Agronomist

For most, Breaking ground never looks pretty,  soothing or

inspiring. The farmer reaches down on one knee,  holding a clump of dirt and can almost taste the sweet melons.

For most,  the shit that happens in the fields of our daily lives we discard with disdain and dissemination,  if not out and out bitching on Facebook or blogs... to anyone who will listen. Hovering like annoying flies over dung,  until we swat those thoughts away.

For most, we give up on a richer harvest because we  only see emotional defecation. Oh, but the haggard old agronomist knows different.  He sees the soil of the soul watered with each tear and uses the manure as fertilizer.  It is not a novel or new idea, it is simply a choice. Practical and useful.

The Seasons have changed,
Choose compassion.
It is the richest harvest of all.

Choose Love,
It is the only thing worth yielding.

Gardners

The power of now.... washing away the stain of yesterday. My eyes are opening up to a new vision.  True things brought to light.  Liberating the same caged wanderers.  What of this lifetime?  Gone in an instant.  Maybe we were lied to? Does it show in whatever you love?
What if you loved with no fear of abandonment? ? I will not keep from the best part of being alive because of fear. I choose love because it is the best part of living.  Perhaps,  it is the only way to grow our Souls in a desire for wholeness. Messy gardens,  yield much more fruit. Don't worry about getting your hands dirty. .. You are the Gardner

of your Soul!
 I will wait for you with flowers, celebrating your return to the power of now. ..  and all its possibilities.

Delusion

Traps dripping with nectar
Hungry birds and bees,
Obscured
Instinctual needs,
Lured
To sleep.

Awakened 
Wings heavy with shame
Caught in the web
The pain
The lie.





"Getting rid of a delusion makes us wiser than getting hold of a truth."
Ludwig born

 

Breakfast at Jalisco's

I sat and sipped my morning fix, cáfe con leché... waiting for the Senorita's to bring my taco's.

He slowly approached the register with a crumpled ticket, pale green with a smudge of grease. His eyes tired with gray edging the brown color ... he spoke even slower than he walked but his gentleness pierced the morning fog. She lit up to hear him tell her how he had two teeth pulled and how he has not been able to eat till today. She, young enough to be his great grand daughter, with hair combed back tight, darker than an oil slick, rich and smooth, pulled back in a pony.

He knew her by name and she smiled at him with a gentleness and respect that filled the room...  that exchange of energy between them spilled over me, (exceeding the cup of coffee jolt) -- an accidental Grace, unexpected and in the least likely of places. Gracias a Dios.

That we may hear

"We are members of the human race." -Thomas Merton

Our job is to love people, one person at a time, and to cultivate enough interior silence right where we are so that our presence becomes a respite from the ever-increasing din, and for those few who manage to “hear” our silence, we can function as living icons of the mystery, inviting them — and everyone — into a restful place where anything might be possible.

So what does this have to do with a a daily prayer practice, a commitment to reciting the Psalms or lectio divina or centering prayer or any other kind of formal practice? I think the only real answer here is “it depends.” Each individual, or family, or small community, will have to work out its own way of daily nurturing intimacy with God and the cultivation of contemplative silence. Back to Merton: “I have no program for this seeing. It is only given. But the gate of heaven is everywhere.” There is no program, no method, no required liturgy. We are simply called into the presence of God, in silence and solitude, in the midst of the city. How do we respond to this call? One breath at a time. -- Carl McColman

So, what happens when we fail miserably to love other- unconditionally? What of that? When our inner pain and broken selves keep us from loving who and what we are? What then??

Carl says it best... "There is no program, no method... We are simply called into the presence of God, in silence and solitude... One breath at a time."

Each breath a gift... Spirit teach us to see God everywhere.

Delizza

NEVER AGAIN

salt falls
on ink blue ocean
like bullets
in slow motion
deafening sound
Soul can not drown-
machine gun
angry stacatto
death of a love song.

RAMPARTS

There you are
Still telling me what to do.
So here i am
Not waiting for you...


There is no invisible string
Tied too thin-
Only the Wind
Blowing where She wants to sing.

Like Swayze said
I'm a young- old -Man...

Still -Waking up is the plan
I never do the best i can.

Thank you for this exercise-
Learning is always a surprise...

Letting go into the fall
These walls,
Not too tall at all.