As in the night from a window
a light far off
throws a shadow long…
the soul can’t be separated
from the joy of the heart,
none can rein it in!
the day of light and the sleeping
night are not one and the same.
As in the night from a window
a light far off
throws a shadow long…
the soul can’t be separated
from the joy of the heart,
none can rein it in!
the day of light and the sleeping
night are not one and the same.
“She binds the world’s innermost core together,
sees all its workings and its seeds,
deals no more in words’ empty deeds…”
No cool philosopher, he,
But speaks his mind:
“What made it such an enriching experience?
discussing this subject with her—?
it had to be, the commonality…
the single most important feeling of
LOVE…
….the solution to all life’s problems..
she proved love resides in the human heart…!
There is one word that describes her: all-embracing!
She not only teaches in a priestly way…but
having taught..…loves…
and what more could one want?
Her air, her aspect, her look
could change a cynic !!”
She asks herself:”What connects
the stars?”
He continues: “She inspires—the essence
of her teaching is friendship!
Her thought—based on the ideas that sustain—
would have peoples and nations
and universes
move in harmony—“
She responds, “Do not assume too much: I
always will be true to myself.
You must neither expect
nor exact anything inhumane of me—
for you will not get it,
any more than I freely give.”
He says, “Every atom
of her is as dear to me as my own: in pain and sickness it would still be so!
So let me sing:
‘Her coming was my hope each day,
Her parting was my pain;
The chance that did her steps delay
Was ice in every vein.’ “
The Little Samaritan
She understands the heart of the wounded …
Being young she’s also brave, and as childish
as many…moved by curiosity and affections, and self motivated as some … tries to be true to what she can grasp … feels, and so suffers…
How can some live in careless security?
Children must endure hearts beating fast!
The sun is down…shadows creeping over the wide, mighty forest
its creatures
crawling…feeding … eating
An echo travels through the wild woods
A threshing machine cuts through the air demanding to be heard.
Harvest time!
Miles, miles—yet so near…
ants carry food
and their dead
to their hills where all will sleep
deep in the anthill…silently, so still!
Always a knit of identity…
Listen to the beginning…
Who is that who comes out
of the wilderness?
An innocent child
walks unheard
out of the dark forest
onto the highway—
her shadow follows
slowly behind …
her mouth filled with wild strawberries , the fruit
is sweet to her taste… hunger stilled.
In the distance a man comes out of a cornfield …
But whose?
He is from the village
holding low his right hand
bleeding, bleeding, dripping blood—
wrapped in a hankerchief.
An owl cries—
and swoops by…
That winged bird of wisdom
flies high into the dim sky
flooded with billions, billions of stars,
shining bright.
The child walks up to him,
takes his left hand and together they walk down the steep hill. She calmy gives …as is given.
Gently speaking to his fears,
she lets him hear her prayer.
They step to the side—
a delivery truck moving fast!
The man lifts his bleeding-hand…
the driver honks…but doesn’t see
and is gone!
The man reaches down and holds the child’s hand tightly.
A monk along the other side of the road passes by
on a bicycle—
as fast as the wind!
Apparently he is late to ring the bells.
The child and the man reach the bottom of the highway
and cross a little river.
The clear water gurgles noisily…
they enter the busy village
“I’lI take you to my mother”
the child says …stepping towards a vision!
They are told to go to the house of a nurse—
a kind woman
who will give a glass of fresh water for each to drink.
She unwraps the bloody hankerchief,
and cleans his wound
by pouring wine over it…
ah, some relief!
The chill of the night becomes less…crickets chirp tirelessly
a pain must cease!
She takes a large orange out of a basket,
speedily peals it and gives it to him.
He breaks off a small slice
and gives it to the child
before devouring the rest.
The nurse asks for the name of the farmer he works for, and writes a note. He puts it into his pocket and smiles at her, and bowing deeply steps out…
Now a hay barn stacked high
with hay, makes a nice bed to rest in! It is his place
to dream…
Dogs bark…
Weeks go by!
The harvest is over…
the village ready for winter… is icy cold!
rain pouring
the roads are in deep mud
creatures and children groaning
as loud as the wild, wild wind…
Mother
serves a chicken noodle soup.
Once the meal finished, time to slumber—
a little pillow
is tucked
under the child’s head…
dry flowers from last summer
smell sweetly
and a deep sleep…. for more than forty winks!
voices whisper
Tell me, dearest, whom my soul loves
Where are you around noon?
Our rest place is green … filled with flowers.
Expect a great harvest,
truly the rain and the light are sweet, and
pleasant for the eyes to behold.
O sun!
If we live many years and are glad …
remember there is darkness too…
All, dear, is just vanity!
Let your heart cheer,
and walk in the ways-of your heart,
know this in the clear way of sight of the eye:
because you are wise, and thus give the people
knowledge, yes, you give good advice, my love!
The poet sought out acceptable words:
and has written upright—words of truth
to remove sadness from the heart!
Life has meaning when we live
in the right relation with God, therefore
remove regrets and sorrow from your mind,
and put away evil from the flesh:
for the sensual years are vanity.
Tell me, whom my soul loves …
you are the rose of eternity,
and the lily of stretched out wide valleys:
as flowers among thorns.
Who is this that comes out
of the wilderness
like a pillar of smoke?
The pillar of trust like a wind of the north
changing into the breeze of the south—
blow on me!
Set me as a seal upon your heart,
love is as strong as death:
for jealousy is cruel as the grave,
the coals of fire,
which has a most vehement flame:
Tears cannot cool the heat of sensual love,
neither can they drown in cold floods:
if a man would give his house for love,
it would be utterly contained.
God does not see evil,
the horror
comes from personalizing evil,
the fear of God is just fear~~~.
Good vision brought me to a door,
when I looked through a hole in the wall,
there …
I heard a voice, “Go behind the wall!“
and I saw everything;
creeping things,
and wild beasts,
portrayed on the wall round about!
The living creatures ran
and returned as the appearance
of a flash of lightning
that they were lifted up.
And there was a voice from the firmament!
I was assured of God’s love,
my heart rested!