Monday, September 15, 2008

good news page 2

no one was writing it all down when jesus was talking
..not too many note takers among those fishermen he recruited

so, the first gospel telling
was spread by joy and fish signs and whispers

but after that,
the good news
was wrestled to the ground
and mushed into a religion

it is uncharitable to speculate
on the ambitions, understandings or
spiritual gifts of 5th century men

dealing with mystical events
cobbling together letters and history books
attempting to conform the stories, old and new, to a single message...

now, as then, using the same book
doesn't mean everyone is on the same page

so, 'comes quietly 2000 years later
the recorded observations of
thousands of witnesses

on where we go after this life
and what we do in our spiritual home...
each substantiating the same experiences between lives...
innocently corroborating parts of the greatest story ever told

that is to say,
some of the biblical truths spoken by a humble hebrew lord

are also revealed in the work of an unassuming scientist...
like a place prepared for you,
and seeing face to face
and being held accountable for your life...
these things are found in the words and works of
both lord and scientist
who also share a common mission: spiritual healing

no doubt after reading these few lines the fearful
will crucify him all over again
just to be sure they are saved and justified by the red letters of the new testament
...but let us try to read new words in the light of old ones without losing either love or sensibility

the modern messenger is a hypnotherapist
a doctor counseling his patients

a reluctant reporter in metaphysics

a skeptical scientist

recording data, not writing dogma...
there is no jesus-saves in what he reveals...
but at the end of the day
both the bible and his book of talking souls
say many of the same things
about how we get here
what we're trying to do on earth
and where we go between lives...
here...go read about it...

jesus has backup
his name is michael

Thursday, September 11, 2008


the desert knew
its own stark beauty
before it knew rain--
then it came
a ferocity
of life unimagined
a genius
of radiance
a luminosity
of self

with time
returned again
to the long dry quiet
the vast stillness of time
the ancient wisdom of great emptiness

of itself the desert does not dwell
on the experience of sun or rain or nightfall
does not look back on nor anticipate nor regret
does nothing but accept the deep hidden magnifications
of its being

we are not so fortunate
as eaters of the tree of knowledge
once having received
the unimaginable
unasked for
brilliance of love,
we know the terrible beauty of longing
the inevitability of loss

and so it is that,
living within the memory
of love's reign,
we seek endlessly in the heavens
for the grace that has always been here--
a nascent lover and shield--
deep within our own soul

Monday, September 1, 2008

sandhill cranes on the pond -- bosque del apache wildlife refuge, nm

if too much beauty can blind the soul,
it must be why God gave peacocks
a piercing little nell minidrama for a call: "no! no! no!"...

for that, the sand hill crane is a humble counterpart--
communal gabbling in the marsh mud
foraging at leisure
sweet awkwardness in slow motion
large almond-shaped brown bodies

balancing on tall sturdy legsticks

the annual gathering at the pond seems to be sort of an avian advent,
a time of communal remembrance of life's lessons and carols
that they share with us, as both we and they are inspired
awaiting the moment they are borne aloft
on their epiphanic spring migration...