Abba's Way

44 On Love of Earth

2012-03-06T07:02:00.000-08:00

How have we loved the earth as time goes by?

Conglomerates roll willy nilly o’er

Its rills and contours. And impunity

Becomes the operative word, and war

Is what we wage. Or is it really war?

For no, we have a brief to dominate,

And nature is a two-edged scimitar,

And we lie to ourselves if we deny

That we are in control, for so we are.

We love the earth by seeing honestly

The ways in which earth is our enemy

It would be well to act respectfully

By not denying what we plainly see.

For many nature is a living myth,

An evocation of some other world;

For those with eyes to see, the truth is mixed,

For nature is a crazy quilt, unfurled,

The spectrum ranges from carnivorous,

To beauties past our power to describe;

A great procession of creations various—

Outrageous, frightening, cruel, sublime.

Respect the earth, and learn to know it well,

Respect its processes and mysteries;

Fathom its laws, unveil its gifts and flaws,

And learn to master its good processes.

The meekness I propounded has been bent

To represent a dour passivity;

Let me now say exactly what I meant:

I meant humility toward mystery,

I meant the care of a good engineer,

I meant a common sense ability,

A simple penchant for making things clear.

I am no enemy of science, no,

But meekness is what good science requires;

Or else it simply joins our idiot show.

Instead of fine solutions, raging fires.

Instead of floating homes, drowned villages.

Befriend the earth? Not in some naive way;

Befriend it standing tall in Abba’s care.

Befriend the earth, but idolize it not;

For Abba’s way makes us the masters there.

Charles Sanders Peirce - Thinking in Threes

45 On Gift Giving

2012-03-06T06:49:00.000-08:00

Gift giving is the height of all virtue.

Be not afraid to make gifts of yourselves.

Always pass on the riches of your soul.

Tell me what’s bad, what is the worst of all?

It is the soul that’s closed to giving gifts.

It is the sense of, Everything for me!

True virtues are alike: they overcome.

Your body’s friend, the spirit, creates gifts.

It is in giving that you overcome.

So listen to your spirit, hear its speech.

And let it lead you to your own virtue.

And when your body is aligned with it,

Your spirit will delight and nurture you.

Become the one who creates and esteems,

The loving benefactor of all things.

The one who passes on the gift within.

Let your heart be a river broad and full.

And when you are beyond all praise and blame,

You’ll find yourself commanding everything.

Yes, you will be past seeking the crowd’s praise.

Comfort will not end up your fondest wish.

Your mind will waken to all those who seek.

Let your own will reflect this single mind,

And learn to live beyond a sense of need.

For then your virtue will become your friend,

And be the gift you share with all who see.

With your good hand and eye, a giver be,

Free spirit unattached, open to all.

Without a need for praise or sense of blame,

Then you are free to give just as you wish.

Charles Sanders Peirce - Thinking in Threes

46.On Death

2012-02-29T07:45:00.001-08:00

Death is the slow, or sudden, end of life,

From violence, disease or long decline.

Death is as destined as the rising sun,

As certain as the rolling of the tides.

Death is as real as a state of mind.

Or as a dream remembered in the dawn.

Within the mind of Abba, life’s a gift.

And gifts are free, not to be held too tight.

The best of gifts achieve their destiny.

The gift of life is wrapped in nothingness,

In planetary voids and cell-less deeps.

Religion builds fair castles in the sky

And life is turned from gift to burdened wait.

Each day that might reveal a lively depth,

Is prey to rumbling tumbrels in our minds.

Intent and will are shunted to the side,

And hope is centered on some long beyond,

And in the eyes a blankness speaks cold doom,

And walking seems a shuffling death march.

Those who know Abba know life survives

Without demanding knowledge beyond death.

Those for whom Abba lives inwardly

Say yes to what in life lives beyond time.

Yes to work that brings visions alive,

Yes to play that plumbs the joys inside;

And yes to holy creativity,

That moves us past death’s shadows toward the light.

Yes to dying when the right time comes;

A death that says its yes to all that lives.

But no to deaths from battle and disease,

And no to this world’s criminal decrees!

I live again now. Once I died too young.

The hated victim of the good and just.

I knew the way of love and laughter too,

And came to show the way to overcome.

How immature the world’s hatred of life,

How self-serving the worship of grim death.

I say be free to die and free in death,

And say a holy Yes when No is past.

Charles Sanders Peirce - Thinking in Threes

47 On Child and Marriage

2012-02-29T07:15:00.002-08:00

What can be said of marriage and the child?

The notion that a child takes precedence

Is heresy to self-indulgent ears.

Do we not know that marriage is for “love”?

Why then is love so adversarial?

A bond to win protection from the state.

Should love abate, the state divides the spoils.

Prenuptials define how deep love runs.

What of infatuation? Is that love?

And if so, what of children? Of the child?

Children are such brats, imperious.

Children are no noisy, shut them up.

Why can’t we have time just for ourselves?

I’m stuck here all day with these awful kids.

Now I am left alone. How to survive?

Marriage and family, the mantra goes.

Why then are children such an afterthought?

Or like some program to be done from pride?

Or trophies to be always on display?

Or else abandoned in a thousand ways?

How mixed up and how mired in moral cant?

Where to begin? Well I’ll start at the end.

See no child as the product of wedlock.

See each child as but Abba’s jealous claim.

See marriage as a word people have made

To speak whatever language they prefer.

See children as those whom adults once were.

Despair of sorting through parental blames,

A simple reason would spare us this play.

But passion is not simple, nor is rage.

And reason will be crushed, kids made to pay,

Until the end of time or doomsday comes.

We are a parlous race of vagabonds.

What we do not destroy we idolize.

And then paint with such mawkish sentiment

That we see mawkish as the best there is,

And honor it with tear-stained handkerchiefs.

Could there not be a thoughtful conception?

Could not a marriage have a real idea?

Could not a parent learn a firm, real love?

Could not a space for reason be vouchsafed?

You’re young. You long for marriage and a child.

But by what right do you wish for a child?

Are you victorious? Self-conquering?

Do you command your senses and virtues?

Or are you animal in wish and need?

All loneliness and lack of inner peace?

Let victory and freedom wish a child.

Would marriage be a help to you in this?

Perhaps first be a wheel that’s self-propelled.

Become a self-created creator.

Marriage would then be the will of two.

Marriage would be common reverence.

What then is marriage minus reverence?

It is a poverty of souls in pairs,

Not made in heaven but lost in hell’s net.

Abba blesses unions that create.

Ones that create. Abba does not bless hate.

How many give their children cause to weep?

The world sees marriage as a marketplace,

A sea of cunning eyes where cunning buys.

The world loves follies when they are called love.

The world will trample love into the muck.

True love of woman and of man?

Then have an eye out for all suffering.

Make love a torch to light a higher way.

Esteem good humor more than moral talk.

Even the best love has its bitterness.

True overcoming underlies true love.

That and a thirst to reach to the next stage.

Thirst to create and longing for the light.

If your will is to wed, I wish you well.

But read these lines, lest marriage be your hell.

Charles Sanders Peirce - Thinking in Threes

48 On The Good Tree

2012-02-03T05:13:00.000-08:00

To yield good fruit, one must be a good tree.

Abba grows good trees if you but believe;

But say you wish to see Abba’s will done,

Both earth and heaven. Then the good tree comes.

It is inexorable, destined, done,

Though few will choose this path to fruition;

The tree is watered, set beside a stream

And as it grows it becomes one of Abba’s trees.

You leave convention and self-interest,

Your leaves are made to move to finer winds;

You operate by bedrock sentiments

And draw conclusions based on Abba’s Way.

Your branches will not bow to emperors,

Your boards will not build cathedrals and shrines;

The principalities and powers arise,

But you stand upright, Abba at your side.

To yield good fruit, one must be a good tree.

Abba grows good trees if you but believe;

But say you wish to see Abba’s will done,

Both earth and heaven. Then the good tree comes.

Charles Sanders Peirce - Thinking in Threes

49.On Women

2012-01-20T06:22:00.000-08:00

To some men, women are a riddle too.

But not to me. I see the truth like day.

I always hear the notes of something new.

Once, as a boy, I longed to walk as you.

The bearing of the children of the earth?

Too often after men have turned away?

How great a treasure this! Yes, that is so.

Unknown by men steeped in the mindless crowd.

Corrupted love kills infants by the score.

Do not set blame. Stop loving thus. No more!

There is a play that men and women do,

A world of eye to eye, not seduction.

To view unseeing women on their way,

As they pass swiftly through a moving crowd,

Gives me my fondest visions of the truth,

The truth of the unknowing eye to eye.

The crowd is wed to danger and to play.

I praise the woman who seeks solitude.

The crowd is happy if it can possess.

A woman’s happy if she can refuse.

The cruelties of love are beyond speech.

I would a woman be beyond all pain.

You’ve heard it said, Shake dust from off your feet.

I say aloud, When hands are raised, take leave.

False love is love that breathes in unison

With heated crowds’ disgusting decibels.

How mindless is the noise of braying folk,

Who trade good words for coded idiot speech.

The crowd inclines to feats of strength and war.

Refuse and be the truest warrior.

Do this not out of heartfelt sympathy,

But silent rage at crowd mentality.

Unrecognized, a woman’s mind goes slack.

Blessed when her star-like radiance shines through.

Blessed when she breaks the chains of all abuse.

Blest you with courage to go on your own.

Twice blest if children go as well.

The wings of your own strength their future bear.

The crowd is blind to beauty in the old

And lusts but for the woman as a child.

Illusion and false stars and emptiness.

A fount of faces long, with deadened eyes.

Beneath veneers, harsh slaveries persist.

Men, knowing better, roll like pigs in heat.

The noise grows louder as stupidity

Attains new levels to dead melodies.

Let women free themselves from all of this.

Let them enjoy the fruits of freedom’s gifts.

Old women never lose a single thing.

Not beauty, not reflection, not desire.

A girl can choose an overcoming life

Before her powers of reproduction rise.

And if she does, she lives above the crowd.

She has no commerce with their lusts and lies.

The end is: Overcome! Shine forth the truth!

Then love exactly as you wish to do.

50 On Creativity

2012-01-15T17:22:00.000-08:00

Is it your wish to find your own true self?

Then listen to these cautionary words.

Beware the voices of near and far crowds;

Some voices tell you, Seekers will get lost,

Or to do this or that to stay alive.

They’ll turn you into one who follows crowds.

I know, when you reject these shallow views,

You may fall prey to lonely agonies.

The path to who you are may lead through pain.

But Abba takes your hand and walks with you,

Till you move like a wheel on your own power;

And stars above begin to shine for you.

Throw out ambition, it will not suffice.

Throw out high thoughts, for Abba knows your mind.

Merely, in quiet, ask and seek and knock.

Abba within will tend your every need.

Then you will break your yoke and become free.

Can you name values and claim them as well?

This is the fruit of graceful solitude,

The essence of all creativity;

For Abba is sublime and within you,

And only Abba leads you to what’s true.

To choose this way will change all views of you.

You may appear to have left all behind.

But neither lord the change, nor change deny.

The friendship you possess is within you.

If choices must be made, choose loneliness,

Rather than dull submission to false cries.

You’re on your way to being a bright star.

No shadows need be cast upon your glow.

But if they are, just let them fall away.

Walk on. This is creation’s holy way.

The virtuous and just may crucify.

Do not be tempted by their siren call.

Even eschew holy simplicity.

Beyond its surface may lie fire and stake.

Beware all who deny complexity;

No one can grasp all truths, not one.

Choose your good friends with care, and patiently.

Sometimes the worst of enemies is you.

You are the one for whom you lie in wait.

Ah, lonely one, one day you’ll be yourself,

Beyond all barriers you have in you.

Learn to converse with every force within,

And to negotiate the way ahead.

This is creation, creativity.

Fluency is Abba’s gift to you.

You can rise up anew from all fierce flames

When you have chosen this creative way.

Your vanquished devils will be serving you.

One day, with halting steps, your work appears.

And it will be your life and honesty.

And you will bask in Abba’s silent praise,

And that of friends you made along the way.

Come take my warm tears with you as you go;

Delight in what your future may yet show.

51. On Love of Neighbor

2012-01-06T13:02:00.000-08:00

To love your neighbor seems a strange request;

We think of neighbor as the one next door.

We also counsel love of enemy;

Both equally confound us more and more.

You cannot love without love of yourself;

Not narcissistic preening or false pride.

Abba within is very love itself;

Therefore love of yourself is fair and wise.

Accepting this is your beginning point;

To know that you are loved beyond all loves.

Civility is clearly part of love,

So too awareness and a giving way.

But not so much you trample on yourself.

Love does not seek well-speaking of itself;

That is a common reason why we act.

But seeking praise denies Abba straight out;

And Abba’s is the only praise we need.

Love does not lie. Love does not tell tall tales;

Direct and simple, never gossiping.

A silent doing will exceed a shout;

A soft accomplishment drowns out fanfare.

Do not love for association’s sake;

This is an insecure advance at best.

Your inner confidence tells vastly more,

Than any knowing that you seek to claim.

Some neighbor love will hurt those farthest off;

Join in no clique or group that cooks up wrong;

I teach that friendship can complete the world;

A friendship based on Abba’s love of all.

To do no harm to those you cannot see

Is the first step to loving enemies;

Civility to those who are close by

Can pave the way if love is meant to be.

52 On Values

2012-01-04T07:53:00.000-08:00

Life is the goods and evils that we choose;

I bring a choice to topple all past choice.

A way our ways of wickedness to lose,

I say choose Abba only, sole and true.

For Abba transcends all that we create;

And Abba’s way is written on our hearts.

This great I Am, speaks from a burning tree,

Saying only, I will be Who I Will Be.

And frees us to create beyond ourselves;

And frees us to do what’s most difficult.

And frees us to fulfill our deepest dreams;

Abba within, not some divisive cult.

Blaring trumpets, insecure and vain,

Can’t carry us an inch along the way.

The vicious, vengeful ways of jealousy,

Are seen for what they are when Abba reigns.

I speak a way of shaking dust from feet,

And praying simply any time at all;

And letting the sun set upon our rage,

And leaving all who deal with us amazed.

I speak a way of childlike ignorance,

A wisdom past most all philosophy.

For Abba is the author of our truth;

And we can only see what we can see!

Thus free yourself from false authority;

I do not speak submission, I speak strength.

But not a strength that relies on brute force;

I speak the strength of standing tall and free.

No way you choose will be THE way for all,

All are created to succeed alone;

So don’t display your treasures in parades;

Be circumspect, your goals to you belong.

Abba’s most sacred freedom is to be

Potential within every being made.

To help each one on earth to live by choice,

To lead all souls to drink from crystal springs

Abba within holds close your freest heart;

Abba within gives you your freest truth.

All idols are but values we once made

To mask our sad mistrust of Abba’s way.

53 On Cynicism

2011-12-23T13:12:00.000-08:00

Cruel, venal and competitive—

What else is life to millions on the make?

Poor, rich, disabled, add an adjective

To sketch the killing toll this living takes.

Sex slaves are not just words, they’re fragile lives,

And disdain from the arrogant cuts deep;

A cynical analysis will thrive;

There is no lack of reasons we should weep.

And cynicism is the coolest way

To smirk and bear a tragic calculus,

And watch the whole thing blindly night and day,

So cool because it never touches us.

Deliver us from evil, we all say?

It is a need none can or will deny;

Still efficacious goodness is the way,

Though that might make us suffer, even die.

The deathly values we live by must go.

That happens to be our most crying need;

Or else we have a tasteless, gruesome show,

Our boot heels crushing Abba’s precious seed.

Inclusive love transcends a family,

For families mix love and war with ease;

The best of love is the love of enemy,

Which one can do. But who is there who sees?

We say perfection’s unattainable,

I say negotiation can succeed;

Perhaps I am the one who’s cynical!

I merely underline this sad deep need.

For Abba’s way is simple helpfulness,

Devoid of all religious cant and show;

Unassuming and infused with happiness,

A cynic can be generous, you know!

The cynic’s realism is a trap,

The very refuge of hypocrisy;

Better be skewered by a cynic’s rap,

Than be lost in to be or not to be.

Still, cynicism is the coolest way

To smirk and bear our tragic calculus,

And watch the whole thing blindly night and day,

So cool because it never touches us.

54 On Celebrity

2011-12-03T04:04:00.001-08:00

Seek solitude wherever you may be;

You might be in a city, or beyond.

Seek solitude alone or in a crowd;

You need not be afraid to be alone.

Don’t think you must have friends always nearby;

Seek solitude, a space where mind is free.

Seek solitude and commune with your will;

Seek solitude to give your reason play.

I see the passion for celebrity;

I see the shoving of the hurried crowd.

The private and the public are confused.

Let Abba lead you to a silent space

To think, to reason and be one with you.

Can silence overcome the marketplace?

Yes. Abba can create silence ‘mid noise.

So many know so little of this way,

So few believe that they have any choice.

So many blindly follow and conform

To ways of shouting, insult and deep scorn.

If they knew about whom this world revolves,

They might question what they are living for.

Abba is at the center, in all cells,

In every person, Abba seeks to shine.

Celebrity and fame are this world’s way;

Abba creates the truest stars of all.

I celebrate the depths of consciousness;

Celebrities will move from faith to faith.

Quick and capricious, always something new,

They tear things down to prove that they exist.

I celebrate the depths of consciousness;

Their weapon is persuasion and bombast,

A bloody entertainment is a plus.

All cameras on the altars as they kneel;

Think of the endless hours that they steal.

I celebrate the depths of consciousness;

The people lavish love upon the great;

But if you love the truth, be not ashamed.

Seek solitude and thought and then create;

Turn from the sudden ones. Choose quiet ways.

Seek deep experience and then create;

There is a place, beyond celebrity,

Where all that’s truly good and great takes place,

This place is where new values come to life.

Seek solitude wherever you may be;

You might be in a city or beyond.

Seek solitude alone or in a crowd;

The greatest victories are won alone.

55 On War

2011-11-29T06:25:00.001-08:00

We were all made with war inside our veins;

The power to fight and kill is not a dream.

Nor can war be defeated with our words;

War is the hell we know when reason fails.

Our hoary values rise to claim the day;

Freedom becomes our decreed destiny,

Intelligence our lethal rationales,

Our values become graven images.

There are no values that approach Abba;

Before Abba all values are as dross.

And none more dross than those that buttress war:

Strength. Courage. Loyalty. Obedience.

To whom? To Abba? Abba wills no war.

There is no friend and there’s no enemy;

All soldiers cede their freedom in advance,

Then become victims of both friend and foe;

Their choice is chimera. They have to go.

Those wars which have no weapons, none left dead,

Can be as virulent as killing wars.

Words are a sword as sharp as fine-filed steel,

And pierce as deep as daggers into flesh.

I look for warriors whose courage is

Too high to be dragged onto killing fields;

Who can endure the rage of patriot gore

And speak the reason of the world to be.

This world to be has no antagonists,

Protagonists are history as well.

This world has those who bow to none at all,

For only Abba, Abba is their life.

We were all made with war inside our veins;

The power to fight and kill is not a dream.

War energy need not be used to kill;

Use it to make a world where true peace reigns.

56 On Self Transformation

2011-11-25T12:52:00.001-08:00

Self-transformation is what Abba does;

For every self on earth must be transformed.

Abba makes diamonds from selves in the rough;

Abba enables us to be reborn.

Internal selves, our very heart and core,

Must be made new to walk in Abba’s way;

The love of Abba comes and what is more,

The love of Abba has been there always.

Only by practice can the race be run,

You choose a life—a life that you will make,

And practice Abba’s way as you move on.

Abba is with you every step you take.

People saw me and called me Master, Lord,

And took me for some super-being on earth;

I merely saw what life is moving toward,

And felt the power of Abba’s inner surge.

I am a planter. Abba is the seed;

His image is a seed within each soul;

His pattern answers every human need

And is the only way to be made whole.

If you are mired deep in worldly cares,

And glamorized by dreams of wealth and fame,

You will have trouble finding Abba there;

Indeed you may not even know his name.

But those who hear see through earth’s shabby round,

Where conflict seems the only valid choice;

Their ears are open to a holy sound,

It is the sound of Abba’s still small voice.

I sing the life that follows Abba’s way,

Embracing values beyond cant and show;

And free to be who one is, come what may;

I sing the life that goes where Abba goes.

I came to set up fortresses on earth

Not made of stone, not garbed in kingly robes,

I came to gauge things by Abba’s sole worth,

And point to life beyond the world’s vain shows.

Self-transformation is what Abba does;

For every self on earth must be transformed.

Abba makes diamonds from selves in the rough;

Abba enables us to be reborn.

57 On The Passions

2011-11-24T06:16:00.001-08:00

There was a time you called your passions ill;

But surely from our passions virtues rise.

Our highest goals, the fruit of our best will

Produce what is most beautiful and wise.

Are you inclined to put down everything?

To act in anger and fanatic rage?

To let rage and resentment take high wing?

Why not instead transform them? That is sage!

Yes, turn passions to virtues, every one;

Let devils turn to angels, as they will.

Let wild dogs sing like birds in the bright sun;

And let each passion wells of goodness fill.

Then nothing ill need ever come to you;

Just know your passions and direct them well.

Then you will overcome in all you do;

And have good stories you can tell yourself.

58 On The Despisers of the Body

2011-11-11T05:15:00.001-08:00

If you despise your body, please hear this.

Without your body you would not be you.

Are soul and body one? Yes, one it is.

It is the body that lets soul come through.

Awake to all that is your body now;

Within your body sense and reason live.

The spirit ranges from toe tip to brow;

Body and soul, they are a single gift.

Your body is the home of being itself,

Whose reason exceeds your imagined store.

Allow your mind to wander, yes, to delve;

Then day by day you will know more and more.

Your spirit and your body, they are one;

Despisers of the body will not hear.

Still Abba speaks. Good news. A new day comes.

One day our wholeness will be crystal clear.

59 On Fleeing This World

2011-10-15T05:09:00.000-07:00

So many wish to flee this world of ours,

They look around and then they look beyond;

This world is seen as under hostile powers,

Such persons only dream of moving on.

Some weary souls seek heaven with one leap,

The ultimate in but a single bound.

That’s how religion’s gods all came to be,

Custodians of fictional beyonds.

But Abba accepts inconsistencies,

And tolerates our endless confusion.

Our selves are who we are, right here and now,

Accepting Abba is our solution.

Oppose not earth and heaven, they are one,

For Abba lives within imperfect us.

Instead of fleeing, face life, bring it on,

Who works to transform this world? Abba does.

We do not know if heaven is a place,

But Abba makes us each his heavenly home;

His presence is what we should all embrace,

For life is us and Abba being one.

60 On The Good News

2011-09-19T03:12:00.000-07:00

The good news is not that Jesus is God.
The good news is the truth I first proclaimed.
God is available to human beings,
Call him Abba—for father and for friend.
Abba is near to help fulfill your life,
And harmonize your life with others too
We live on an abundant planet home,
Which we have plundered, raped and torn in two.
The good news is that Abba is with us,
And Abba’s power in us redeems the world.
The good news is that Abba is for us.
I came precisely to make this truth clear;
In hopes the world would see and understand,
Instead, religion turned truth into fear.
The good news is connection has been made,
Between Abba and us—it is that close.
Yes, Abba’s nigh, present, available,
Protector, guardian, guide and loving friend.
The good news is that because this is so
Each person is creator, strong and free;
In partnership with Abba and his way.
The good news is our real guilt is transformed,
Along with weakness, sorrows, heartbreaks, pain;
With limitations, we achieve good things—
And treat our neighbors just as we would be,
For we return the gifts that we receive.
The good news is not that Jesus is God.
The good news is the truth I first proclaimed.

61 On The Messiah

2011-09-14T04:06:00.000-07:00

Your bible speaks of me as Messiah;

Your bible speaks of me as Jesus Christ.

Your bible makes of me the gospel whole;

Your bible is your bible, it’s not mine.

Don’t be so shocked, consider what is true:

The good news is not what’s been made of me;

The good news is the truth that time has won:

Abba is near, available, alive.

I saw the principalities and powers,

Ready to crush this seeming blasphemy.

I’d but to say I act with Abba’s power

To be killed at the hands of enemies.

And so to death upon the cross I went,

And then to legend and theology;

And now to sentimental, feel good, praise:

Select a text and focus all on me!

I came to simply say Abba is near,

Repent, believe, this is the good news now.

And Abba will live happily within,

All those who turn from life’s idolatries,

Enjoying life with Abba deep inside.

The very being that gives being to all,

The very source of goodness, light of life.

To call Abba the force is better sense

Than tomes of doctrine, indefensible.

I knew a tiny remnant would see true,

I knew the tempting way would be the rule.

I knew the fickle ways of swaying crowds,

Their other-worldly superstition too.

See now the texts that join all texts extant,

Creating religion in place of truth;

It’s not enough to speak of force and power,

Available, within all who believe.

How many times must we start yet again?

How many will believe that we are free?

Ah, my frustration is not terminal,

Each day gives birth to possibility.

The sum of poet’s prophecy and faith

Is Abba’s inner all-sufficiency.

So have an eye for progress on this earth,

And breathe in Abba’s presence as you go.

And you will walk the road of victory,

And know more than the theologians know.

62 On Hearing and Seeing

2011-09-12T03:21:00.000-07:00

So many hear, but do not understand.

So many see, but they do not perceive.

So many are wrapped up in cloaks of pride.

They think their education sets their worth.

Such valuation is a great mistake.

It bodes the end of Homo sapiens.

Is anyone prepared to set a goal?

To stand upright for what is most hoped for?

There is still time, still soil to hold the seed.

But see: The curtain slowly falling down.

The time is coming. Chances will be gone.

Come, grasp the dancing energy within,

Before you perish and know only cold.

Beware the time to come if you should fail.

Tell me: Can you describe the end?

It means you only blink at life.

You cannot say what love is, what a star.

It means you are immune to all desire,

Immune to all but grim sonambulance.

It means the earth you see is very small.

It means that all you touch will shrink to naught.

It means you hop about like some strange bug

For whom the only comfort is…comfort.

This comfort is the world’s last tour de force.

All blinking souls will head for warmer climes.

And will have neighbors only of like mind.

In gated villages with managed care.

The greatest sin will be the loss of health.

It will be followed by lost peace of mind.

When death comes, poisons sweet to ease the end.

Sweet dreams, more poison and a painless close.

Our blinking friends will still do what’s called work.

But work will be like music or like films.

Not harrowing, not boring, no demands.

No wearisome extremes. No rich. No poor.

Our friends will brook no physical duress.

They’ll cede all governance to those called ‘They’

And then complain if comfort is cut off.

No room at all for those who don’t conform.

There is a madhouse for such malcontents.

So many hear, but do not understand.

So many see, but they do not perceive.

63 The Still Small Voice

2011-09-07T04:50:00.000-07:00

Abba holds each good dream in his hands,

And with a still small voice softly commands.

Come listen, and you’ll find your victory,

The still small voice will guide your mind and hands.

Abba loves those who know they do not know.

Yet know enough to keep their light alive;

Abba loves those who claim this earth as home,

And need no far off star to make things right.

Abba loves those who think to find a way,

Who live in harmony within themselves;

Who say their No to culture’s killing pace,

Their eyes upon a more abundant wealth.

Some crush life from their puffed up podiums,

Surrounded by the falsest flattery.

The still small voice speaks softly from the deeps

Creating saving movement inwardly.

I love the ones who love this deeper way,

And think before they make a simple choice;

Who do not lose their minds in foolish play,

But instead listen to the still small voice.

I love the ones whose minds and hearts are fused,

Delighting in the flow of inner joys.

For from their very depths a firelight glows,

Ignited softly by the still small voice.

64 On Night

2011-09-05T06:02:00.000-07:00

Some sounds are louder when they’re heard at night;

Some things are more alive in our night dreams.

Imagination bends to scary frights,

Or trembles, longing for the warmth of arms.

Why dark and light, why birth and death, why these?

Night ties us to unfathomed mysteries;

Night is a testimonial to truth,

The truth that life itself is meaningful,

Beyond what we, when wide awake, can see.

The truth of Abba’s night time gifts to us,

The gifts of dreaming power and deepest sleep.

The night awakens craving for sweet love,

The night accentuates our loneliness.

The night casts light upon the needs within.

Night stops our time and yet the time proceeds;

When we awake the hours are simply past.

The need for re-creation, palpable,

Is met during hours that simply pass us by.

Attend, attend, to sleep and dream-borne thoughts;

Your body calls. Your body is yourself.

It is the habitation of your life;

When it is gone, then you are gone as well.

Night thus becomes a symbol and a sign;

Night says yes to this premise, and then no.

Night thoughts and dreams are made of Abba’s stuff;

They are the stuff of Abba’s holy realm.

This realm has habitation in each self,

And calls each self to become Abba’s home.

This is the power of the light unseen;

Night makes this unseen realm more visible.

Lay your head down and close your eyes in faith;

Open your inner eye to love’s embrace.

Allow this love to lift you, wash you clean,

And in this dark, supernal privacy,

Be open to the presence of Abba.

Be open to the arms of lifting love.

And if the day finds you beyond all sorts,

Adrift upon some unexplored, new sea,

Then ponder night and meditate on it,

And stride more faithfully beneath the sun.

65 The greatest event would be values changed.

2011-09-04T05:15:00.000-07:00

We do not see a future in our hands.

Instead we are in thrall to Great Events.

The greatest thing of all would be to own

The very challenge that is life’s essence:

That is to freely choose to co-create,

And build the values on which life might thrive.

But no, see what we do, and how we fail:

See here, disaster one, the crumbling towers!

What values were revealed upon all sides?

The puerile values of the puerile past.

With but scarcely a hint of new insight.

See here disaster two, the waters rage!

What is the value of recycled awe?

Doomed to repeat a way of proven doom?

See now disaster three, more waters rage!

Well, didn’t Noah have the right idea?

The truth is that we close our eyes to truth.

And Great Events repeat to gaping eyes,

Incessant nostrums and obscene sound bites.

Just as “addiction” forecloses freedom,

So “Great Events” foreclose all saving change.

Our heaven is impotent candy dreams.

Hell is evoked when called for in the script.

Heaven could be a reasoned reaction.

Hell could be seen as mindlessness unloosed.

I once was said to create miracles.

I merely did what reason can well do.

I merely previewed possibility.

Aye, few perceive the largest miracle:

That Abba is at hand, a partner, friend,

That hoary past is lifted feather-like,

That we can say goodbye to Great Events.

The greatest event would be values changed.

That is the only option that remains.

Sixty Six Vision and Enigma

2011-09-03T06:32:00.000-07:00

Some say there is an eternal return.
Recurrence of all past events always.
Philosophy replaces ancient creed.
The being of all being parsed anew.
The very truth of life is life itself.
For it contains all miracles and views.
Reliving it is not one of its truths.
Abba is every life’s eternal truth.
Abba is being, to the edge of naught.
Abba is truth experienced within.
Abba is life as far as we can know.
Abba’s concern is for what we create.
Why do balk in fear of doom and death?
Why do we set the greatest gift aside?
We already die when this is done.
There is a heaven, heaven is a place,
Where Abba’s will is done and we are free.
This heaven’s here when it is here. Always.
How it continues is not ours to know.
But we already know it cannot die.
When we are dust is Abba there as well?
How can we know? Why should we know? We don’t.
I think of Paul bemoaning his demise,
If he from dust and ashes might not rise.
I think of sad religion built upon
Sad doctrines wishful thinking once devised.
What’s wishful about corpses wandering?
And heavens made to look like judgment halls?
And fairy myths of tinsel deities?
These wishful doctrines are a sad reprise
Of priestly striving for ascendancy.
The real enigma: How the truth slipped through!
The only true thing is Abba in you.
The truthful vision: All Abba can do!
If only you let Abba work in you.

67 Some argue that the past contains the now

2011-09-01T06:01:00.000-07:00

Some argue that the past contains the now.
Or that the now must hold all of the past.
Which would explain my presence, I suppose.
But this would be less than what truly is.
Whatever can take place has not occurred.
For if it had, there’d be no need to be.
If all was said and done, life would be done.
Remarkable, this strange philosophy!
You know: The story of two roads that meet.
One goes one way for an eternity.
The other goes the other—the same thing.
They meet. They call the juncture This Moment.
But if eternity’s already past
Or if eternity is still to come,
Must not all things have already been done?
Must not this moment be done, or to come?
Our answer must come from our point of view.
And I can only give you mine: It is:
Time is not circular, does not repeat.
Eternity is not chronology.
Eternity is time on heaven’s terms.
It intersects the world’s time all the time.
It is whenever Abba’s will is done.
Eternity is heaven’s time on earth.
May I say this in yet another way?
Time is a spectrum in itself, a field.
Its colors flash according to the time!
One moment you create and lose all sense.
Another you are waiting and time drags.
Time has its qualities and quirks galore.
What we can measure is but fuzzy math.
Would you not trade all sleep for one sweet kiss?
Would you not give a year for one sweet hour?
What we repeat is striving for lost times,
Lost moments when truth flashed across our skies.
We all are containers of all kinds of time.
Each moment can transform all past moments.
Each moment can create times yet to be.
Wherefore we call time’s truth a miracle.
Or vision, moment, or bright clarity.
Why would I still be here if time were stopped?
What is eternity but pregnant time?
The medium of knowing time is you.
Abba within you is your link to truth.
The truth of time is being unfolding.
The truth of time is vision realized.
Unfolding, realized—at the same time.
The truth of time is letting stasis be.
The truth of time is our eternity.

68 On Wandering

2011-09-01T03:40:00.000-07:00

Some wander, some stay put, I move at will.
Sometimes to places anchored in the past.
Sometimes to seek out places to be known.
A wanderer might be a stranger too.
I wander but each place I am is home.
A wanderer may never move at all.
Our minds can wander farther than our feet.
To read the lives of those whose lives are o’er
Is to set feet upon another shore.
Sometimes the parallels are very clear,
And other times we’re drawn to stretch our sight.
We see the ebb and fall of lives long past
Their loves, their ills, short lives, long lives, now still.
We wander through these vaults of memory
Amazed at times at what our eyes can see.
Long-forgotten words are heard once more.
Names once lost in the mist rise up again.

+

Today to wander is the artist’s way,
For art is now perception in itself.
The layers of our making are so deep
Reflecting creations beyond all count,
Our coalescent magic can be seen,
And real is now the art that we once sought.
The world is lines, lined up at our museums.
And wanderers who see what time has made.
One day museum lines will cease to be,
As we perceive the world that we create.
Then wandering will be the way for all.
A loosening, a freedom on the road.
Stand still. Or move. It makes no difference.
New ways to wander rise like poppies fair.
Today’s confusion is tomorrow’s sight.
Lost continents will be the wanderer’s goal.
Rise up anew, for wanderers bring health.

+

The wanderer will find a sacrament
In any sighting, hearing or parade.
The wanderer will not divide the truth,
Romantically conceiving unscaled heights,
Excoriating lows, bowing to highs.
One billion perspectives, one billion truths,
Sitting like bricks upon the passive mind.
It takes some wandering to make them live.
Wherein lies greatness, in your life, in mine?
Once set your anchor there and you are lost.
Wander. Create. Make choices. Keep on going.
Your passing thanks the only clue you need.
Come joy! Come vision! Not some frozen past.
Come peace! Come light! Let all things be made new.
Thus let us learn to see and freely be.
And thus become a world of wandering.