Friday, June 24, 2016

Caught up

Caught up in the light, unlike anything I've ever seen, let alone tasted and touched.  All senses firing on all cylendars.  Nothing held back, no longer.  All my dreams, pale in comparison to the reality of it.   And to know, it only goes deeper.  One direction and every direction at the same time.  All consuming, yet retaining the dignity of all.  Everything caught up, both bigger and deeper inside at the same time.

Truly, we are here.  It is a miracle.  We are made in love.  Creation moves forward, carrying with it the weary soul longing to be set free.

The time is here.  The time is now.  Set us free.  Let us know who we are in you, let use live from that truth.  The ever expanding love that has no border, no circumference, infinite in depth, 10,000 years from now, we'll have an infinite number of 10,000 years to go.

Bright light.  Shimmering, yet constant.  Where my neighbors are those I do not yet know.  Where my sisters and brothers are those I've yet to see.  Where we all converge.  Dream my friends, for the dreaming changes you.  One day, I hope all will consumed by love, and even the memory of war will be seen through the eyes of love.

Don't settle, you are dreamed for greater than you can dream for yourself.  Love.

Lord God, my see ourselves, others, everything, through your eyes.  The precious eyes of the truest reality, the deepest core.

Sunday, June 5, 2016

The New

The old bleeds into the new, the new honors the old.  And together we sing.  In am not without you, you are not without me.  Drums crave the guitar, guitar the bass, and bass the drums.  There is only One.  All is for him, and he is generous.

Life pours from every crease, from the spaces in between, stitches open, storehouses burst forth.  WE SING.  It's no longer if to create, we just join in.  The new,  contains the old, increases in depth, complexity, unity.  The unfolding of all that is.  Dark matter still dark, yet the light pulls us through, and even in a mysterious way uses the dark matter.

The future, will be born of the present, and of the old, and yet somehow time doesn't seem to matter anymore.  It's linear and we have been called to the CONTEMPLATIVE.  Black and white dips into color.  Red, yellow, blue, purple, a harvest and plethora of exploded self regenerative, self transcending greatness.

Sign me up.