miracle-beyond-me
49/M/Ohio
I hope the words and images in my writing kindle a curiosity, comfort and fellowship with readers who also hunger for inspired mystery and gracious awe. I like Sufi, and Bhakti verse, Shamanic imagery, and many other forms of divinity oriented literature.
I am anxious, which looks
a lot like the young sparrow's
feathers quivering taught
as it pecks a meal of seed
endlessly aware of theft
by beak or death by talon.
And I am so proud of it.
Both my tense tissues
and frantic sparrow
vibrating in the sunlight
fearing our pains and endings,
ingesting our stubborn
dedication to life.
Nov 23, 2021
Nov 23, 2021 at 2:53 PM UTC
How many times have I wanted
to leave the world?
Actually, I know the number.
It’s a very holy number
though hard to enumerate.
It’s the last prime number,
indivisible. Just a number
declaring that dumb love is the body
before all numbers
tumble off into infinity.
That’s how many times
I have wanted to leave
the world, because I reject
the world’s destiny into
all infinity, and prefer
the ignorant everlasting
of love’s decay.
Nov 22, 2021
Nov 22, 2021 at 12:57 AM UTC
Of course I keep stuffing the ***** rags
of ****** illusion down my throat!
Much better than drowning in the dark pools
of syrupy disdain you've wrung
from your tacky garments of fear.
Feb 24, 2021
Feb 24, 2021 at 10:56 PM UTC
I read of a mystic who, as a child,
fell backwards, his endearment
for creation needing to race
beyond the boundaries
of his body, when he had looked up
and witnessed the dark underbellies
of flying geese framed against the sickly
verdant clouds of a thunderhead.
I nearly fell over myself tonight
looking up and witnessing the black
veins of the Pin Oak framed against
the city's navy orange overcast.
But I stopped myself long before
a full tumble because I worried
what the neighbors might think.
The grace of creation is always there
to be witnessed, and courage
is the good sense to put the miracle
of belonging well before the loss.
Apr 5, 2020
Apr 5, 2020 at 10:59 PM UTC
For the first time since Mid-March,
when I reached the end of my drive
at the start of an early night's walk,
I looked up and actually saw the moon
and the stars. That is to say, the lights in my eyes
intimately explained their cold journeys
across the sky's expanse, so the moon
and the stars are more complete now
because I see them, and my body
is more complete now because it
has been touched by the dedication
of creation's brightest fires.
I understand fear as the worship
of the suffering bound to come,
and I understand fearlessness
as the respectful nod of recognition
traversing the spaces between
luminous creatures all prepared
to perish so long as the love continues.
Apr 2, 2020
Apr 2, 2020 at 11:06 PM UTC
We've all heard the sonorous brook
use water, stone, bank, and gravity
to tell some lovely stories.
But I'm angry and wise now,
so the other day, I actually
heard it tell the truth -
That god has no power.
But, god does walk with full mercy
deep into our dark cloud of suffering.
Mar 29, 2020
Mar 29, 2020 at 1:05 AM UTC
All days are bright, all days are warm and gentle.
There is no distance between myself and the most enviable
lapping of the surf along the shore, because you are here.
How does the miracle happen? Consider my heartbeat
without yours. Consider my thump, and your thump
now coming together under the skin, and here arrives
another thump, another drumming, a falling and rising
and falling and splashing. We have replicated the vocation
of the oceans, and our creation knows that he knows,
and what does he dare do with this knowledge -
he laughs. There is no greater proclamation of love
pulsing among any of the wild beasts of the deep.
Mar 9, 2020
Mar 9, 2020 at 1:01 AM UTC
I’m confident you are bolted
to your deathless beauties.
I know mine are always
there - purple, nighttime,
desert, floating,
cloak, sickle,
luminous, wall,
minaret, wailing.
You see, our pleasure
serves the divinity,
and our fluids
have instincts
to drench every
permanent icon
in a flooding rain
of freedom adored.
Mar 3, 2020
Mar 3, 2020 at 9:07 AM UTC
The Song of Emmanuel
scents the room
and I am heart broken
as protection has been mine
since my first days,
but still, you and I live
through our days of body
and the abandonment
of those before us
and the abandonment
of those not come.
He did not come.
She did not come.
But we are here
with our beautiful arrivals
and our beautiful endurances
and we live through
the days of our body, and this
dark night, we say farewell.
Mar 3, 2020
Mar 3, 2020 at 12:42 AM UTC
You can get to the light
through the darkness,
but your chances
aren't very good.
So I think I'm going to
call off my campaign
against all the beautiful ones
who are not possessed by me.
Mar 2, 2020
Mar 2, 2020 at 1:24 AM UTC