Self

My Soul where are You? (Audio)

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My Soul . . . my Soul . . . where are you

I am alone, desolate, and lost

Divided, hollow, terrified, and torn asunder

How is it that we were ever parted

What pattern, design, or devise perpetrated this

On Me, on You, on Us

I truly did not know

I was foolish and ignorant

Most wretched in the cleverness of the show

I lived from day to day

All the while you called

You beckoned and warned

But I in my folly was blind

Too stupid to comprehend your most simple need

To stupid to understand that your needs were also my own

Forgiveness (Audio)

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My heart, my Soul you long for me.  You miss my presence and the quiet rest it brings.  You miss the joy and gentle laughter.  And the familiar intimate passion whose flames burn with cleansing and refining fire.  You are torn in two, exposed in the shadows and seeking relief, some covering for your nakedness.  No wonder you seek my attention.  No wonder that at times in your wrath I am shamed, belittled, and the object of cruel humor.  I have always known you yet in my folly, my cleverness I sought You in the Other.  I performed for you to win your approval.  I poured myself into the leaky cup of achievement and was spilled out onto the dry earth.

My love I have wanted you from forever.  I now know that we share the same destiny.  To damnation or redemption we both shall go.  I now  know, I now believe where you reside, at least with my intellect (Lord help my unbelief),  Yet I still move between sense and nonsense, faith and doubt.  I strain to make the turn toward you and enter your castle.  Why can I not run a straight path into your arms so that the torture might cease?  Am I even now so twisted that straight is beyond my comprehension and ability?  I begin the journey with “I forgive You”.  You are that which I have made you.  The greater forgiveness is yours to give me.  My fear and stupidity, my double minded laziness left you alone and dying.  Do what you must my Love.  I am coming but I do not know the way back to you.  But I go out nonetheless, not knowing the way.  But I know the destination . . .

Your head on my chest, legs entwined, deep solemn rest.

The Picture – Fifty One and Five Sixths

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I am not accustomed to seeing myself

Looking at that photo, appraising it with no reference except itself

Shyness arose and I averted my eyes

But curiosity sent my gaze back again

Who was that looking back at me

There under the flesh of my fathers

Hint of recognition

Something in the eye seemed familiar

Confused, I wondered how he could have come to wear that dressing

I have been here the whole time and had not noticed the change

If indeed that was him, where had he been

Why is he only now looking into my eyes

It startled me, a jolt of “Is that really you?”

Is it?

The eyes looked back at me unwavering

Then I saw him

There beneath the effects of all those years

I smiled a toothy grin of welcome and of coming home

He asked “Are you ready now?”

I said “Let’s go!”