End of the Rainbow

I catch the doubled rainbow in my mystic cross palm

and

flinging prisms back at you -- entwined, the couplets arc and rhyme

lending honey-suckled hues to Time --

nectar blending.

I wait inside the curve of interstellar me,

interlaced fingertips

templed in prayer

pulsing inside soul cupped beats,

goblets of gold.

Sunday in the Park

It wasn't the refrigerator cold tupperware box of freshly sliced cucumbers or the napkins sailing like miniature paper kites in the breeze that made Sunday at the baseball field crisp and fresh; instead,it was the sheaves of fairy feathered lashes flashing laughter over blue and hazel, and green and brown -- eyes of God winking through the open skies of grandchildren -- mana from heaven.

D-I-V-O-R-C-E

Yesterday the dual birthday party was disastrous fun. Batteries did not come with a truck for one and a memory stick was needed for the camera of another, but both siblings had immediate gratification from ice cream cake, pizza, and family; giggles and happy shrieks of friends added to the flavor of the day at the blowing out of candles -- a safely familiar touchstone time for children living their new normal inside the turbulence of divorce.

Today is both the same and a completely a different Monday for the stepping stair four: The three girls wriggled out of beds, brushed teeth and hair, snuggled into clothes while eating breakfast and flew to the school bus, after kissing their little brother and their Dad goodbye....then Daddy left the house so Mommy could go back to the house until Tuesday when Daddy comes back again -- until Wednesday until Mommy comes back until Friday when Daddy comes back until next Monday when Mommy comes back...until....

So next weekend for our son and grandkids is Hannah Montana weekend. With our family circling around them, we will try to help the smiles go further than skin deep. "Suffer the little children...for such is the kingdom of heaven."

A House Divided

Every spring there are these fresh, hyacinth-tipped days, always beckoning me forward toward joy -- anticipated delights -- like the sounds of a million winter-hard hibernations awakening with delighted yawns and laughing trills, or of energies breaking free in bursts of color waiting to dazzle --of Life yearning to Be.
I know those things are outside -- outside right this very second within the yellow sun-slant of the afternoon and the boisterously happy barking of the dog. She tracks birth-prints with oxymoronic serious abandon -- innocent in her hapless hunting.
But I am still tired, a stretched thin tired. I saw the nest you see and I thought, oh, well...it will pass...I should not make too much of it. I am probably being too harsh. It was a stupid mistake, but I was tired;last year was hard and the winter long and barren. And of course, there's the part about peace and not being judgmental. Sad justifications all: Now the snake is loose and its plots are hatched, and for people I love...there will be hell to pay. Spring will have to wait.

Transition

The crackly switches and piles of wintered brown round my yard scatter into jigsaw puzzled heaps,break into haphazard flight with the wind and tumble down as birch and elm and maple pick-up-sticks -- finding rest at the lake -- caught inside the participled now. The ice thaws and my earth swells;little sprigs of spring wink green. God winks back: Time to paint.

Saturday, the Wait of Time

This day before Easter Sunday is waning. There was a buzz about its meaning in the blogosphere today. I think it's fair to say the upshot is that these hours, this life of mankind measured in years and months and days, was changed in one last breath after Jesus said "It is finished." And then the waiting, the Saturday of mankind began. Always drawn toward the morning star, we stumble and search for sight to find our way out of the collective darkness.

Tomorrow with the Light once again there will be a rising and inside all creation there will be joyous noise from bird and bee and man for the fulfillment of the great I AM, and the great I AM THAT, and the great I AM THAT I AM -- the Alpha and the Omega --death and the weight of Time defeated, trinity complete and eternal love offered by the Son. It's gonna' be a good day.

Divine Discontent

Yesterday somebody got me to thinking about divine discontent. He was in favor of it. I hear caution bells. Discerning the difference between the personality's desire and one's spiritual desire is a Solomonaic task I believe, one requiring much soul searching and prayer. It is easier to act impulsively with a rush of good emotion; that often times ends up with the unintended consequence of having a large ego blast as a hangover!

If one is to get mobilized to action or fired up for some cause, it seems to me that the script of the drama ought to be a spiritual one -- not to be confused with a psychologically/politically correct Morals play that has one cast as saving the world: Christ already did that.

Action prompted by spiritual drive is not worldly, by definition. The result most assuredly would reverberate in the world, but the originating idea put into action... ahh...there's the rub: Judas got that mixed up...and he was not alone. A good many well meaning Jews thought Jesus came to be their physical king so that their lives and the worldly kingdom would change. Not so.
Our egocentric selves feel grand and holy when we are part of a great cause, a drama for the world... giving money or time to a poverty stricken tribe overseas for example. Not that that is a wrong use of casting our bread on the waters, but why is it harder to put our hands out in friendship with a burger to the hungry person loitering at the dumpster 'round midnight at McDonald's? That kind of act would be facing the poor up close and personal in all the gritty reality, stripped of any attendant glamor. It could be scary AND nobody would see you. Nobody would know except that one lost sheep and ...of course, the Good Shepherd.

How many times a day do we have chances to sing in harmony with our divine purpose and we don't hear the notes because ...well, because maybe they don't seem quite grand enough?

I think we should question our own motives about so much emphasis on the big picture until the little picture is tenderly nurtured... That focus could be a major rationalization. What is the saying? "Bloom where you are planted." God planted me here in this nation that does still have problems -- in this state that does still have problems -- in this town that does still have problems -- in this family that does still have problems...inside this "me" that does still have problems!

Divine discontent ends when one accepts that Christ is the way and that He lives in you. You are no longer disconnected from your source or your god ... because of His grace, because of Calvary.

I wonder if a motivational speaker urging worldly action is feeling his/her own need for spiritual maturation deeply enough to mistake the personal desire with a spiritual calling...and then attempt to urge others to save-the-physical-world.....perhaps there is some vicarious need being filled. Perhaps that speaker is the one who needs to act instead of preaching action ... I don't really know...Just wondering if perhaps at the crux of the matter is that the cross tends to urge all of us to shift roles as our understanding deepens and/or our comfort level gets a tad too comfortable. Might be worth thinking about...