Forged by Love

Steel is formed in the heat of the flame.
But am I made of softer things than this?
Of gold perhaps, easily melted and adorned.

The heat of pain to strengthen or melt away the mettle!

What greater forging of beings there be – than Love?
Let me run straight at it – eyes set ablaze with courage,
And melt or stand in strength within the fray.

Heaven Downed

There is a mastery that heaven downed
Layered beneath these dusty sheathes of skin
And only in the mind can it be found!

Unrighteousness as if it did abound
As though the veil torn yet still be thin
That is a mastery that heaven downed!

Yet some say lost is lost until it’s found
I say there can be no such thing as sin
For only in the mind can it be found!

Our judgments spurn us as they flip around
Each razors back and cuts deep with its spin
Yet we can master this that heaven downed!

You are your Thoughts so use them to astound
Then watch as Love makes better ways for men
But first it’s in the mind THIS MUST BE FOUND!

Or watch us die by every thorn we’ve crowned
‘Cause what is out first starts with what’s within
And this the mastery that heaven downed
Will be our fate if in our minds not found!

A Smokeless Rage

So it was I ran on that day – full on and hard,
Leaving behind me in my path all thoughts of sickness,
And every one who spoke to me of lack and lovelessness!
What time do I have to lend my ear to fools?
They speak away their power like smoke
That chokes and churns their vision to ash.
Crushing desire as though they be meek
By their smallness and then made big.
I have no time for dying embers such as these!
I will not go out a smoldering flame.
I will burn hot and smokeless in a rage,
And everything that is mine I will consume!

My Father and I

He didn’t see me when he came
Stepping across the blacktop pushing
His walker with quick careful steps
I watched him many times this way
From high atop my ivory tower
Collecting his water and his beer
It was the job we gave him – to keep him young
We didn’t ask much more of him than this
Yet he gave far more than we ever knew
A selfless sacrifice of sorts
The pain of which he covered with drink
And some begrudged him of it – yet I often
Wondered, what did he owe us?
Who was this man who we called father
Whose heart fought a battle every day
Who made a hero of that which quenched his fear
Making scared men brave and silent men boisterous
And who was it who was selfish really?
We wanted it to be him – the one who drowned himself daily
In his golden glass with chinks of ice and yellow courage
His only faithful friend, Lord Calvert and
Me watching from my window seeing anew
Behind my judgment – his pain
Mere flesh and bone and blood
Memories and life and heartache – the hammering
Of unkindness and calloused unlovingness
With no place for unconditional Love to swell and rise
Or flow or Be – who could we have been had we not hidden
Ourselves away like we needed to be protected by our Lords
Nestled in our husks and made to tremble instead of grow
With a gasp and a quiver – it hit me like a jolt
It was me that I watched – that I judged
Pushing down my pain with words instead of whisky
Wanting Love as I hid behind my ego and my anger claiming I
Was a better one than he – though same we Be
Together we watched and pushed and drank and wrote
And felt unloved, unworthy, unaccepted — until
We disappeared behind the gate with a clink of the latch
And tears streamed as Love found us there – My Father and I

Family

We were as stones gathered in a palm
Held tight and close, in the dark
Clinking together – rubbing each other smooth
Until – With one quick flick of the wrist
We were cast far and wide
With no way of returning one to the other

A Great and Terrible Tumult!

~~ I have turned from a great and terrible tumult
which I gathered for myself with savage strength
until it turned and devoured me!
***

Denying the pain only caused it to gnaw upon my guts
That biting and tearing and ripping away was a Death
I chose it over sorrow, until I finally broke down and cried
And all those angry teeth let loose my bowels

It was the beginning of Living – that – Letting Go
The surrender of things held fast beyond their time

Now – ten pounds later, in my withered frame
My skin hanging as though on a line
I shut out the echoes of yesterday
Knowing, if I don’t – I will die there in that past

The Fire

 

I won’t talk about the fire
when I’m in it
rage, inferno
you. won’t. burn. Me.

I don’t focus on the fire
all consuming
to dust I turn
don’t. think. Me. dead.

I cannot run from the fire
steel is forged here
sharp, steady, blade
you. can’t. wield. Me.

 

Birth of Creation

I found You in sleep
Because in waking hours
I could not perceive You

And there We created the music
Of My life from every thought
I chose to dwell on in the day

And upon waking I found
My life to be either a beautiful
Symphony or a disjointed cacophony

Disquieted Mind

 

Oh how dangerous is the disquieted mind!

It does not know the extent of its own folly

Nor that its creations are all lies

It peddles its poison to those who do not keep a guarded heart

As it pulls and pulls until the last thread of Love has been unraveled

Then sits as though a king upon those loveless ruins!