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There is no such things as striking a balance between the i and the other, nor heaven and earth, nor life and death.  Those who do, unknowingly choose one or the other all the same.  If we must fall, let us fall with conviction, or at least style.  Anything else is just cowardice.

Blind Bird

Better to be lost and arrive by chance,

Than know the way and never arrive

needing space

The filling of days with people and works, in order to overcome the great inquietude created by inaction, has as its fruit, being left unmoderated, the equally pressing demand for an escape from these very people and works. Where the limits lie, or if even such a distinction between stillness and restlessness is to be found at all, is the crush of my soul these latest moments.

Under these stars We dance
until ecstasy shoves
and we fall
searching each for darkness
we sequestrate
i ponder you not once
in this rapture

like worms to the rain

I dreamt last nite of a fictional girl on the streets with whom we were working with. She called very late one evening, saying she wanted to leave the streets and could I come pick her up. In my dream I leapt from my bed, quickly readied myself, and drove to the central plaza where we had agreed to meet. That is all.

Moments later the alarm on my phone went off announcing a start to a new day. I slowly dragged myself out of bed and stumbled downstairs in the still dark morning to greet brother sun and the God that made him.

Now I am thinking two things.

First off, I am thinking why in my dream was I so quick to mobilize in order to pick up the street girl, yet to arise and speak to my Lord this morning I struggled. One answer may be that I focus so much more on my doing than on my being. Another, and not exclusive to the first, may be that whether going to the girl or to God, I am also going to the other – that the girl is God disguised, and that through prayer to God I can engage with those I pray for. Yet, with the face of need it is easier to run to God, than in the cloak of silence and invisibility in which one often finds Him in the silence of prayer and meditation.

Second, that the joy that accompanied the event of helping this girl leave the streets was not part of the dream, but a real joy waiting to be fulfilled. This was not a dream about flying or pink elephants. The streets are real, the kids are real, the need is real. Thus, the dream is real. What remains to be seen is if my reaction is real.

It rained last nite – an exciting thunder and lightning storm after a spell of dryness. I got to thinking about how worms, when it rains, boot it to the surface, flop around in the wet, and more often than not get eaten up by birds. Maybe God is a bird, and is sending rain to coax us out where she can gobble us up and make us a part of her.

silent God

a bird song
crushed by a passing car
a silent prayer
broken by a passing thought
left alone
yet i am surrounded
there is no refuge
from all this nonsense

Everywhere, all around, surrounded, by what? Who are the beautiful people that find silence and are able to stay there? We read of it, think of it, hear of it, but why does it elude us?

Silence comes to the waiting soul. Silence is not without sound, but it is without disturbance – and we are all so disturbed. Few can find it in the midst of traffic, while many miss it in the open field. And yet it is the place where without sound we hear more and within darkness we see more than all our most ambitious efforts of learning and discovery might afford us.

Wait for it friend, even should it take you a thousand lives, for there you will encounter the thundering voice of the silent God.


she is a beauty whose sadness draws me;
a single tear floods my soul,
opening up ninety-nine worlds;
a chaste garden giving birth to Life.

It is unexpected where we find enlightenment and even more unexpected how this enlightenment appears when it is found. It is the simplest of things to acquire; yet the most brave and adventurous soul rarely encounters it. Enlightenment is a leaping forth through open fields in a secure prison, and a quiet mourning Christmas day. It is in letting go and holding on, something won with sweat and gained in silence. It walks without moving, talks without speaking, and sleeps with eyes wide open.

When one is free “like this”, there are no laws, no lines, no difference; all questions have the same answer; God is everywhere all in all.