Wordless Wednesday

kaaimans river


Stumbled into love

Happy 75th Birthday, Richard Rohr…
“Like the wind, the Spirit blows where it will (John 3:8). There has been more than enough wind at my back—and more than enough seeing and encountering of Love—for all of these 75 years. All of it was given, never acquired, merited, or even fully understood. I just stumbled into Love again and again. And was held by it.”
― Richard Rohr


I’m in a tempest,
the wind at my back,
stumbled into love,
seen light through the crack!

When I wasn’t looking,
grace found me,
I was held by devotion,
in an affectionate sea.

Broken and bruised,
ruined by life,
I’m being reconfigured,
by His glorious design.


Grief can have a quality of profound healing
because we are forced to the depth of feeling
that is usually below the threshold of awareness.
― Stephen LevineA Year to Live: How to Live This Year as If It Were Your Last
the veil

And when the nights
are just too long
and I can’t get up
and my wounds leak out,
I look through the crack in the curtains
and I see the rising son
and he looks back at me as if
I’m the first Earthling he sees..

This dreadful night gets vaporized
in the radiance of another day.

The haze of my mind meanders
down the hallway,
contrite of thinking.
I begin to hope
and then I wonder if they’ll think me mad
when I tell them
he’s right here with me.

Will they think me a crazed fool when I say
I heard him call in the early hours
before dawn,
or will they just put it down to
and hallucinations of a sorrowful mind?

Will they feel a welling up of pity
inside their unspoiled lives?
Their judgement will lie in my bones,
not wanting to be voiced!

I’m hoping this narrative
will go away,
and let me cry alone
so that I may feel no regret for these,
my crystal tears,
while Angels
hold my dolorous form.

The “other world” I talk about could be
bizarre to those who don’t know
grief’s desire,
and have never tasted the bitter waters
of despair.

But then I hear his voice again,
this time more quietly,
somewhere in the region of my heart
and he’s saying
“forgive them;
they have never gone
beyond the pale
of this outrageous suffering you have lived!”

“It’s not their world you live in anymore,
it’s much more bright and beautiful
and filled with dragonflies
and sparkling waters
and patterns in the cosmos”.

“Because you see,
now that I am no longer Earth bound,
you will forever
try to find me among pebbles
on the golden sands,
and you will search for me in the forests
where trees
love to whisper my name.”

“Keep inhaling the elements,
and keep seeing those extravagant emanations
that makes this Universe
our beloved home.”

“It’s a world of dreamers
and most Earthlings
cannot see that astonishing sparkle on the waters
or the iridescent color of a pristine sky,
because like you
they are not seeing
through grief’s eyes of awareness.”

To drink each droplet of an atmosphere
that holds sacredness,
only seen by those who know
how thin the veil is
between these worlds.

I cherish the air that occupied
his form and I kiss the ground
of such belonging.

As I walk on treasure trails into the unknown,
I have discovered sights and sounds,
that were always there.
I’m occupying them now,
with more intention
and with an intensity of great love,
not lost,
just changed.

Connecting supernaturally
with those who have been split wide open by
it’s a beautiful thing!

I’m following the Braille method
of sustenance,
and staying close to intuition,
yet I’m seeing clearly
with the eyes of my heart,
a gossamer pathway set before me.

Holding grace with both hands, I’m dazzled by flawless vistas,
I’m binding up my wounds
in the soft light
of acceptance.

And it’s not to say
that this great sadness has passed.
It has plunged deeper
into my being,
and resides now, in a holy place,
allowing me to feel,
to be heard,
it chants out loud on lonely nights,
it swallows my tears.
No pretense is necessary
in chambers where sorrow breathes…

I’m indigenous to this land that had almost forgotten me!


That you’re lost lonesome heart might learn to cry out
for the true intimacy of love that waits to take you home
to where you are known and seen and where your life is treasured
beyond every frontier of despair you have crossed.
― John O’Donohue


over and over in my mind,
i searched hallways
utterly blind,
but found no single trace of you,
abandoned and alone
i knew…

on corridors of
aimless nightmares,
with ghastly creatures everywhere,
just darkness and an empty void,
i found my life was near destroyed.
the tears they fell
in streams of praise,
as though it was the end of days…

i caught a glimpse
in holy realms,
where fear and brokenness compels…

this over-thinking
i exhaled,
a broken life in each detail…

forgetting to return to silence,
prostrate again in sacred guidance…

on highways of grace i find,
the place i nearly lost my mind…

You left a trace….

“All you can depend on now is that
Sorrow will remain faithful to itself.
More than you, it knows its way
And will find the right time
To pull and pull the rope of grief
Until that coiled hill of tears
Has reduced to its last drop.”
― John O’DonohueTo Bless the Space Between Us: A Book of Blessings

lapp around my feet

Even though I can’t see you,
you whisper in the trees.
The waves of longing lap my feet,
your laugh lingers on the breeze.
I won’t let days fly past,
that I don’t memorize your face,
from earthen wounds
you left a trace…

For you are the wind
on the loveliest of days,
and you are the flowers
fluttering along the way….

You send the birds
and I sit a while;
you walk beside me on the longest mile….

And when tears flow,
you’re sorry for my loss,
over the greatest chasm,
into light you crossed….

And from the other side,
you watch me
come and go,
Your light guides me
with its radiant glow,
because from where you are
all beings are set free,
and you’ve encountered more
than my mind can perceive…..