SUMMONED BY LOVE

Just turned one, all of one.
Wiggly. Resolute. Joyful. Cranky.
Perpetual motion. Emotion. Commotion.
Jonah: my grandson.

He reaches for me.
No, throws himself at me,
knowing without knowing
that I will catch him.
“Leap, and the net will appear.”

The feeling elicited in me? Joy.
Such pure, sweet expression of vulnerability,
such harmonious fusion of need and desire,
such confident invitation into intimacy!

Love’s ancient and ageless summons,
this is what it looks like coming from one of one.
In the same instant freely given,
completely captivating.

To be sought after by one so young,
thereby invited into love’s rules of engagement,
is instantaneously disarming,
heart-warming, reorienting.

If such an incontrovertible subpoena by love
doesn’t immediately reset
all our defaults and presets,
all our attitudes and altitudes,
we’d better check to see
if we still have
a pulse.


Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” (Matthew 19:14)

JOY HAS COME

Today,
I want my every thought, every word, 
every emotion, and every action 
to be bathed and buffed, 
cleansed and clothed in Joy.

Today,
I will practice both living in
and living out this Joy 
from this moment of sweet awakening 
until, at its close, that moment of savored rest.
  
Today,
I will treat all of creation 
with whom and with which I share 
this gloriously alive moment of Life 
with such Joy as Joy entreats me.

And then, at the end of this day,
before I close my eyes to its length and light,
I will look back on it and know
that Joy has come to me, too.

"You have turned my mourning into dancing; you have taken off my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, (Psalm 30:11)

BOTH WAYS

Closing my eyes, I try to imagine what it must have been like to hear Jesus speak the Beatitudes that first time there on a hillside overlooking the Sea of Galilee on what was likely another beautiful and sunny, if earth-scorching, day.
        Frankly, for some these words must have been deeply disturbing and even threatening as it’s likely the crowd included at least a smattering of the rich and powerful who had simply come to check this “Jesus” character out. For them Jesus’ words must have felt like a scathing rebuke of the practices of the reigning powers-that-be (to which they may have adhered and belonged) and their tightly held value system that kept the poor poor and the peace-makers persecuted. 
For others Jesus’ words must have been incredibly freeing, inspiring and even exhilarating!—the kind of words that none of us can get enough of in our lives. Some in the crowd must have literally filled their lungs deeply with fresh vitality grounded in this new and expanding definition of blessing. They must have looked into each other’s sad, tired and maybe depressed eyes and smiled irresistibly at each other, maybe laughed deeply with each other, maybe even hugged and danced in place--joy bubbling up from somewhere deep inside at these incredibly life-giving words! They must have been giddy with hope, with feeling “Wow! No one’s ever put it that way before! My life is worth living! GOD LOVES ME, TOO. GOD’S BLESSING IS UPON ME AFTER ALL!”
Personally, I believe I need to hear these bold words both ways. The part of me that perpetuates and benefits from the practices of the world’s current powers-that-be needs to hear in Jesus’ words the thinly-veiled rebuke of a value system that thrives by virtue of inhumane domination of all creation. At the same time, the part of me that wants to dance with delight in the newfound joy, hope and well-being that these words cause to well up from deep in my soul needs to know that Jesus is talking directly, joyfully, lovingly, and most of all, UNMISTAKABLY to me...and you.


When he saw the crowds, he went up the mountain, and after he had sat down, his disciples came to him. He began to teach them, saying:

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are they who mourn, for they will be comforted.

Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the land.

Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be satisfied.

Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.

Blessed are the clean of heart, for they will see God.

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.

Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are you when they insult you and persecute you and utter every kind of evil against you (falsely) because of me.

Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in heaven. Thus they persecuted the prophets who were before you.” (Matthew 5:1–12)

HOMING: A French Pantoum Poem

Homing toward that something to which we are tethered
The never-ending process of being
A willingness to give up one’s willfulness
Homage, loyalty, serenity and then, in the quiet space: joy

The never-ending process of being
What if it’s not what you think?
Homage, loyalty, serenity and then, in the quiet space; joy
A gift that keeps on giving

What if it’s not what you think?
A willingness to give up one’s willfulness 
A gift that keeps on giving
Homing toward that something to which we are tethered

THE FIREWORKS WITHIN YOU

Greetings, My Love

I am here to speak to you 
through symbols, powerful symbols,
in words intended more to be felt 
than heard. 

I speak from inside of fireworks 
igniting fireworks igniting fireworks.

I am the fireworks 
that are firing within you these days
...indeed, in all your days. 

And, as with multi-stage fireworks, 
I am the first one, 
not complete until the last 
has spoken. 

I am the last, 
which cannot speak 
until those that come before me 
have burst forth in all their splendor.

Each is a “Bravo!” 
igniting a “Bravo!” 
igniting a “Bravo!” 

Each is a celebration 
igniting a celebration 
igniting a celebration

Of you.

Who am I, you ask, 
that I might so boldly speak 
such deep and glorious truths?

I am your joy.

"I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be full."  (John 15:11)

"THIS IS HOW I DO IT."

In other words,
“This is how I do life,”
or at least,
this or that little piece of it.

No, it’s not a banner my ego
needs to raise up high for all to see.

It's just a quiet testimonial
that I am who I am
along with its silently liberating corollary:
you are who you are
—and that this is good, right
and salutary.

You can stake the same claim.
After all, uniqueness is by no means exclusive.
It knows no bounds.
It may not even be unique to this universe.
No one knows.

What we do know is this. . .
you and I can treasure
our own and each other’s distinctiveness.
What we do know is that. . .
by doing so we--and all life around us--
will flourish within this sweet reality.

So no, “This is how I do it,”
is not some self-aggrandizing declaration
I need to strut, peacock-like,
before you or anyone else,
not even the sky above.

It's simply a statement
that I secretly speak from time to time
to reorient my inner compass toward
its delightfully emancipating
"true north."

I gently whisper it into my mind’s ear
—especially at those times when
I’ve forgotten who I am,
and I’ve tried to be someone else
(probably you)
and I’ve spilled over
into their (probably your) space.
Again.

What I do need
—and want—
to say to you and the cosmos
is this:

“I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry for all the times
when I try to change you
because I’ve forgotten who I am,
for all the times when I succumb to thinking
that you or something about you
looks better to me than me,
and for all the times when I do not
respect, cherish and nurture your own
“This is how I do life.”

"When I look at your heavens. . . the moon and the stars. . . what are human beings that you are mindful of them?. . . Yet you have made them a little lower than God, and crowned them [each] with glory and honor. " (Psalm 8:3-5)

ONCE AGAIN,

Once again,
I’ve come here, to the quiet.
I’ve come to be with you, God. 
I’ve come to be caressed by your joy. 

Once again, I’ve forgotten that I am of you. 
So, I’ve forgotten the joy with which you created me,
I’ve forgotten the joy with which you called me into being 
from out of your being.

But now, 
even in this brief moment of attending 
to the you in me, 
I know healing is happening. 
Joy is returning.

Once again,  
you create in me a clean heart, O God. 
You renew a right spirit within me. 
You cast me not away from your presence. 
You take not your holy spirit from me. 
You restore in me the joy of your salvation. 
And you uphold me with your freeing spirit. 

Once again, I see
It is you, not me.
You make me whole. 

More. 

I see
you make me.
Over and over and over. 
You create me—once again,
as in the first making of all things. 

And I give thanks. 
I trumpet your grandeur 
even as I shine with your ecstasy. 

Yes, 
there is much I don't know,
there is much I don’t understand 
about you, 
about me. 

But once again, 
I will trust in you today
even as you will trust in me.

And trust is so much bigger than knowing, 
so much bigger than understanding
so much bigger than me. 

Once again,
I’m glad I came.

(Psalm 51:10-12)