Love in Ten Lines

when love broke me
wide open with love
I surrendered my love
to you, my Love.

Your eyes, limpid love
your heart red, Love
your touch, I love
that frisson, love-chills

in my love struck
love torn red heart.

“I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.”
Pablo Neruda, 100 Love Sonnetstumblr_nl7a0nykH01u19ezpo1_400


This Peculiar Gleaming Beauty

Events leading up to the cross,
they seem like something of a game
of push and shove or pull and push
in this cult of honor/shame
and I wonder and I ask

Does anything really stand a chance
here in this fatal tug of war?

And what about Him?  Jesus?
Clearly shamed 
and shamed profoundly,
publicly rejected and abandoned,
clothed in stark humiliation,
torn by jaws of victimization…

and willingly choosing
this broken ground

(this broken me).

What kinship does He speak of,
what kingship does He claim 
He dons my crown of thorns

and He takes my purple robe
and He lets Himself be branded

with my fetid Scarlet A?

What shame and ridicule
does He siphon
from our darkling hearts?

We are such a clouded vision
jockeying and jostling
for power and position,
trembling in our lust
for quick liberated feet.

We have occluded vision
caught between the blind that see
and priests and prefects that do not.

And then there is that copper matter
of His blood spilled shamefully and
His death sprawling shamelessly
across the breadth of history,
a kingly shepherd dying here
His life laid down so lovingly,
a risen savior reigning there…

At the intersection
of honor and of shame
can you see?
That Shining Ever Moment?

That Peculiar Gleaming Beauty?

It towers there, quiet, unobtrusive
and starkly interrupting
That Abandoned Empty Cross…

The sight that says it all.tumblr_nlczuq7G441tx7szbo1_1280

Quest or Invitation

A difficult quest.
Or is it invitation?
I guess it depends
on the mood
or the moment.

Deliberate.  Wearisome.tumblr_lynlllXXX21qb38x9o1_500The journey
of a christ with a cross,
and such a crushing burden we bear
when we try to decide if we will wear
it or witness it.

Either way (mood or moment)
we have to decide what we will do
in light of such a spectacle.

And some choose fasting,
and some kiss the dirt
and some just run the other way.

Hell, even that cross-carrier had to choose
which journey and whether
it was mood or moment.

It matters because one
leads to the human heart and one
leads to the heart of God
and each path must be travelled
but in its own good time.

Each day we must decide this,
we choose this, or if not
then we are chosen casually
by mood or moment,
by quest or invitation

and it all comes out
in the wash, if we have
gained our life
or lost it.tumblr_nldhi5rJoU1r7l28fo3_1280


Naked Emperor

When I exploded into myself
from nothing

and knew
there was 


I heard something
wish that me 
would never be.

I didn’t get over it,
but I got used to it.

that wish 
got its way
in my bones
and now it seems
like all I know

and all that I
am known by.

Sounds, scents, storms sent
from that beyond

rail and wash
in curtains 
over me,
scour and scrub me

because maybe,
just maybe

I can one day
be released

from the curse 
“shouldn’t have been”

and see
that self invisible

that everyone else
says is there

but just looks like
a naked emperor 

to me.tumblr_nldhi5rJoU1r7l28fo5_1280