All posts tagged: Poetry

The Gift of Silence

comments 10
Poetry

We can’t be happy, Hafiz says, until we discover we’re not who we think we are. Then he leans near, whispers… So… how are we going to pull that off? I think he’s going somewhere with this. I can’t help myself: I’m grinning like the operator of a prison search light who’s secretly pulling for the inmates to escape and run riot, waiting for my Friend’s next words to bust through the cell block wall and stride […]

Scrubbing Smiles

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Poetry

The instruction to just be myself resulted in a pretty meandering to-and-fro up-over-and-down there and back again maybe, but maybe not, should I educate myself better or get a few more life skills first type of thing until one day when I was brushing my teeth I came to a scrunchy halt, arm cocked like a frozen piston, and I looked into the silvered plate hung on the wall, the one framed by garishly bright […]

Call Center

comments 15
Poetry

One night when Hafiz was working the phones, a call came in. The man began by announcing that he had a few questions, as if he were preparing his counter party for a barrage of heavy artillery. The way he said it made it sound like he had a few answers, too. Look, he said, you can’t really know if there is anything beyond this life or not, but consider: if there isn’t a God, […]

Night Breezes

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Poetry

Night breezes tickle the chimes we hung, then rise through the leaves above, rinsing away the day’s hours, then rise to graze upon the earthen rays streaming from the crowns of trees, then rise to gather in counsel inside a vast cocoon of starlight. Underground, the bees are sleeping, their dreams sparking along the synapses of flower roots. Tomorrow they will harvest the nectar, discovering the return of all that was given. Life is neither […]

Volunteering

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Poetry

None of us really knows what kind of stunt Creation is going to pull next. The thing to do is avoid being reactionary. If you like to fly, for instance, put on your leather aviator’s helmet, your trusted goggles, and a long, flowing white scarf. Then sneak into the Situation Room and thrust up your hand to volunteer. Don’t worry, They’ll know for what.

Kindness

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Poetry

There’s a kindness that isn’t about doing the right thing, or being good. It’s not about holding the door open for a stranger to be polite, or even nice. There’s a kindness that’s about upping the ante and challenging the status quo, about asking the kind of question that provokes a crisp rebuke from your inner skeptic, that elicits a little wait and see because here comes another sweet dose of I told you so– […]

Half Time Talk

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Christ / Poetry

However you came to this point, however you made contact with your inner geometry, whatever brought you to the point of finally placing all your stock into who you are, into that infinitesimal droplet of radiance lurking in your chest of which you’ve but caught fleeting glimpses, not yet even knowing what they might be, it doesn’t really matter. You’re here. Let’s leave it at that. However you came to this point, all we can […]

Smuggling

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Christ / Poetry

Like that movie where the “bad guys” cast cocaine into the shape of statues and beautiful figurines so it could be hidden right out in the open, so the Beloved has smuggled Herself into this world. She is all around us, in plain sight, frozen into the shapes of all those hot-eyed, over-blown, sweaty, market-gaming, child-loving, war-fighting, family-valued, finger-pointing, smarter-than, smiling-laughing, loving, drop-kicking, device-wielding, stressed-out costumed beings who can’t quite figure out how the hell […]

The Tides of Love

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Poetry

If you make a plot of human population over the past few thousand years, the results are– well listen, let’s speak plainly here, as friends who have not the time for posturing or taking offense: the results are startling. If you are inclined towards levity you may even have a chuckle as you gape at the steeply rising curve and reflect upon the multiplicative industriousness of the recent age. Experts in prognostication and the statistical arts such as […]

A Real Stickler

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Poetry

“The way will be muddy and seemingly alone, even when you find yourself in crowds, even when all the refugees are funneled together through a narrow pass. You will find yourself trying to avoid being crushed, trying to avoid being left behind, trying to avoid being starved, trying to avoid being plundered. You may dream of blue skies and sunlight, but your path will wind beneath overcast skies and sprinkling rain. You may dream of virgin […]