Sunday, August 20, 2017

The Gate of Heaven is Everywhere


“The gate of heaven is everywhere.” Thomas Merton

I can hear your soft breath,
gentle strains of music

the easy breeze
nudges the curtains

and peace flows
across my skin
like cool water.

But soon impatient dusk
will overtake bright day

when the sun dims
in the dark grip
of eclipse, and ancient
terror thrills even
the most
comprehending mind;

for this is when
metaphore
overtakes fact,

and unknown stars glint
in the afternoon sky.

We never knew
they were hanging so low,

diamonds in deep
caverns,

new light!

(27 Nov 2012: 21 Aug 2017)

Friday, August 4, 2017

Continuum

Photo: Brian Federle, Salton Sea, Dec. 2016

My breath rises
to the edge of space
and pauses
at the nexus of perfection,

then falls,
driven by waves of fire, 
by strong hands guided 
through dust and rain, 
through ice, through
the shining
vortex

to my upturned face
where a single drop dies
and fills me with
the storm's desire.

(Posted 2012.  Revision 8/2017)

Tuesday, August 1, 2017

Light, directly infused


Photo Brian Federle, Sunset at Carlsbad, Jan. 2016


“Faith reaches the intellect not through the senses
 but in a light directly infused by God.” Thomas Merton

Rising from the sea
 death’s veil
overwhelms me.

Brief day fails,
fills the sky
with starry sails

wandering planets,
moonbeams
cold and bright –

holy spirit
of faithful night.

(2012: 2017)

Sunday, July 30, 2017

Communion

“And the deepest level of communication is not communication, but communion. It is wordless. It is beyond words, and it is beyond speech, and it is beyond concept . . . . what we have to recover is our original unity. What we have to be is what we are.” 
Asian Journal of Thomas Merton,

I see the world

as it is, as I think
itis, as I want it
to be:

bright mornings,
shimmering lawns, trees glowing
golden as night dissolves
to glaring day.

I hear mourning doves,
raucous crows, roar of lawn-mowers,
distant whisper
of traffic

and believe these prove
that I alone can end a night
of anxious dreams
with quick breath and
eyes wide open.

But one day, stepping
through terminal veils of pain,
startled, pulling back the black curtain,
in the unexpected rush of ecstasy,
I’ll discover the truth:

my never-ending
communion with
You.

Saturday, July 29, 2017

Soft July



since you've been gone the days
are silent

except for the rush of wind
in our apple tree.

See how the fruit hangs
heavy, pulling low
the branches;
ready.

so I’ll wait in the shade
of soft July
and think
of you.

(9 July 2014; revised 7/29/2017)