Return to connection

Turn again to your mother’s *****
And risk vulnerability;
Courageous kindness in a world of disconnection.

Wild & Desperate

Most of life is spent curled;
Caught in the wild and desperate places,
Straddling between two worlds;
Satisfied and striving, for more space,
The here-and-now and the not-yet-inspired.
Being enough and constantly unlaced.

I pick up
My tambourine again
Drumming, I usurp
The inky black depression while reminiscing.
Let praise erupt and interrupt
The drone of zombie life.

Can I go one day without doubting?!
One day without posting?
One day without coffee?
One day...
BUT
I will not go one day without seeking,
One day without praising,
One day without
YOU

Restraining

There's something
paradoxical
about restraining,
saying no,
when everything in you
wants to say yes,
everything in you wants
to go get,
everything in you wants
to consume
And then you pause and
wait
And it passes.
Is that the power of restraint?

Power of Remembering

A brisk pace

Walking to work,
I was struck, with the memory:
the time when I could not walk...
After a stroke, during brain surgery, and a 40-day coma…
My step indeed picked up to a brisk pace,
and a smile came upon my face.


Thankful.

Loved

I am…..




                                                     …LOVED.

He hears

Whenever I am lonely,
I cry out to  you.

Feast of praise

Hunt me, keep me!
Fleece my nervousness.
Cease my incessant adversaries,
That I might feast on the praise for
YOU.

A coming storm

We sense it first in unspoken
atmosphere; the insects hear it's
silent roar.
Then it breaks; the lightning
Followed by gusty wind, dust soars.
Hell loosened by our desires woken?
Or God just reminding us of who's in control?

Sabbath Rest

An oasis in the wilderness.

Wilderness seasons

There was a time,
Not too long ago,
When I was lost;
No roots, no fruit,
Wandering and shallow.
Further along, I acknowledge,
The riches taught
During that wilderness season:
Plant myself wisely,
And let true wisdom mellow.

Rejection

God of all motion
Show me how you're transforming anger
And let me take control

Sacrifice with shouts of joy

There's not
Really
much
that I need.
Sure,
There's
PLENTY
I want
BUT
Need…
I need love.
.
.
.
I want love.
But isn't love
The very act of sacrifice?

Welcoming Mourning

It is quiet because it is morn.
I don't like to look in the mirror
Because of what I see:
I look into death’s eyes
And see my reflection.
I see the death of hopes and dreams
And loved ones, I mourn,
Constantly.

Token:
“Love your enemies!”
Until the Spirit has awoken,
Life without the invisible strings, keeping us latched to disasters
But peace is spoken.

From nowhere...
I started singing:
"calling you forever..."
and in my spirit, I heard the reply...
"I've been calling you forever!"

God is love. 
God created man and woman to love one another, 
You and I have a choice,
But we live in a fallen world, where your choice might not align with God's will, but He still loves us.
God calls us to love one another as He has loved us
We are to unite, not divide. 
To love, not to hate. 
To encourage, not discourage. 
To help those less fortunate than oneself. 
To give hope to those who need it
To pray at all times. 
God is sovereign, but he uses us to be His hands and feet...
I am not the healer, God is, but I can be a vessel for His healing love here on earth through relationships
...
And through poetry?!

I am waiting for slumber to keep
and surrender to the deep,
but only aches do conquer,
claiming victory over my saunter.

I love Sunday for its quietness,
I love Sundays, for there is no rush.
I love Sundays for writing poetry.
I love Sundays for the hush.
I love Sundays for the calm before the storm.
I love Sundays because my mind reboots to the norm.
I love Sundays because I can take my soul for a walk,
And let it roam across heavenly realms.
I love Sundays to be without an agenda that I have to chalk.
I love Sundays, to remember.
I love Sundays, and that's where I will be,
Loving You more without animosity.

No more doubt.
No more unhealthy fear.
Shrink back shadows,
You are not welcome in my life.

No more shame.
No more people pleasing.
I shine a light on the truth,
That my future is bright.

No more playing small.
No more self-sabotage.
I stand again,
I will enlarge.

I will seek you for truth.
I will quieten the taunts.
I will stop the tremmers,
And breathe again.

I will receive my fortunes.
I will rejoice in my success.
I will reclaim lost ground,
I will rest.

Denial will not bring freedom,
Acceptance will.
Not for anyone else,
But You.
Walking in the light,
Will bring freedom!

How do we miss our call?
What's distracting us today from hearing and trusting at all?

To silence the chatter in one's head, one needs to watch it, listen to it, discern it, and master the response.

We all want to be seen and heard, but too many of us don't. As we chase that desire for attention, we forget and miss the need to see someone else.

Busyness has become the currency of this day. "Are you as busy as I?', screams our social media posts. We yearn to be valued and significant to someone else. So much so that we will devalue ourselves and gain our desired attention.

Does that sound familiar?

Of course, others don't have that same craving. But they have other cravings. I think it was St Augustine who said we have a heart-shaped hole/wound within; aching to be filled. And in our haste and uncomfortableness to sit with that ache, we stuff it, numb it, ignore it with stuff that distracts the call to seek our maker. 

But what we need is to accept God's love. Not the duties. Not the need to 'be good' but the call to be loved.

I hesitated,
That's my sin.
I should have gone forward
Not back to where we begin.

I hesitated, 
And that's annoying.
As I could be bombastic
Yeah, that'd be more gratifying.

We become blind when we cease
To see, the extraordinary within you and me.

We blame and name and attempt to tame
Others to be the same, for peace?

Open your eyes anew, please!
And open your hands trustingly.

How quickly we’ve been brought down,
On bended knees, crying please,
Stop the disease, we’ll take off the crown,
To our lives; listening to lies, mantras of self-help tease,
Hope beyond now. Clear the mental fog and refocus.

It was pitch black
as I walked this morning.
The earth is turning.
All anxieties that flee
In the light,
That couldn't be cracked
In the black loom large.
Until almost home.

Knowledge only takes you so far;
Authenticity reveals your complexity,
Humility accepts your vulnerability,
Surrendering accepts the hand of the one
that is all things: knowledgeable, authentic, humble,
and submitted to the ultimate power in the universe.

I AM making all things new!
Even you: this is so true.
Open up and lift your eyes to see,
The savanna stretched out before thee.
New paths to trek, destinations big and small,
Bring out the globe, give it a twirl,
place your finger down, and embrace wide all.

I want to live my best life;
Getting back up, after I fall.
Forgiving myself, after I fail.
Laughing, when I make mistakes.
Being patient, when things take time to re-learn.
Because I have time;
To fall, fail, learn and get back up again.
I have time to live my best life,
Every day.

Speak Lord, I'm listening,
lavish me with your jewels:
Grace, gentleness and patience
Are like ravishing red rubies and pearls,
Their wellspring is forever refreshing.

Inside, I’m screaming out, “look at me!”
“Notice me!”
Too, long, too long,
I’ve neglected to see me because I was lost, looking over at others.
Such wasted years, such waste to fears, discouragement in my ears, the many times, I’ve wiped those tears
Stained eyes, they were closed for a period of many, many days, to get new sight, and
To hear the truth within; “darling, I see you; you are my beloved.”
Deep senses quieten, even though tremmers still pulse,
Claiming life within thriving for expression.
I can’t stop; I allow you to be seen, heard, criticised, discarded...celebrated, yes, honoured, revelled, desired, loved.
Because that’s who you are, who you’ve always been, when you were off, waiting to be seen.
But now I am here, and now I begin again,
New steps, new paths; enjoy, embrace joy!

We are but a speck of dust,
Gold and valuable, but
Small and crushable.
Worthy of all love, and yet
Wounded we live, held.

What happens after
success; the things you've
been hoping for,
working towards,
what happens then?

Daily, I work so hard
To be straight,
Perfect.
To need not.
But daily, I am reminded
Of how crooked I am;
Abundantly needy.

The clouds look old today, grey and sagging.
They hang lifeless, bringing everything down with them.
I shiver, not with potential, but with bitterness
About the bleak foreboding that looms.

The Burra boomed
Shattering stillness
And announcing
all ‘smart’ phones alarms are defunct.
Lights lit up  one-by-by one,
As the sleepy slumber was no more.
Daily grind begins
On setting 2.0 on
The bean machine.
Thrive or die:
the mantra for this world.

Gratitude
Is Goodness ****?
Noticing goose pimples, because
I think it’s the heart of noticing the Holy Spirit, attuned.
Resilience; overcoming the setbacks
in life and spinning them into gold dust.
Rejoicing in difficult times;
Fear, and expanding into ever-increasing wanderlust.
Faith;
Play like no one’s watching,
giving legs to the dreams you’ve been harbouring
in your heart
Persist and resist the shameful stares and unrealistic expectations; depart.
Start a new and see your dreams through.

This track is well-trodden,
But it does not serve you any more.
Be courageous,
Choose a new path;
Choose life.

Heavy thoughts, conflicting views,
Right and wrong, black and white
Chasm…
Transformation comes as we allow faith to catch us, hold us, love us,
In the gap of not knowing.
But knowing the one who knows us: loves us, breathed into us.
Exhale!

Does it really matter?
What I think or do?
Does it really matter?
How carelessly I treat you?

Flick a fly, squash insects, 
Pull roots from a tree.
Take drugs, steal, ****
Does any of this matter to you or me?

Wipe the sleep from our eyes,
Stir our conscience,
Remember why we’re here!
Being present to bring presence.

Today matters.
What we say and do,
Leaves an imprint far greater 
Than virtuality: current reality, thinks is true.

I laugh at myself,
Do you?

I will sometimes spontaneously, spill out with song,
The tunes may not make sense, but does that make them wrong?

I will sometimes water the garden in my underwear,
And yes, dance around free, with no care.

These moments are sparse and are to be treasured.
They are the glimmers of life when feeling haggard and weathered.

I have come to the place where I laugh at myself,
Can you?

I am embracing my imperfect body, crazy curls and awkward twirls of a nobody, a somebody…

Everybody….

Now, that's something true.

La La La la.

Mid-sentence: this story can go either way,
Doom and gloom, or full of joy.
Hold your nerve, believe in happy endings,
There’s a bigger story; written from a far but lived out day-to-day.

The *** sat smouldering on the bench,
It was cold and quiet.
If I didn’t touch it,
If I avoided it,
If I pretended it did not exist,
Then I could continue on by?
Then I would fine?
But, in that *** lay the source of my potential.
Something I over looked.
Something that I dismissed out of fear,
Out of disgust?
Something that I didn’t value.
But, when I gave breath to anger,
The coals lit up.
They glistened like a temptress;
Ready for a night on the prowl.
She got her opportunity to rise,
Steel capped boots on,
Cat of ‘nine tails’ in hand.
She went on a rampage with righteousness rage.
No one could hide.
And when she stopped,
Nothing was left in her path,
Only desolation.
Hope seemed lost,
But a new life came.
Light broke through the darkness, and
Quietness and solitude satisfied.

We’re okay,
We’re alright.
Just hold on,
I don't want to fight.
Okay, alright,
I don't want to lose you
with all this might.
We’re okay,
We’re alright.
Hold on, don't lose sight
Of what we’ve had.
Its gonna be...
Okay and alright.

I put a banana in my coat pocket
This morn, in haste, while jobing.
Forgot, did I, until this arvo,
The smell o’er ripe left me throbbing.

Insects sing their lullaby,
drawing you into night's cry;
It seems harmless from afar,
But in the thick, no skin's w'out mark.

As a rule of thumb,
Read things twice.

Lord, I'm not perfect.
And I mix things up.
And I'm so grateful.
That you've got my back when all goes ******.

But there's more to the story;
You forgive me. You shape me.
You resolve my head of worry.
You've got my back when I f#@k it up.

Is this a love song?
Or a declaration?
I think it's a reminder!
I'm not the only one.

Perspective: I am an ant.
And you are the Son.
You are the one I seek.
In the morning, you are my rising sun.

Lord, I'm not perfect.
I go round and round in circles,
and when things erupt
I hide and nonchalantly pray: miracles.

Lord, I'm not perfect.
And I f#@k things up.

Sorry **