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Make me Silent, that I may eloquently converse with Thee.

I wandered through forests of incessant searchings, and arrived at the mystery door of Thy presence. On the doors of silence I knocked loudly with my persistent blows of faith, and the doors of space opened. There, on the altar of glorious visions, I beheld Thee, resting.

I stood, with restless eyes, waiting for Thee to speak. I heard not Thy creation-making voice. At last the spell of stillness stole upon me, and in whispers taught me the language of angels. With the lisping voice of new-born freedom, I tried to speak, and the lights of Thy temple assumed sudden brilliancy and wrote letters of light.

In my little chamber of quietness, I am always resting: I never speak but with the voice of my silence. Through my silence, eloquently converse with me.

From: Whispers from Eternity
A Book of Answered Prayers
1949 Edition
ordained Nov 2017
it's embarrassing but it's true.
i just googled "how to fall in love".
and i googled "how to fall in love" because i am not in love right now and i really, really want to be.
my google searchings were inconclusive and i am just as unsatisfied
mind, body, and spirit
as i was when i started typing "h" into the search bar
there is nothing in my heart right now.
my mother knocked and no one was home.
it makes me anxious:
how did i go from someone so overwhelmed by the enormity and ever-presence of her emotions
to someone so void of them that i feel an echo in my chest when someone says my name?
i've also googled sociopathy,
but apparently i'm not one of those.
so here i am, somewhere on a sliding scale
between all or nothing.
and i report from the field that it is not, in fact, all or nothing.
i know i'm not alone out here,
but it sure does feel like it,
when i reach out and even shadows don't reach back.
it's not like i've already accepted dying alone but it's not looking likely that i'll be marrying my college sweetheart, either.
i just want my feelings back.
is there a link to that in the first page of google results?
i'll even pay for shipping, i guess.
well
Micah Ziegler Jul 2015
I Am
It is a name of infinite complexity
And just as infinite simplicity
A name filled with infinite passion
And infinite infinity
I am the alpha and the omega
The beginning and the end
Nothing starts or ends without my presence
No door I close may be opened
And no door I open may be shut
I spoke the first words into existence
And I hold the last word without resistance
I am God in Trinity
Adonai explicitly
Elohim eternally
I am Jehovah Nissi
As a pillar of fire
My light will lead you forward through the darkness
And if you rally behind me
Your life will never expire
For I am Jehovah Tsidkenu
And by my blood you have been made pure
By my sacrifice you have been saved
And by my grace your sin has been cured
For I am Jehovah Rafah
And I am Jehovah Jireh
I will clothe you in more splendor than the lilies
At my command the birds will bring you food and life will spring from your dry bones
And I will be the provision of a strength that surpasses Achilles
I am El Roi
I see the wanderings of your heart and the searchings of your soul
I have known your darkness and I have given you light and joy
I am Jehovah Shammah
I have walked with you and shown you my wonders
And I have carried you when the world beneath you shudders
I will be with you always
For I am past, present, and future
I am your savior, your messiah
I am your God
I Am
Raja Mar 2013
Sickening slime of men—who are you who hath cast the first stone?
Samson and Delilah—Did I ask that you cut your hair?
Nay, I asked for the briefest of moments that two held together
Against their breast, shared between twin ribcages and
Softly sleeping slumbering, tucked between the covers.
‘twere as if the man had left the moon and she
With her soul song’s sobbing, took up against the rising darkness
Wielding a terrible light in hand.  
As now, I am.

A great darkness this is, that she finds herself in.
And doubling doubts of mischief calling, the sun
Makes known his truest searchings—for that fair woman
Whom the night doth embrace in a starlit cloak of exorbitant splendor.
But coquettishly she shies away—for the sun shall never be the moon--
And the rays of light are all too revealing of the crevices and craters
That pick their ways across her surface like clouds peppering a perfect
Sunset.
Tamara Fraser Aug 2016
We found ourselves in
a sticky
sticky mess
didn’t we?

We can be so intimate,
because I hate making my walls
from already crumbled bricks and
clay of wilted loves,
the dredge and slurries of everything that went wrong
plasters together the insecurities I hide from,
to protect you from.

You didn’t even build the offence I expected,
to prompt my building, my construction and strategy and
internal combat.
I didn’t have to crouch at your feet,
long forgotten how to feel for myself.
So mastered at letting you take over my body,
make it move with you where you need it to be,
matching ecstasies and heartbeats
and sweat and moans,
feeling you aroused,
secretly wondering if I was made of stone.

It took one touch
to do it.
Just one hopeless exploration of two bodies,
for me to return to my shrivelled husk,
tearful and vulnerable and exposed for all the others,
tainted parcel, envelope turned inside out,
only wishing to be your absolute perfect,
in and out of bedsheets and
the expectations we see peeking out of the shade,
******* us and ruining us as we go.

But you make it seem all ok.
You make that one shadow in my past,
turn me into something else entirely.
It still bothers me, plays me, screws me over and over
until I break a little because it’s just to much trauma to overcome.
Being used for little night-time, quickened searchings,
finding out what people always want from me,
and what they are happy to leave behind them,
with me.

I’ve always known about emotions.
But I don’t think it’s ever been this easy to feel them.
To feel that rise and fall of a wave people keep ranting of.
Because of you, I get it now.
It makes me see stars and feel everything hit at once.

It’s always a start that ages before it’s time.
It’s always the nerves that settle under my skin,
bumps and bruises and dead hour wanderings,
waiting for the inevitable moment it all ends.
As soon as you like me, I start to panic.
I can’t sleep and eat waiting for that little rattle,
pop shake
of when you pick up the phone and make my panic real.

I can only believe you for a day.
I can only like you for for a day at a time.
I can only show you what I am for a day at a time under very
rational considerations.

To feed you until you want me no more.
You can scrunch up your eyes and turn to plead you would never,
but having been a lot of messed-up lovely things to a lot of people,
I know you are a human emotional puddle.
And they were all human too.

And all our time together
becomes a heartfelt plea,
the heavy, pressure-on-chest of hope
that no one ever warns you about,
of the dangers of letting yourself go
with them
that special person
feeling everything you strive so hard to suppress
given over to trickster hands and laughs
of those emotions you fear.

We don’t regret it.
Not at all.
But all our movements and affections are
dictated expiry dates,
and I hate it being about us needing
to consume as much of each other
before the time ticks over and
it’s all spoiled.

So this solidifies where I am,
where I am coming from,
when I curl up next to you.
This is my flagged position,
in this strategic push-pull, give-take, want-relinquish
games we desperately seek to play.
I’m always the loyal friend, crying when you close a door on me,
or leave me aside,
or throw me away for someone, something new.

So instead
for now,
I’m going to remind myself of all the things one day could be true.
And get a little lost in you,
because that’s all I can do.

It’s that or I’m going to have to watch you walk away,
and hope I feel this rollercoaster again.
CharlesC Mar 2017
See Spot Run..
This icon of our education
yes..of youth..but continuing..
The question might be asked:
Was our education ever other
than variations of Spot running..?
Sophistication arrived but
the strong belief of separation:
Spot..and ****..and Jane
remains.. seemingly implanted
unquestioned and permanently
in what we call our world..
Through the years
some have found discomfort
a hole at the center of
Spot's adventures..
A vague unsettling
blossoming on some days
to sharp fragmentary pain..
In our many searchings
for restoration and  fulfillment
might we in some momentary
clarity..see Spot not running
but dissolving into
the light of day...
Don Bouchard Nov 2016
We share these griefs
Nearly everywhere,
Waking or dozing,
Stopping mid-stride,
Standing, leaning in,
Vaguely unaware,  
Uneasy searchings leave us here
To pause uncertainly and stare.

These clouded griefs shade our days
With glooming care hold sway
Though years ago
Our one-time friends,
Choosing to be gone;
In self-volition flown.

Their grassy graves slowly sag,
Though our forgotten memories
Move still beneath the weight
Of these unanswered griefs.
What happens to a dream deferred? Langston Hughes asked.
What happens to a grief unanswered?
Mourning over Suicides
CharlesC Sep 2018
separation:
this is what most assume
perhaps or perhaps not
on lifelong journeys..

oneness:
the other assumption
seems to lie in potential
or in possibility
in all of our days..
the latter assumption
closes all gaps
or more truthfully:
discovers the gaps
never were..

all journeys
with their destinations
foreseen and promising
are many searchings
guided by the
first assumption..
apparently
these journeys continue
until..an ending...
jeffrey robin Mar 2015
may live                                                 !!
--
we may not be STRONG

(  )
(        )
(            )
/ ----\

                                                          ­  but we may be    GOOD
                                                      ­--
••

To live without FORGIVENESS

is to NOT LIVE

//                                      

I remember !

                                                             ( such images ! )

Of INNOCENCE !

Of SHARED SPLENDOR !

••

I shall COMPLETE THE JOURNEY !

( this I vow )

••                              

THE JOURNEY ---------------------------- Is to stay

Together

Always

//

( this we know )

I am so ashamed

Of myself


••

Look at my world !

••

in the fragile
The brittle

The broken

Fragmented dream !

We realize

The folly of our reasons

And searchings



The hurt faces

Of those we hurt

••

Okay

I ( even I ) have learned a LESSON well

••

A promise is a promise

LOVE is something you may give

It is not something of which // to tell
Duncan Brown Apr 2018
Quietly as that opening flower
Still and aesthetically unfolding
How are we to know of existence
Enveloped in nature's bower
Hidden from visions understanding
Or minds grasping searchings
Lest nature herself reveal
Secrets beyond our comprehension
Concealed in realms of vast dimension
In that most finite of spaces
The sacred chamber of colour
Shaped by mystic knowledge
Of some vast unknowable
The mystery of creation eludes us
Perhaps as nature intended
Until we find true ourselves
Less selfishly complicated.

— The End —