Poem – How to get sober.

One moment at a time, not one day.
At the beginning, a day is too long
too stretched out,
too scary.

At the beginning an hour feels like an eternity
packed with uncertainty
and dread.

At the beginning of our coming
to consciousness,
of our coming
back to ourselves,
even an hour is too long.

That is why we got high, got stoned, got drunk.
The day stretched out before us with
more questions than answers,
more problems than solutions.

We are adults in name only.
We were shortchanged
on the skills
to be human.

We have to relearn
and unlearn
a lot.

It is hard, this being human.

It is why we ran away
for so long.

Just like a person who was born with legs
but never used them,
We have to be patient with the process.

We have to relearn how to walk
when we never learned in the first place.
We have to relearn how to live
when we never learned in the first place.

We have to be patient with ourselves.

Patience isn’t one of our strengths though.

We were raised by a world that taught
“Get rich quick”
“You deserve it”
And instant enlightenment,
no waiting.

So now what?

Breathe.
Go for a walk
outside.
Soak up the sun
or the cold
or the rain.

Be open to what is
right now,
not what you want it to be
not what you think
it should be.

This is a time of relearning
what it is to be

Alive.
Awake.
Aware.

Just like a person who has spent
her life in a cave,
going outside is painful.
The light is too bright.
The sounds are too loud.
Nothing is familiar.
Nothing is comforting.

Don’t go back
to the cave.
Don’t go back
to being asleep.

Take a small step.
Acclimate.

Take another
when you are ready.

No hurry.

You can sit outside that cave mouth for a long time.

You don’t have to go running
because if you go too far too fast
you’ll fall
and retreat
back to that cave.

Slow and steady does it.

A lot of getting sober
is unlearning.

You aren’t alone
in this process.

We are all unlearning
and relearning
what it means to be ourselves.

You are beautiful. You are needed. You are loved.
And you can do this.

Poem – names

We have
this idea
of naming
different rivers –
yet
they all flow together.
They are really
just
different parts
of
the same thing.

There is
the same
with a set of woods –
they are all trees,
yet
they are all
the same.

How about we
think of
people
the same way?

Different names,
but the same Source,
and the same
destination.

Poem – Body

The Body is strong enough for everybody,
even the misfits, the oddballs.
There is a space for everybody
in the Body of Jesus.

We are all welcomed
We are all blessed.
We are all sacred.
We are all kissed
by the tears of Jesus.

He welcomes us,
includes us,
even though we don’t feel worthy.

We are to do likewise
to the rest,
to the forgotten,
to the forsaken.

We are to include
the excluded.

We are to embrace
the unloved.

Go and do likewise.

Poem – intersection (the thin places)

Here we are again.
How many times have you seen the connection
between the worlds?

These are the thin places.
The edges.
The margins.

These are the places where
there
meets here.

These are the times
when you
and I
meet.

There isn’t a mark on the map
for these places
no thumbtack to tell us
where to go.

We are blazing our own trails here.
We are making our own maps.

We are ready for anything,
and we haven’t even packed a lunch.

These moments can happen anywhere.
The thin places are
all around us.

The Greyhound station.
The pool at the Y.
The corner table at the Steak n Shake.
The deli counter at Publix.

God is just waiting to break forth
Shining
into this world
wherever
and whenever
possible.

Poem – Message

It’s like God
stops you on the street
to hand you a message
and your hands are full
and your pockets are full
and you are late
to a doctor’s appointment.

But it is God
so you want to take the message
so you put down your plastic sacks
because you went shopping
on the way to the doctor’s office
and the lines were long
and that is why you are late

and now your hands are free
but your coat is hard to unbutton
and you want to unbutton it
because you want to put the message
in the
inner pocket
of the coat
so it will be safe
and not get smudged
or lost.

I’d rather not
be like this.

I’d rather be checking in
all the time,
saying
Here I am God.
Do you have any messages
for me?
All the time
not just accidentally
not leaving it so God
has to tackle me
or bump
into me
on the street
for me to
stop
long enough to give God my time.

Poem – Poets are born in the strangest of homes.

Poets are born in the strangest of homes.

Grapes, before they are jelly, are happier.
They don’t know the pain of becoming.

I’ve heard that
the blue fish flies at night
so no one can see it.

It is afraid of being found out.
No one knows it is blue.

On Thursdays,
when the moon is full,
we swim outdoors
hoping to see it.

The light of the moon
makes her scales shine
so merrily.

Only a groundhog can kiss a saint.
The dirt of honesty smudges its nose.
Deep in the soil, deep in the soul,
The Earth’s potatoes watch the stars.

There is something about dirt,
about being unseen,
here.

We are all hiding our true nature,
even from ourselves.

Sometimes what we need
is the slow soft lights
of the evening
to show the way
to ourselves.

They aren’t so bright.
We don’t have to wince
and wink
like we do
in the glare of the sun.
In the evening’s glow we can be
ourselves,
fearless.

Poem – dog eyes.

We are like
old dogs
with cataracts.

Eyes glazed over,
grey film haze,
we wander
unseeing,
automatically,
by habit.

We know our paths.

As long as
nothing changes
we are good.

As soon as
something happens
we hit our heads.

We’ve gotten so used to
our lives being the same
that they have
become the same

We no longer use our eyes.
They’ve become vestigial.
They’ve become unnecessary.

We no longer see
anything.

We no longer notice
that nothing is
ever the same.

Lord, I ask for new eyes
for all of us
that we may see
Your creation
anew.
Give us the eyes of a new day
of beginning
of hope
of trust,
that we may become
truly alive
again.

Amen.

Poem – the green tree in our hearts

There is a
green tree in my heart
and in finding it
I have found another way.

Remember what you are?
Your body is the source of a
stream wider than memory,
deeper than tears.

Even if you forget
that you were once
a frog swimming
in your mother’s dreams
you’ll remember this.

Look for the source
and you’ll find the tree

taller than daydreams
deeper than bones
it grows
inside your heart.

From it issues the
blueprint,
the skeleton,
the framework
of who you are.

It is your
beginning
and
the way forward.

It provides your base
from which to grow.

Water it well,
little frog.
It will sing to you
when nobody else will.

Poem – being human

However they are hungry
we have to love them.

However they are empty
we have to hold them.

We can’t fill them
with ourselves.
To empty out
our answers
only serves to
empty us

And leave them wanting
more.

More love
and less
answers.

It is about honoring
the person’s own path
rather than trying to
put them onto yours.

It isn’t about your game
or your name.

What works for you
isn’t going to work for them

because they aren’t you.

So just love them
right where they are.

 

(This poem is now published in my 6th book, entitled “Images of God”.  It is available in both color and a less expensive black and white versions. My books are available through Amazon.)

(I’ve noticed that this little poem gets a lot of readers.  Please share with me what drew you to it, and if it was of help to you.  Thanks!)

Poem – Temple

The Temple has been rebuilt.
It isn’t in the ruins.
It isn’t blocks of stone.

It is here.
Where you are.
You, yes you
are the centerpoint
the axis
the hinge.

We all are.
There is no second coming
happening from the skies.
The second coming is private.
It won’t be televised.
Just like the first one wasn’t.

Just like the first one it
will be
quiet, and unexpected
and sudden
and joyous and scary
at the same time.

Just like the first one
it will be in a backwater town
on the edge
on the verge.

It happens every time
someone wakes up
to the Light
and invites it in
to stay.

The second coming is now
and it’s all around
you.

Slowly the lights are coming on
all over.

God cannot be contained
in a building
made by human hands
which can be
broken into.

The only safe place for God
is everywhere.

Don’t follow any person
who says they’ve got it
and you don’t.
Because if they say that,
they don’t have it
at all.