faith

Faith without works is dead! within our everyday actions, from the moment we wake up to when we lie down to sleep, we can claim our faith and find freedom in doing so. thoughts and feelings are colored by judgment calls which may or not be accurate. how many times have you made an appraisal only to find out you were dead wrong? and then how you feel about it shifts. feelings are colored by thoughts and thoughts, influenced by how we feel. years can go by being misled, having misconstrued a situation, misunderstanding and being misunderstood! our actions, on the other hand, are tangible, concrete. they cannot lie. what you do is true.

impoverishment

this morning i walked out on the porch and watched the sky turn a lighter blue. i hope these morning skies in america never become full with drones. i hope to hold this book that has been in my head and on my screen for so long, in my hands. i have momentum and a routine. i am seeing an organic whole. my challenge right now is how to properly end this. remember. the guiding principle in the universe, god or what you believe, is a clashing and mixture of forces; tragedies and wonders exist simultaneously. a book is a life, created by a life, reflective of a life, and may be loved or hated when read. the poorest anyone could be on the final page, is when they got no feelings at all.

painful.feeling

Yesterday I ran and the weather was hopeful, was spring. Today the hopeless feelings come on in waves, and collect inside me then strike. They leave me hurting. I won’t have time to sit with them for tea. I must ditch them and go to my work. I am confused. I am touched. My eyes feel weak from staring at the diverse screens. My spirit is strong. My mind is tired of going over it all. The world. The brevity of life. The many many feelings I mistook for fact. Again I promise myself to do what’s in front of me, refuse to retreat or indulge in the pain. For even if the sun be stolen from the sky, I must recreate the sunlight and be joyful. There is no other way I can live.

mid august melody

you were space
you were operatic

i was listening
but could not hear

like a potted plant i
needed time to take on
water. once i drank
i was full

i need to paint my nails
a soft shell blue
to remember me
with you

you are angry
i am yelling
you are pacing
i am telling myself
not to cry

i believe i’m gonna
sound the pitch of railroad tie
a’buried in the ground

locked in there. to stabilize
a nation. split in two

i am crying the earth away
so i can see you
again. next to me
saying your sorries

they mean nothing
they mean nothing

i am space
washing saucers
operatic

you are history
you are gone

i am thinking of you
i am typing

you are reading
i am writing we are
dreaming we are
one

summer’s gone
and come

you are dreaming
i am typing we are
reading in the
sun

this moon is not pink and they-them-theirs never will be

Though you call them the ‘pink moon’ and dress them in floral prints of the season, the full moon tonight will show their true color to you tonight and let you be let down (or up), and they will light your faces up so they can see how happy or sad you are to see them so. And they will shine upon the phlox they were misnamed after, whose flamed flowers will rise in unison to the top of their stems to peer upon them, and feel their power of persuasion, and the feeling will feel full and beneficial and the phlox flower water will become bubbly and pour pink champagne into the trumpet of the lily. All will at very least acknowledge the full and vibrant moon for their mighty refusal to be classified, categorized, denigrated, or diagnosed. Darwin may well be confused, yet his curiosity a contagion the whole world could catch. The moon was a kind moon, a gentle moon, a moon of many colors, and kept their feelings somewhat to themselves, so not to disturb the galaxy.

little children made a song they like to sing
every april comes around…

then one day 
the pink moon got away
turned blue 
for me and for you
happily and for 
ever

too