I am letting my Self pollute my experience of life more than usual, lately.
Puppeteering my relationships so that I see only strings.
Hearing only the pitch of my voice when I sing.
Feeling only the unstirred beat of my heart when I pray.
I want to see people when I interact with them.
I want to listen to the entire choir.
I want another to stir my heart.
Self is a big mean ole bully, wrestling gentle Spirit to the ground, pretending to be unaware that he needs Spirit to be truly real, truly fulfilled...pretending not to know that he is weaker.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Heirloom
The market on the eastern slope surveys A place in Minnesota that I love: Looks past the barns, past where the tire swing sways, And the far...
-
The cranberry red minivan had acquired a shimmy in recent years--a fact that its driver, Abraham, regarded in much the same way he regarded ...
-
It's already mid-June, and here I am in Hudsonville (the library--my oldest, dearest haunt), bereft of full time employment, my life a s...
-
"We rarely consider the soul's excellent qualities or who it is that dwells within her or how precious she really is. And so we do...
1 comment:
ms.
did you write that beautiful little thing?
Post a Comment