assorted poems and considerations


            copper-red

 

I see your shining smiling face. All sun freckled-up. That crinkle on your nose. Locks burnt-copper-red in the sun. Your hello eyes sparkled-out to me and stirred me completely. As I drew closer I came to know, that beauty within, had just been shining through the skin-of you. You saw me’ in me, and I am forever grateful. As we combined you lifted my spirit and reawakened my soul. Sacrificing yourself so that I might stand upon your tall shoulders and see unknown heights. Some even, that of which, were not seeable from underneath, whilst holding me up. You breathed my life back into me. You taught me the depths of sacrifice, of which I myself have glimpsed in you, yet myself not-yet even capable. The swimming beauty of your grace, canoeing through the living waters, showing me how to drink. An unpayable debt, of which was not levied, but instead gladly given. You taught me depths of giving, of which I have felt but not equaled of your purity. Your living song draws in upon it, vibrating the tuning-forks of those it contacts. Your friends are the high ones who dance upon the mountaintops. You bring with you an army of good. You are goodness dressed in a coat of many colors. You chemistried my heart, and humbled my spirit. We have combined in the spirit realms and held-igniting in physical life. You echo through the deep interiors of me. 

 

 

 

            In pondering the existence of G-d

 

There is a thought process which I went through once when pondering the existence of G-d. If G-d exists, then there is no G-d above Him, which He can turn to for advice, or which He fears and so does the right things, because someone is over Him and is watching Him in judgement. So, G-d is good, solely for His own choice to be so, and holy, and creative, and so on and so forth.

We, created in His image, have a great opportunity to act the same. For regardless of the answer to the question pondered above, and even more so if G-d did not exist, if we were to live our lives in the highest ideals imagined in our imaginations, to be G-d like in holiness, beauty, creativity and purity for our sole meet of fleeting life, only because we choose to be so, then we make tiny G-d imitated in-likenesses of ourselves. Not an ego trip, but humble in our choice and proud of our moment of life. How much more beautiful are we who if only for a fleeting lifetime, with if no created purpose fashioned for us, choose to act in our highest imagination of perfection.

And so the answer comes out the same either way, the choice is for me the same, and so ends the necessity for endless turmoil on what do we want to be. The choice, as always, is yours. 

 

 

 

            The waves said good-morning 

 

The waves said good-morning in their language as they beckon upon the shore at sun rise.

The breeze swiped my face and shoulders in its loving touch.

Like a new mother feeds and comforts her baby, she speaks a language her baby will understand.

Slowly she will bring her child to learn her language.

The language of the universe is doing the same.

I always wonder why it just doesn’t speak to me. 

Then it insights in my soul …I do.

The universe seems to speak some ancient language to which I forgot to listen.

I was shown how-to live, and set afloat to my free will.

G-d stepped back to allow me my free space.

Whatever I do not understand is held suspended by His ancient wisdom beyond compare. 

Surely He knows what He is doing. 

Do I?

Should I attempt to measure the Hand that painted the sun rise in the heavens?

Should I second guess the Artist who sculpts the universe?

Whose belly of ocean rolls with rippled waves of laughter.

Whose children play on planet earth, enjoying nature as they run across the beach having so much fun.

Who created life in such-goodness, that we tremble at the thought of one day not having it.

He is so confident that He has it all done right, that HE sits in silence in a smile while we question everything.

And instead asks, “What will you’ do today?” 

 

 

            The broken vessel

 

            The broken vessel was shattered from its trials. Yet the innate glue of its inner substance, still held together its standing form, and its innate structure, in pieces, floating in their place, by the force of its true inner being. We should listen. The wisdom gained by breaking, yet seeing what holds together the broken pieces, is immeasurable. With essence, love, pain, work, and will, then fusing the broken pieces, into a stronger vessel than even the original vessel.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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