Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Life Work, What You Wrote - Reprise

I am bringing this whole post forward because all of it works together in ways I cannot separate.


Life is not fair. This grinds me to dust. My whole thing is finding a way to deal with this, that I do not flame out, tumble in the chaos, crash my own life. When I get a moment then I play. Much of what I do seems inane but my work is inner work. I need to pace this race and so I do.

When I looked for the spiritual walk that I could do in this unfair life, I had to find a place that was not my fault. I could not live in a faith that starts with it being my fault. I will self destruct there. There is no point to a salvation in it for me. There are no sins of fathers to visit the children and sour things. It cannot be or I die right now, self destruct, no time for salvation. It is far too unfair a case for me to breathe. I literally gasped for breath for much of my childhood. So I found my way. I do not claim it is your right way. It is merely a way within which I can actually live, maybe just a little. It is a way that allows the vision I was given one night to flourish, whether that vision is true or pure fantasy.

Life Work

I pick bones with God
And here is the biggest one.

I came back for this,
To stand in the glare
Of this place, the hard grim light
Of the small losses,
The myriad events
That shrive us today, again,
That do not let go.

We try to forget
But bones will never forget.
I came back for this.

To witness, know, tell,
To see with old eyes, to turn,
Tell Him to His face.

January 13, 2009 1:10 PM


Here is the power. The mages of today are wordsmiths, musicians, purveyors of the media. The magic has left the tower, and the mages no longer wear a special look. The mages are anyone in the right realm, the places magic of some kind is supported. Under the right conditions we all may encounter God with skin on.

What You Wrote

I am ink, thin blue
Ink in a fine line, one part
Of the word you wrote.
I spell one person,
One heart among so many
Still here in the world.

You wrote us all down.

January 14, 2009 8:24 AM
POSTED BY CHRISTOPHER AT 6/09/2009 07:43:00 PM

1 comment:

  1. something so special about reading you today. i wonder if it is the words precisely that i am reading or if it is just a place of my spirit that i am in, but i receive what you write sure enough as nails, directly into me, rusty ones that fracture upon their entry.

    i am trying to work out just why it is that we arrive in this life with myths of our own to break apart. why is it that we believe life should be fair or happy or easy? these are reckonings of the soul. i watch my children and see them learn them, see them dispell their own myths. who created these myths? i am believing life is about the work. without the work we are nothing. what does luxury get you? and so it is exactly the breaking apart of these myths. mortality/immortality too, that keeps us living. life is tension between ideas. life is learning. life is hard. and so those diamonds that we find shine even brighter.



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

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