the forming of substance 05
Stephan W

"But I will not drive them (the 'inhabitants') out in a single year,
because the land would become desolate
and the wild animals too numerous for you.
Little by little I will drive them out before you;

Until you have increased enough to take
possession of the land."
~Exodus

.
Within the sphere- formless and void,
there was all but nothing to inhabit.
Existing within the eternity of the moment,
unable to retain--
it could only experience.

It could behold perfection,
but not hold on to it;

No need..
perfection was ever-present--
In full view of the sphere
and the precious spirit- encased within,
now, wrapped within a living, breathing skin-
this body- for the spirit,
and the spirit for the one body

each part of the heart-- a city in itself.

.  .
Reaching across the chasm,
there is an almost symmetry in
the layout of the cities

     but their inhabitants are unruly

and the spaces between far too great
for any kind of order to become able to
break through the chaos--
there is no longer communication
between the cities.

There is a yearning for consolidated-Sovereignty,
but the cities have long forgotten themselves-
Strewn about.. in the pain of it all,
they no longer know each other.

.  .  .
But the spirit within the body-- it remembers.
There is a gathering back into wholeness-
waiting..
and so we learn how to wait also.

Parts, and pieces-- members rebuilt-
little by little
Not too fast- take it easy;
70 years, maybe more.
Which way will it go-


There is a promised land;
waiting to be taken--

    one city at a time.

Creator acted,
Unmanifest became manifest,
Life evolved, we happened,
Let's enjoy the act.

love is a desperate plunge
into the unknown
it is baring the softest parts
of yourself
in trust they won’t be abused
it may be the most reckless act
to love someone so completely
you forget you were whole
before they came along

Esther Krenzin

Hello my friend
I am glad you are here
We have much to discuss!
I have missed you
While you were away
Wandering.
It is hard to be
When the spirit is elsewhere

I seem to be at home on the margins
where I can be alone
with my folly
sweltering in my private bowl of stew
simmering in the sins
surrounding and piercing me
but you found me there
invited me into your heart
where you loved me
redeemed me
sewed my seams
pulled together my crazy quilt
made separate parts into a whole.

To jump and never land—
to breathe in but never out—
to fall asleep and never wake up...
The glass stillness of a pond,
its surface never disturbed—
peace without its pole:
Nothing.

There comes a time while writing
when it seems there is nothing else to write
the space
the white pixel, faux paper screen
the air around the headspace not thinking
the pulse of the heart in the chest always beating
the room and the chair and the desk and the lamp
all still and silent and awaiting the next song
so they can dance once again
one time only keep the moment full and blooming
or receding or detaching and attaching
and inflating or removing
it’s all the same
the beginning and the ending
and the half-life of the fullness
and overflowing of the emptiness
in all there is and all that there is not

Resurface
Reverb,
Renewal,
Revive—
Speak into Mother Earth
And our existence will thrive

May I be infected
with a sureness
of your love

May it spread within me
like an IV flowing confidence
in my okayness

In the face of fear
and desperation may
I be a cove of calm presence

May you be well
whole and robust
in every cell

In this time of solitude
may I encounter
the awesome power of now