Posted in Leaves on the Poet Tree (Poems)

The Lost Parts of I

i am the scattered one
fragments cast
across the cybersphere
a million pieces of me
invisible
mixing with you
over my head
in the air
like silent wraiths

i am everywhere
and nowhere
omnipresent
without divinity
immortal
in search of my soul
my essence
sucked from
me by vampire
screens

i am the silent one
removed to the cave
away from the
false gods
of fire and wind
and storm
drawing deeper within
to call
a quiet shout

like bats
the lost parts
of i
hear and begin
their returning
to me
like smoke
in the bright
red morning

Posted in Musings and Reflections

A Hidden Life

I am wondering if it is time to be silent;

To remove myself from the noise, to be one less voice clamoring to be heard.

I am still so full.

I have so much to share.

Yet who am I to say my voice is more important than any other’s? There are so many….singing, crying, shouting, falling silent.

I am overwhelmed by information, by the incredible cacophony of sound, of the millions living and dying around me.

This is not simply a moment of stepping away, a few days spent in quiet. There seems to be a greater pull, another voice calling me away into the dark depths of my soul.

There is a dying here, a fear that I will become forever mute and unheard, that I will forgo my responsibility to creation and others by withdrawing,

Though there seems to be a difference now, as if the crashing outside the cave is only that and that if I wait with intention I will be called out into the light of purpose in a timing not my own by the quiet voice of God.

Posted in Musings and Reflections

Indiferencia Se Mata – The Quiet in the Land

My good friend, Verle, may he rest in peace, had a saying that he learned from his Latino friends that he would share often as we would strive to work outside in the West Virginia wilderness within the great buzzing clouds of gnats.

“Indiferencia se mata.”

“Indifference kills them.”

In other words, if you ignore the gnats, they won’t bother you.

Now there is no question in my mind that Verle’s mental capacity far outstripped my own so maybe it worked for him. Though he still would wear a bug net over his head when he was working outside. But in all honesty I really do think he reached a point where even in the midst of a buzzing cloud, the gnats had ceased to exist, at least for him.

I am wondering if perhaps the above adage might be worth applying to the seemingly endless negative rhetoric streaming from a certain White (Supremacist) House. (Or to any such useless drivel). In this age of the 24/7 news cycle and our ability to respond in an instant through social media to anything deemed disagreeable, it is far too easy to give attention to that which probably should be ignored.

Hear these words from Helen Keller:

“It is wonderful how much time good people spend fighting the devil. If they would only expend the same amount of energy loving their fellow men, the devil would die in his own tracks of ennui.”

So the question becomes, what or where or to whom are we expending our limited energy and resources?

Sometimes I wonder if our initial response is simply to alleviate our guilt at not being able to take the necessary steps towards lasting change within or without.

There, I wasn’t silent. I said something. I’ve done my part. Now on to the next tweet. Hey you, asshole, learn to drive!

Hmm, I wonder. Each day is an opportunity to become a better person, and to the best of our limited ability, to make the world around us a better place.

Am I becoming a better person? Am I treating the people around me with kindness and respect? Am I becoming less of a jerk? Am I gentler with my myself and others? Am I helping to make this world a better place?

If, at the end of the day, I can answer yes to these questions, then for that day at least I can say that I am on the right track.

I wonder what would happen to me and the world around me if I would spend more time in prayer and praise than I do in reacting to yet another ignorant comment or bit of negative rhetoric.

Christ have mercy.

Posted in Leaves on the Poet Tree (Poems)

The Silence of Winter

the hum of life did not cease.

it is simply that i was
insulated from its cadence
by the cold.
now, in the world’s warming,
when windows are raised to let in
the cool night air,
my ears are opened to
forgotten sounds.

in the silence of winter,
one must listen closely to
the growing seed.

the flower opens.
the visitor is welcomed.
outside my window, i hear the
warm buzz of bees.

Posted in The Sunday Driver: Life in the Slow Lane

Struck Dumb

there is still so much i want to say
so much i want to share
the conversations
lessons
sermons
stories
play on endlessly in my brain

yet my fleeces remain dry
the venues i sang in have all closed
my phone calls are not returned
my inbox remains empty
the podium is occupied
the microphone given to another

my words are thrown back in my face
and suddenly somehow i am the one in the wrong
my stories remain unfinished
while others form within the maelstrom within

i see what is incomplete
rooms in the midst of renovation
the refuse of life
projects left undone
art that i must pack away because there is no place for them here

unseen
unheard
my body left weak from a week of sickness
my mind ravaged by another betrayal in a long line of them

why i must work quietly here
unknown
i know not
but that is what i am being told

to be silent
to wait
to feed on the bread of life
to let that be my work

out of that labor will come my voice

Posted in Prayers and the Sacred

Dodging Raindrops

I am still not a friend to my brokeness.
I am too often a spectator to my life.

I continue to be uncomfortable with my silence.

I spend too much time dodging raindrops.

Posted in The Sunday Driver: Life in the Slow Lane

Thoughts from a Retreat of Silence

image

Friday

The windows shine with a warm glow.
I am the only one here.
The light welcomes me into an empty room filled with the silence.

Crossing over to the Lodge l leave wet footprints on the concrete before the door.
Though they will fade by the morning, for a moment they were here, brief witness to my passing.

The storm brought me here,
sent me down on tired wings to alight within the lee of silence to rest for awhile.
Before I fall asleep, I hear, outside in the night, above the noise of the wind and rain, the cries of geese flying south for the winter.

Saturday

The rain on the roof and against the walls makes me think there are others here, patrolling like invisible sentries, guardians of a war-weary heart.

You never promised me that there would be no sleepless nights.
You simply said you would stay awake with me.

Sunday

It is a difficult thing to wean myself of the things that do not bring me abundant living.

Sitting in silence gets me nowhere.
That is its purpose.

Posted in The Sunday Driver: Life in the Slow Lane

Going Dark

image

I will be on retreat this weekend.

It is a silent retreat.

No internet.

Silence and retreat are tough for me.

Losing that wireless umbilical is too.

I keep thinking about what I should take or what project to work on so I can stay busy.

That inner churning need is the precise reason why I need to be on retreat.

You would think after all of the inner work I have done I would be easy with myself. But I am not.

So I am going dark for a few days in the hope that my divine spark will be rekindled.

It is still a difficult thing to simply.
be.
me.

Posted in Songs and Spoken Word

Monday Monday Song #21 – The Sound of Silence

(Because all of us need to be
quiet sometime).