Awakening

“that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams.” Acts2:17

 

The fires that embody my very being!

 

How the searing that flickers at the edges of my humanity drives me poorly through the desert

 

Blindly I grope for the  rarity wound in vines of Creation which slithers out of my reach.

 

How the lapping of distant pools pains the delicacy of my hearing!

 

If I would, with all my lasting strength, the life essence would be forced from my veins

 

But I am futile in my efforts, since my sight is obstructed by the translucent fires that tease and twist before me!

 

Leave me be!

 

How my spirit trembles endlessly as it gathers

 

Pulsating with fear within my heart

 

How the paleness of my skin quakes with the beauty that radiates

 

Weeping, I wait for the blessed darkness to engulf me, to consume

 

Speak

 

From the depths of what I do not know, a command

 

Speak

 

The rawness that has consumed my throat struggles to voice knowledge

 

The trembling within as the ruby red drips even nearer

 

Open your eyes to the light of heaven, you who are ashes of ashes

 

Speak

 

The winds rolled once empty husk shell, covering me in a rush of cold clarity

 

Newness in the soft of my gaze opened to the Light of Heaven

 

Speak of the Knowledge of God, O Woman

 

Naked I rose, exposed to all Creation

 

Rising from ashes of ashes falling from the strangeness of my hands

Cradle of Our Beginnings

“and the second  person of the Trinity is our Mother in nature, in our substantial creation in whom we are founded and rooted.”  Julian of Norwich, Showings.

How blessed we remain!

Within the darkness of the infinite schism

How Mother wrapped the Universe in a transcendent fabric

With caring arms

There was a rhythm that weaved the beginnings of creation

How the Mother’s love rained down into this emptiness

The frozen tears twinkling

Comforted did she enfold us

Her arms never far from within our soul’s grasp.

Patient through the workings of her tiredless hands

Cupping close and speaking Creation, calling Life

Calling us forth through the deepness of tunnels

Pulling us forward into the brilliance of Life

Under her watchful gaze, we twist, gasping and struggling

Under her watchful gaze we crawl, clawing and thriving

Fierceness casts the gale of Her anger

Shadows of malevolence piercing unwanted into the fragility of our hearts

And yet the Mother weeps for Her children

For children who rise filthy, obstinate staring into the sharpness of Her gaze

Shaking fists and spewing forth vileness against the mercy which without ending rains down

Because the Mother weeps, even as we weep, even as we writhe in pain

Whispers that flood the chambers of our weak hearts

Finding ourselves awash in grief for turning away, hiding

Hiding from the Glory of God, damned for our sin

Ignorant to mercy, ignorant to the cries

Echoed on that rough, rude cross

So we wander through the vastness of a starless sky

Beating the bareness of the earth

And yet, our cries do not go unheaded

O for the sweetness that descends, swirling around our worn tattered shells.

Grace abounds as the Mother sweeps us once more

In the contentment of Her embrace, once again that infinite darkness

Our eyes weary as the rhythm of that unending, ancient, endless rhythm of Her heart lulls

Soothes the coarseness of our humanity with Her unconditional Love

Binding us forever more to Her sacred breast.

Mysticism

The poems that I have written are dedicated to themes that grounded the mystics in their work during their lifetime. “Cradle of Our Beginnings” speaks to the theme of God and Christ as Mother that Julian of Norwich wrote about in her writings-Showings. “The Awakening” is in regards to the spiritual fiery awakening that traveled with Hildergard of Bingen throughout her life until she realized what these visions meant and connected with her very being. “Prayers without Ceasing” speaks to the four modes of prayer that St. Teresa of Avila taught so that even the common people would be able to have conversations with the divine.  “Breathing Life into Freedom” takes us to the mystic experiences of Martin Luther and the divine experience he had with Scripture itself, bringing him to the understanding that we are justified through grace by faith guiding him to bring this Good News to the people who were being undermined by the Catholic Church and the papacy.