Friday, January 8, 2010

Bone And Dust

Here are the edges. All the rest is filler. Here is the cross. Here is the viewpoint of all the rest, in the center of the cross.

Bone And Dust

The cross of life, deep
and true, birth begins and death
ends, crossed by lovers
and adoration
of the heart of god reaching
beyond sense and sight,
the fourfold nature,
the edges of our journey,
it is here I watch
you crumble to bits
of bone and dust, you having
gone ahead of me.

March 17, 2009 7:41 AM


  1. hmmmm, bone and dust.
    Tomorrow i promise to post a picture of bones, one part of the cycle of life i guess.
    And i do hope everyone's and everything's cycle indeed is crossed by lots of lovers an adoration.

  2. Here's something I wrote a couple of months ago, thinking as you of mortality. I called it:

    Ashes and Bone

    When I am gone,
    Put me to the fire;
    Ashes and bone
    Are all that I desire
    Be left of me.

    Let me have
    Fair wind to sift me
    Through the trees;
    Grey amidst the green
    Is what I long to be.

    Find me in the field,
    A rustle of the grass,
    Or hollow in the hills;
    Beside the garden path,
    I’ll sing among the reeds.

    Put me to the fire,
    Share me with the day;
    Let my spark inspire
    New green among the grey
    From all that’s left of me.

  3. Jozien, it is a generous thought, to hope for us all many experiences along one beam of the cross of life.

  4. Karen, did you post this one? I don't remember it. I love Ashes and Bone for form and thought and for truth. I can't say how wonderful this is that my blog reaches the quality it does not only by my own hand, but by the willing participation of my friends.

    Not only does this format reach the world, it also reaches toward heaven.

    When I started blogging it was by discovering a community that focussed around a particular blogger and his vision. He had hold of a thing, had written a book, and his people were independent, smart, and all were creative. I thought that was amazing. His vision was not mine though it was close by in amazing ways. His community was not mine, though there were overlaps. I finally decided to begin posting my own blog, once I had decided on a practice and presence of my own, where I would write or post poetry in the comments of blogs I visited, just as you have done here.

    This experience is incredibly rich. I thank you for your place in it. We give to each other here a remarkable gift matched elsewhere in my life only by direct intimate encounter among dear friends. I feel extraordinarily connected along the heartlines of life.

    You are most certainly welcome here.


The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.

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