I am the great sun

I am the great Sun, but you do not see me. 
I am your Husband, but you turn away. 
I am the Captive, but you do not free me. 
I am the Captain you will not obey. 
I am the Truth, but you will not believe me. 
I am the City, where you will not stay. 
I am your Wife, your Child, but you will leave me. 
I am that God, to whom you will not pray. 
I am your Counsel, but you do not hear me. 
I am the Lover, whom you will betray. 
I am the Victor, but you do not cheer me. 
I am the Holy Dove, whom you will slay. 
I am your Life, but you will not name me. 
Seal up your soul with tears and never blame me. 

Charles Cosley, Norman Crucifix, 1632.

Photo by small circle big circle

How wonderful by Irving Feldman

Photo by small circle big circle

How wonderful to be understood,
to just sit here while some kind person
relieves you of the awful burden
of having to explain yourself, of having
to find other words to say what you meant,
or what you think you thought you meant,
and of the worse burden of finding no words,
of being struck dumb . . . because some bright person
has found just the right words for you—and you
have only to sit here and be grateful
for words so quiet so discerning they seem
not words but literate light, in which
your merely lucid blossoming grows lustrous.
How wonderful that is!
And how altogether wonderful it is
not to be understood, not at all, to, well,
just sit here while someone not unkindly
is saying those impossibly wrong things,
or quite possibly they’re the right things
if you are, which you’re not, that someone
—a difference, finally, so indifferent
it would be conceit not to let it pass,
unkindness, really, to spoil someone’s fun.
And so you don’t mind, you welcome the umbrage
of those high murmurings over your head,
having found, after all, you are grateful
—and you understand this, how wonderful!—
that you’ve been led to be quietly yourself,
like a root growing wise in darkness
under the light litter, the falling words.

Let it go by Danna Faulds

the sea
photo by small circle big circle

Let it go
Let go of the ways you thought life would unfold:
the holding of plans or dreams or expectations–Let it all go.  Save your strength to swim with the tide.
The choice to fight what is here before you now will
only result in struggle, fear, and desperate attempts
to flee from the very energy you long for.  Let go.
Let it all go and flow with the grace that washes
through your days whether you received it gently
or with all your quills raised to defend against invaders.
Take this on faith; the mind may never find the
explanations that it seeks, but you will move forward
nonetheless.  Let go, and the wave’s crest will carry
you to unknown destinations.  Let it all go and find the place of
rest and peace and certain transformation.
–Danna Faulds

Lost

cropped-img_04001.jpg

photo by small circle big circle

Lost by David Wagoner

Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you.
If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.

— David Wagoner
(1999)