Birthing Beauty

Cross-Weave

Posted in Birthing Beauty, Featured

Cross-Weave

In each of us there are such awesome potentials, such grandeurs, hope ever rekindling. Let that light ever burn in me, as at this moment. Fresh as morning, filled with the breeze of the morrow which so often billows our sails till the spars creak, the canvas-weave stretches fine, and the lines are so taught as to sing in the wind. Deep notes, breeze notes, the natural hum of the earth in rotation, while the moon tugs and dances in its arms. A loving universal dance all expressed in this one breeze one boat one set of sail. And when once again my sails should luff and pop in directionless gusts, let me remember the wind and splash the gleam of the sun in dazzling array just over there. If I understand this wind and its recurrence, we will be there soon enough. Not to collect those gemstones but to treasure the joyous dip of a prow perfectly designed to cleave these waters, To break the chop and clap of contrary ripple Till we reach that spot that spot on the horizon So full of light and good reflectance, at play with such intimations of childhood buried recollection of innocent days, when that same gleam called out to our hearts with unmistakable glory Called and tugged irresistibly on heartstrings stretched to the limits of vision. Here now that same horizon, here today. Only our heartstrings have been shortened. Stretch out! Stretch out! my heartstrings. Like the silken cross-weave of spiders’ web, catching the morning dew, in its turn to catch the golden glorious morning light. Stretch out! Stretch out! and let the wet settle on this weave, till each new drop, heavy with the accumulated contribution of each misty droplet, stretches itself, magnifying its own small frame of the distant perspective in a gleaming fleeting yearning grasp towards the earth Then falling, round again, to meet its appointed place on this earth. Stretch out, my heartstrings and capture the mists which would pass otherwise unnoticed and uneventful, Never to gather or share in meaning. Gather the mists of this life in unique reunion. ttorus...

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Double Identity

Posted in Birthing Beauty

Double Identity

We are two, you and I of soil, and the divine. Each day the combative pull of two separate worlds begins anew. I am of the ground, of dust and filled with the light, of life. The soil calls to me a song of mountains and craggy rock the roughened surface of schist, and granite a childhood clambor over a face of stone. The heavens beckon with clouds of white and open skies of blue the colors of innocence a dream of some other place where we all belong lit from beyond fringed and infused with light. We are two, you and I of the soil, and divine. I have known the joys of earth and sensed, somehow, the More. You have known the guidance and the prompting of unseen hands intent on good. You and I have come together to celebrate in a song of earth and sky. You and I together are two in one. Today again we will know once again the interplay of heaven and earth. We will wish the best for our sister grow angry with our brother and at day’s end reflect. We have done well done no harm, only good with the guiding hand, and the balance of heaven, and earth. Jesu, you instill a heart of forgiveness infuse it into our common culture foundation of our shared humanity. Dust and water you are the building blocks of which we are divinely constructed infused edge to edge with the light of life. We are two, you and I earthy and divine collected in one carriage and drawn by one powerful steed on the road to a horizon alight with morning’s glow. Breaks now the dawn with wonder and all things are possible. Our destiny and purpose await.  ...

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