reflection of sun ~
Suspended in winter sky ~
My heart is the moon
When life is a fist~
like a punch in the stomach.~
Keep your heart open.
“If you want to make the world a better place, take a look at yourself and make the change.
You’ve got to get it right while you’ve got the time. If you close your heart then you close your mind.”
(Listened to the song this am and was struck again by its depth. Mourning the loss of the troubled artist too).
Who loves the unlovely?
I try but I find the capacity of my heart needs to grow
even to the point where there is no unlovely in anyone or anything.
O Love that will not let me go,
love me into loving others,
hold me into holding onto others
even when I want to let them go
or say no to loving them.
For I am lovely in so much as
the world and your children in it
are as lovely to me.
“A light in the darkness!” the prophet cried.
Beneath the layers of shadows, under the rotten stench of your heart,
a flickering flame trying to pierce the oily panes of your soul,
a crystal heart,
glowing within and without. Don’t lie in the dust as the red sun sets.
Let the light in and greet the dawn with a song!
December 13, 1984 (age 17)
Not everything revolves around me.
The only world I can really change is the small sphere called myself, within, and the places and people I touch daily.
Act from the depths of my heart,
building relationships rather than telling people to f*** off.
What finger(s) do I give to the annoying ones?
The window where you used to stand with your face pressed to the glass is still there.
But the treasures within that caught your childish attention have now become possessions.
Or rather they have come to possess you.
You thought the magic was within them and forgot that it had always been within you.
You gave that special aura to them.
Now, as you stand outside that same window and gaze at those things that captured your attention long ago,
you have remembered that you need nothing else.
You already have the greatest treasure.
It is your heart.