Continuation of Journal 4 11_16_22
I’m working my way through the stack of journals, hoping there’s something of redeeming value.
The Witches Wood
This piece is also in the Brothers of Change anthology. It’s a good fun scary piece.
I went a walking in the woods,
one night by the full moons light.
And came upon a strange , strange scene,
that filled my soul with fright.
I saw witches and warlocks
in the deep, deep woods.
In the dark, dark night,
wearing black, black hoods.
Up in the sky,
there was a full, full moon.
I heard a low, soft chant,
and a deep strange tune.
A fire’s now a-cracklin,
as the dark forms dance.
A chill breeze brings down
a deep dark trance.
By the fire there’s an altar
of thirteen stones,
six white skulls,
and nine bleached bones.
Then I heard the bleating
of scared little calf.
a drum beat beating,
a blood curdling laugh.
Witches dancing down,
an evil, awful spell.
Bringing now to rule and bear
the powers dark of hell.
The full moon now is overhead,
the fire blazes hot.
Stirring then the magic brew,
in a blackened iron pot.
The little cow then bawls in fear.
It’s sacrificed and bled.
They drink a little, spill a little,
and put some on their head.
And I am watching all of this,
peering through the wood.
The witches in their demon dance,
up to nothing good.
Then all of a sudden,
they cease their dance and song.
“Someone must be watching”.
“Someone’s here, something’s wrong”.
The witches looking for me,
they sense that I am near.
I turn and flee so swiftly,
in terror, yes, and fear.
The robes in black behind me,
twigs breaking, hear the sound.
Coyote the a howling,
and my heart begins to pound.
But I flee the haunted forest,
and safely home I dash.
I close, and lock, and bolt the door.
Flashing lightening, thunder crash.
I made it safely home that night.
and so say a thankful prayer.
Yes, I’ve seen the witches dancing.
So let me tell you now beware.
So I’ve promised to pray every day,
and to go to church, be good.
And on the nights when the moon is full,
Stay out of the witches wood.
So I’ve promised to pray every day,
and to go to church, be good.
And on the nights when the moon is full,
I stay out of the witches wood.
Patriots Prayer
I don’t want clashing minor chords,
pessimism,
hallucinations,
and runny noses.
Rather,
I want robustness,
volumes of oxygen,
and red ruby cheeks.
I want fresh, tart apples,
and brilliant Indian Summer mornings.
Yes,
shiny pennies,
majestic mountains,
and cold, clean springs.
And resounding truth.
breaking forth,
from every rock and tree.
To hear our people rejoice
in joyous song.
Yes, I want an America reborn!
Prayer of Gratitude
I’m feeling very blessed today.
To be alive and well.
To be living for my dream.
I thank Thee Lord,
for these good days.
And ask Thou wouldst sustain them.
10-09-22 Mt.Savior
“There are places in the heart that do not yet exist, and suffering enters into them, that they might have existence”. Read the words of Thomas Dubay.
Proverb: Take care of your body. It’s owner is God. Lent to Mother Earth. And leased to you.
Proverb: Think of faith as fertile soil. Sacrifice as seed. And discipline as life’s root.
Proverb: One keeps so busy, trying to maintain an inner sense of calm.
Proverb: In the midst of darkness, I found the sun within myself.
Proverb: Faith is the bird that sings to the dawn while it is still dark.
Proverb: Those who say it cannot be done should not interrupt the person doing it.
Proverb: Nice guys come in last. And in so doing, save the world.
Revolution
The first revolution
is an internal revolution.
The purification
of one’s soul,
transcending
the desire to hoard wealth,
and the need for violence.
Then turning outward
is the saint
who battles in the spirit realm.
The artist and activist
who battles
in the social realm.
And the soldier who, if necessary,
will bear arms.
When we all begin,
to go beyond
what life requires.
When we all begin
to pray revolution,
think revolution,
and act revolution.
To go over and beyond,
Then revolution will be.
I Overheard
While visiting at Mt. Savior, one of the monks said of me, “He is trying to reinvent the hypostatic union”.
Time
Leaves falling,
time.
The planet spinning round.
Time.
The sound of steps on stone.
The beating of my heart.
Time.
The drip, drip, drip,
of water.
Lovers holding hands.
The ringing of chapel bells.
Prisoners behind bars.
Waiting for the train.
Running for the bus.
Time.
One generation born,
another dies.
Flowers bloom and fade.
Sunrise, sunset.
Punch in,
punch out.
Time.
The Asylum – A Lone Birds Song
My time on inpatient was an incredible learning experience. I learned to take responsibility for myself. And I learned the power of prayer. That my prayer does bear upon reality. Here my soul was fused to, married to God.
All through the winter’s,
cold black nights,
a single robin’s song.
A simple sign of grace,
and faith,
gave me hope,
kept me strong.
When I faced a living hell,
in my cell,
on my knees,
as the dawn was breaking,
A dove landed
on my window sill,
and called to me
“all will be well”.
From through my window,
on cold black nights,
out there on the concourse bleak,
abandoned buildings, halls of pain.
A lone birds song,
the silver chord.
The day is come,
my soul at peace.
Honesty
Before I type in this next poem, I must confess that I have not always been honest. There have been times, when hunting, that I’ve found myself sneaking around, and breaking rules. Under the crushing weight of circumstance, I’ve caught myself in a lie. More than once. Like a soldier at war. And then as a Catholic, taking the rite of reconciliation, and the sacrament of communion, in seeking forgiveness.
Honesty is light.
Honesty is a difficult burden.
Honesty heals wounds.
Honesty creates peace and joy.
Honesty creates friendships and alliances.
Honesty destroys darkness.
Honesty requires courage.
Honesty is sister to faith.
Honesty says what is wrong, peaceably.
Honesty says “I love you”.
Honesty is acceptable sacrifice.
Honesty strives to do right.
Honesty is hard worker, and diligent servant.
Honesty loves charity and generosity.
Honesty has no secret motives.
Honesty seeks the will of God.
Honesty accepts pain.
Honesty atones for it’s failings.
Honesty hates evil.
Honesty is of greater value than gold.
Honesty is the innocence of nature.
Honesty is a beautiful experience.
Honesty is a way of life.
God Knows
Time on the wards led to time in college. After college, Mom gave me 1,800.00 dollars for a used van. She told me I needed a vehicle to accomplish what was coming next. I gathered some tools, and went door to door asking for work in cleaning and gardening. I passed out fliers and mailed out letters. I took every job that came my way.
Then Sandra got behind me and bought me a set of equipment to clean floors and carpets. I worked it hard for a few years. Working nights, weekends and holidays, the stress was over the top. Though the money was good, I dismissed my cleaning clients, and focused on the gardening.
At this time Cousin Billy and I connected. He invited me down to Portageville to hunt. This sounded great, and I jumped at the opportunity. I’d heard the tales of past hunting adventure, from the cousins and uncles.
Learning to hunt, it was something I had always wanted to do. It was a life changing opportunity.
God knows.
It’s the day before deer season.
Will I kill a deer?
God Knows.
I’m trying a new gun.
Will it shoot true?
God Knows.
If it shoots well,
should I buy it?
God knows.
Will this week
work out well for all?
God Knows.
Will these people
in the country love me?
God knows.
Will I do my part?
God knows.
Will I bring home venison to Mom?
God knows.
Will love grow amongst us here?
God knows.
Will I meet a pretty lady here?
God knows.
Will seeds I plant
grow strong?
God knows.
Will I return home
strong and ready?
God knows.
Will there be life
for us all?
God knows.
God Knows.
God knows.
Please Daddy.
Please Daddy.
Please Daddy.
Please.
Proverb: A monk, reading at dinner, said, “a man should never boast, nor envy, nor challenge another”.
Advent Prayer
Bless my family, Lord,
and all my family’s friends.
Bless my friends, Oh Lord,
and all my friend’s families.
I thank Thee Lord,
for this year that has ended.
I thank Thee, Oh Lord,
for thy blessings in this year to come.
Little Story
A monk travelled to town to buy provisions for his monastery. It was a hard trip, and he was resting at the town square.
A young girl approached the monk as he leaned on his staff. She wondered about his frock and hood. A question came to her. She asked, hesitating, “Mr. Brother Monk, are you religious, are you saved”?
The monk looked down at her, his eyes sparkling. At this moment she was filled with joy. The achy stomach that had been with her left at that instant. She skipped away singing a joyous song.
The next day she saw the monk again. Again she approached him. This time she said, “Mr. Brother Monk, you didn’t answer my question”.
Breathe the Breath of God. New Year’s Resolutions 1997
To live life,
and redeem each day.
To pray hard,
work hard,
and intelligently.
To eat well,
meat and bread and vegetables.
To take sufficient rest.
To kiss beautiful women
on the mouth.
To make good music,
poetry,
and art work.
To thank God for all things,
good and bad.
To take good care of my health.
To fish and hunt.
To visit the sick.
To take time in culturing friendships.
To pray for courage,
strength,
and discernment.
To make my body,
mind,
and spirit
strong.
To take communion regularly,
and meditate in peace.
To help others.
To pray for deceased loved ones.
To cry my guts out,
once in awhile.
To laugh until I cry.
To be a good neighbor,
good brother,
good son.
To chant with the monks,
and praise God
from the mountaintop.
To be good.
Godly.
A son of God.
To tell beautiful women
they’re beautiful.
To swim in clean, fresh waters,
and build fires
in the woods, at night.
To calm the beast with music.
To let life be song,
and dance.
To seek the face of God.
To name the birds
as they fly above.
To sit in the woods,
and watch for signs of life.
To get in the best possible
physical shape.
To atone for my sins,
and do many good deeds.
To awaken!
And in so doing
awaken all around me!
To be a bright shining light.
To build trust,
in all my relationships.
To begin the study of the martial arts,
and to contemplate
the monastic life.
To plant a garden.
To pray at sunrise.
To make more money.
To be ready,
for war or peace,
snow or sun,
wind or rain.
To stand against violence,
and evil in all it’s forms.
To drink from springs.
To demonstrate clearly
how prayer makes you strong.
To schedule parties
on the full moon.
and rituals of atonement
on the new moon.
To be a good friend.
To send flowers
to the women I like.
To build powerful artwork.
To be a ready warrior,
and a good Catholic.
To drop in on the priests,
once in awhile.
To shine like a star.
To live life to it’s fullest
To be fully alive.
TO BREATHE THE BREATHE THE BREATH OF GOD.
Advice
Benefitting from church is like lighting a lamp. You have to be both plugged in and turned on.
Being plugged in is being there, in the church proper. Being turned on is having a humble, open, and expectant attitude. For surely you will be purified, empowered, and inspiried.
The Thundering Herd Jan. 1st 1997
Another year begins,
on this frozen wintry morn.
We’re warm and safe and dry here,
Outside a gathering storm.
I’d kick back in my easy chair,
to eat and drink and play,
but prophets are foretelling
of darkness on it’s way.
I pray angels watch over me.
That I be a man of might.
As dark and danger strengthen,
so strengthen may my light.
The wealthy fool is kicking back,
and says “we’ve got it made”.
But seers are saying, “watch it man”.
“There’s high cards to be played”.
If humankind refuses
to live with open eyes,
the day of fire cometh,
to burn down all our lies.
I make myself a stronger soul,
for these times may be quite near.
I cannot cease, nor shall I fail.
The thundering herd I hear.
I too would drift along,
ignore the prophets word.
But overhead the cold winds blow,
and I hear the Thundering Herd.
But overhead the cold wind blows,
and I hear the thundering herd.
Jan. 1997
To Patty, my first love. I was seventeen, you were sixteen.
I’d been away all summer. You stayed home.
When I got home, things were wrong. Something inside my soul was broken.
I wrote you a letter, to tell you how deeply I loved you. But you understood this letter to say that I wanted to end our relationship.
When you told me it was OK, if I wanted to break up, my heart sank, my guts clenched. I had no words.
I was not writing to end our relationship. I wrote that letter to tell you my love for you was beyond words.
I wish there was some way I could tell you this now.
Now, twenty five years later, I finally find the words.
There’s still an aching emptiness within.
I still love you, with my whole being.
And I want you to know, Patty,
I always will.
The teacher responded, “I fear that if I did not speak this way, that the earth would give way beneath me. And I would go plunging into the bottomless pit”.
Ripening Tree
The ripening tree,
fruits has three,
all in different seasons.
This tree is grace,
three gifts it bears,
for those who walks the garden.
These fruits shall nourish good,
and break apart,
strongholds of evil land sin.
Bring life to fruition.
Fulfillment and joy.
At long last, souls we win.
The first fruit borne
by this tree
is inner purification.
Now clean inside,
we see the hope
of peaceful revolution.
The second grace
of kindness ripens
goodwill and generosity.
Friendships dawn
and arm in arm,
foundation comes to be.
Upon the rock
of friendships strong,
the third fruit comes to be.
This is the sharing
of faith and love,
salvation, purity.
Gathering souls
unto the Lord,
is life full and complete.
We harvest them
in season,
and place them at His feet.
Never before
has today been lived,
we sculpt reality.
May the world
that we carve,
show bright these graces three.
Let us walk
the Garden then,
under this ripening tree.
To taste and know
these sacred seasons,
and fully come to be.
Let us walk
the Garden then,
under this ripening tree.
To taste and know
these sacred seasons,
and fully come to be.
Musicians
The musicians
changed the world.
maybe even
saved the world.
These lyrics led me home.
Chords
that crashed
in brilliance.
Audible light.
Melodies,
that wove my soul
into the fabric of paradise.
Shattering darkness,
with cunning rhythms,
harmonies,
and melodies.
Prophecy,
without pain,
unfolding in song.
Art and healing,
united,
when souls reflected
the “Great I Am”.
I almost
failed to notice,
that this was more than music.
It was healing of the Word.
Healing of the world.
Musician,
man of melody,
man of medicine,
man of mission,
play,
play,
play on!
Thought
A man died, and went before the Lord, at the great judgment table in Heaven. “Well’, said the Lord, what do you think you deserve, Heaven or Hell? “” Heaven” replied the man. “Well, did you go to church when you were alive on Earth below, asked the Lord?””I tried to”, said the man, “but they wouldn’t accept me, they wouldn’t let me in”.
“Hmmm” said the Lord, as he pondered for a brief second. “Well then welcome to Heaven”, He said. “I have the same problem with the churches on Earth below. They don’t accept me, they don’t let me in either”.
At Dawn in Heavens Land
I’ve crossed the raging waters,
escaped the chains of hell.
A second day is dawning,
though I hear no tolling bell.
It was far across the river,
a long, long way to go.
The rush of mighty waters,
that left me washed and cold.
The mists of dawn enshroud me,
in this world of life anew.
The birds of morning singing,
‘neath clearing skies of blue.
Now shivering on this distant shore,
I know not the way to go.
The old life far behind me,
now I stand alone.
I thought there’d be a feast day,
to celebrate, I’ve won.
But no one seems to be aware,
of the miracle that’s been done.
For I’ve been to hell and back,
and found my life, my soul.
And by the grace of Heaven’s God,
I’m healed, I’m well, I’m whole.
But instead of celebrations,
I find that I’m alone.
A sunrise, a beginning,
a mystery unknown.
Now, I see two angels coming,
as the mists begin to rise.
They’re reaching out to take me,
on to Paradise.
I know not the road they’re leading,
nor this world brand new.
But I know it’s life we’re living,
and the way that’s true.
So it’s not a celebration,
at dawn in Heaven’s land,
But two angels waiting,
to guide me, take my hand.
So it’s not a celebration,
at dawn in Heaven’s land,
But two angels waiting,
to guide me, take my hand.
About Music
Sure, music is to entertain.
But, more than that,
it’s to teach and heal,
to dispel darkness, and create light.
Walk the ward in song.
Sing gently, softly.
You’ll be fine,
you’ll see.
Knee Deep
After college, Mom and Dad generously bought a used truck for me, thinking I could find work. Oh my goodness what burden and cross that was! Every dollar I could earn was consumed on repairs. This made me so frustrated and angry that I almost turn my back on the truck and my family.
A humble and holy man would give back the car, and say “no thank you please”. I didn’t realize possessions could enslave me. I love the mobility a car provides, the ease in getting around, but the costly breakdowns and repairs, I cannot keep up with them.
I’m in knee deep. I may push on, into the world of credit cards, debts, and possessions. Or I may say “to hell with it all”. Either way, I learn a bitter truth.
God Help Me
Concern over material objects is getting to me, causing worry and pain. I react angrily, an occasion of sin. I am not walking the path of popularity. Nor am I taking the opportunities that come to me. But, I am waiting on the Lord. Giving with all my life, living with all my soul. Dutiful, chaste, chartable, practicing honesty and kindness, working and studying. Yet, it seems I’m headed for shipwreck on the rocks of poverty. God help me.
They’re Really Frogs
Oh, aspirating prophetess, open that mind of yours. You’re guilty of closed mindedness, and judging, as were our mothers and fathers before us. We must learn of others with different views.
Child, be sparing with sarcasm, it will work against you.
You must learn to share the spotlight, as well.
Naturism is only one part of the necessary whole.
I cannot touch you, and heal you. Nor can I enlighten you with magic words. But I will pray for you, and your path, and pray I have patience with you as well.
I ask forgiveness, Dear One, but those crickets you’re hearing so early in the spring, we call them peepers. They’re really tiny frogs.
Cry Out
I see the sinful nature of man. I am captive of humankind’s dark side. Prisoner of the human condition, though free to fly within a cage. I know all is animate, everything is alive to me. People and animals, rocks and trees, machines, the starry heavens, all alive. In my loneliness, fear, and sorrow, I cry, I cry out to God.
Man of Peace
The great will, strength, and conviction, it takes to be a man of peace.
Peace is not a leaf, floating on still waters. But a magnificent tree with roots reaching toward fiery hells, branches outstretched toward crystalline stars, and leaves open as hands in praise.
Branches bending, sometimes breaking in the wind.
It takes the strength of ten to claim and hold this peace. The strength of ten to be kind and gentle.
In faith, in faith then, shall peace live.
In peace then, shall I live.
Forgive Me and Know This. To My Family.
Please forgive and forget the times I’ve hurt you, or scared you, in the past. It was not I that did those horrible, hurtful, hateful things, but the insanity I suffered.
In this moment of truth, this sane and sober moment, please know it is only love, and adoration I hold for you.
If the future robs me of my sanity again, God forbid, and I say or do crazy or hurtful things, please remember it is not I, but the horrible disease that ravaged my life and soul.
In the timeless and holy truth, please know I have only love for you. For I cherish, yes cherish, the very thought of you.
Crying Dreams
A poem about a first love. A love that will never die.
I’m good at forgetting
all the hurt I’ve known.
All the teary endings,
all the time alone.
But then I am reminded,
that all will come to light,
when I awaken crying,
in the middle of the night.
All the jokes and laughter,
as happy as it seems,
but for midnight sorrows,
and crying in my dreams.
To cry so hard I’m aching,
these sorrows that I keep.
Life lost, love forsaken,
these waters still, run deep.
The tragedies of living.
The sorrow I deny,
will find it’s way to reckon,
while deep asleep I lie.
And heave such heavy tears,
it awakes me from my sleep.
my chest and mind are aching,
it hurts so now to weep.
Yes, I’ll tell you all is well,
and so I’m well it seems.
But I awake, my heart breaking,
crying in my dreams.
I never quite knew just why,
this sorrow lived inside.
But now I see, now I now,
it’s for your love I cried.
So when I wake up crying,
I send this little prayer,
“Jesus, bless and keep her,
let her know I care”.
Though all we share in life now,
is sunlight and moonbeams,
let her know I love her,
and I have crying dreams.
Please know that I love you,
and I have crying dreams.
Tomes of Resurrection
I was working in a neighbor’s yard. It was a beautiful spring morning. The sky was pale blue, and the moon was out all day. Ducks and geese were flying over. Cock pheasants squawked and drummed their wings in the woods behind. A snake bathed in the warm sun, then slithered away as I approached.
It had been a long, cold winter. The yard was covered with broken sticks and branches from the giant weeping willow.
As I began raking up the woody clutter, a stream of ideas began to march across my mind. I had a pen and pencil with me. So, one at a time I wrote the ideas down.
The first thought was about the “the true church”. I realized the true church is the one God’s Spirit tells you to be part of. All churches have strength and weaknesses. Since every church is in part human, every church will be imperfect. A perfect church would be comprised of perfect people. No such thing can be.
Even if a true Saint lives and teaches and in perfection, those who surround and interpret him are flawed. The perfect church exists only in the fullness of the Kingdom.
The strength of Catholicism is in the sacraments, while the strength of non denominational and Protestant sects is in worship and praise. Both could learn from the other. The universal truth is that the One True God desires each of us to draw near to him through prayer, hard work, charity and self denial.
We inevitably form imperfect churches, but even a flawed church may be safer and more effective than trying to survive and progress alone.
Then I began to contemplate about life’s battles. The first battle in life is the battle of good over evil. The second battle is for mastery of the arts and sciences. The third battle is for fame and fortune. I see there is considerable overlapping. Personally, my struggle to overcome evil, and development of my art forms left little time and energy to focus on fame and fortune.
Then I began to contemplate preaching as an art form, and arts as the vehicle of spiritual warfare.
The train of thought then shifted to physics, with the thought that time, energy, and mass are different forms of the same universal constant.
Then on to a procession of unrelated revelations. The first about Christianity, in my life. Christianity is not anything to do with debate over doctrine and interpretation, but rather the struggle to live, perpetually, within the presence of God.
The second thought was that, when I was young, I presumed two things. That I would overcome all evil, and ultimately, become known to all men. Today, however, I have neither overcome all darkness, nor ascended to universal fame. Not by a long, long, way.
Then I made the note that sometimes I grovel on my knees for hours, or lament for days seeking the grace and strength to act in a holy way. To act in understanding and kindness, even when anger is justifiable.
The final thought was that all passion, true passion, is conceived in reverence and love of life.
Well, by this time, the sun had crossed the sky, and the work was just about done. I heard the distant screech of gulls. High above, in a cold blue sky, four gulls circled. The evening sun was setting. it was a near perfect day.
Pashamagooley Kalamazoo – Friend of King of Zanzibar
I think this poem may be in another place, earlier, in the text. But the collection needs something whimsical at this point.
I am the Great and Terrible,
awful and unscarable,
utterly unbearable.
You’ll never, never, never guess who.
The Pashamagooley Kalamazoo.
I’m known from hell to heaven.
Yea, rolling up a seven.
I’ll settle for eleven.
Drinking Kool-aid from a shoe.
The Pashamagooley Kalamazoo.
Sometimes a fortune teller.
Play the harp, and ring the beller.
Give ‘em hope, and give ‘em heller.
He never did a deed untrue,
The Pashamagooley Kalamazoo.
Known to be a Buddhist.
Thought to be a nudist.
Without doubt the rudest.
Stirring up a witches brew.
The Pashamagooley Kalamazoo.
Living high up in the trees.
Greasing up his nose and knees.
Scratching at his ticks and fleas.
Throwing kicks and doing Kung Fu.
The Pashamagooley Kalamazoo.
Looking sharp, doin’ fine.
Clinging and swinging from his vine.
Signing on the dotted line.
Hanging with the well to do.
The Pashamagooley Kalamazoo.
For dinner he eats oatmeal mush,
shoves it down, he’s in a rush.
Then cleans his moustache with a brush.
He caught the cuckoo before it flew.
The Pashamagooley Kalamazoo.
They unscrewed his cranium,
put in a new brainium.
One made of uranium, and titanium.
Jumping like a jackeroo.
The Pashamagooley Kalamazoo.
Deplorable and horrible.
Yes, utterly adorable.
Trust him now to keep the scorable.
Ready now to take the queue.
The Pashamagooley Kalamazoo.
His nose glows green,
like a big string bean.
Looking clean, and mean, and lean.
Cooking up a barbecue.
The Pashamagooley Kalamazoo.
He’s sitting on his nest of eggs.
Getting crampy in his legs.
“Send it now”, he often begs
Up the creek in a cracked canoe.
The Pashamagooley Kalamazoo.
“Yes’, he says, “the world is mine”
“I’ve got it all, and doing just fine”
“See me smile, see me shine”.
He knows he’s of the chosen few.
The Pashamagooley Kalamazoo.
“ Yes” he says, “the world is mine”.
“I’ve got it all, I’m doing just fine”.
“See me smile, see me shine”.
He spread his wings and off he flew,
The Pashamagooley Kalamazoo.
Thought
I find a truth in no longer focusing on the attainment of fame and fortune. But rather, focusing on creating and projecting peace and well being.
Friends in Paradise
I have a vision
of our friendship
in paradise.
In Heaven,
we are friends,
special friends.
When I lost you
my life
fell apart.
As I find you again
my life
becomes whole.
I know for certain
we share
a common soul.
Now I have an idea.
When we get to heaven
I want you to live
next door to me.
I’ll chop your wood.
Mend your fences,
and draw your water.
There I’ll see you’re safe and happy,
and know you are truly well.
Collector of souls
Most people will leave their collections behind when they go. I will take mine with me, for I am a collector of souls.
Question
Shall I build a boat
and sail the world?
or build a house
on the water,
and let the world
come to me?
Thought
It’s still the olden days,
despite our new technology.
Human nature is
still human nature.
And man’s best friend
is still his dog.
Thought
Every little bit
adds to what you got,
and makes just a little bit more.
Thought
I sense my prayer is more like cracking rocks with a heavy hammer than weaving lace, or giving a rose.
Proverb
Get thy base of operations together before mounting an expedition.
About Life
Life
is about
love,
sharing,
giving.
Brothers and sisters.
livng well,
and in the next life,
ascending to a higher plane.
Life
is
not
at all
about
accumulating
great sums
of money,
or fame.
Life
is
discovering
the
eternal
dwelling place
of peace,
and joy.
Untitled
As I work my way through theses journals, it becomes evident that I have mood swings. In one entry I am in elation, in another, great melancholy. In this piece I am in elation. I was happily finding work, cleaning and gardening. I had a list of customers, two trucks on the road, and helpers getting things done. The church had work for me. I had a day’s work to look forward to, and a few bucks in my pocket. It was a time of renewal. I was in the choir. Mom and dad were well. It had me singing a happy song.
I send my thanks and praises,
beyond, to Heaven’s king.
Before me waters parting,
I hear the church bells ring.
It looked like endless trouble.
No luck, no hope, no chance.
But I awoke this morning,
and my feet began to dance.
And then I hit my knees in prayer,
to greet the new born day.
And I sigh in grateful, prayerful, praise,
for I see there is a way.
Spring is now upon the land,
apple blossoms white as snow.
Warm May breezes blowing,
His faith I surely know.
The trouble lain before me,
On Earth, no way ahead.
But now I see a wisdom,
oer’ the path down which I am led.
Yes, just a year ago,
I had hope, but not a way.
But now victory bells are ringing,
on this sparkling day in May.
Today we’ll breathe the brilliant hope.
Take strength in this day’s glory.
See the crystal vision.
Hear the joyful story.
The miracle happens little by little,
with each passing day.
Bit by bit, mite by mite,
deeds done and prayers we pray.
The new life comes upon us,
with each passing hour.
A heart both clean and open,
to welcome in the power.
Yes, the miracle is happening,
today is clear and bright.
Hope breaks forth upon us now.
Day breaks, now ends the night.
Yes the miracle is happening.
Today is bright and clear.
Take joy, take strength, and take courage,
for our victory may be near.
Yes the miracle is happening.
Today is bright and clear.
Take joy, take strength, and take courage,
for our victory may be near.
He Desires
Yes,
He desires
you draw
near to him.
Draw near,
through
prayer and meditation.
Read the Holy Scriptures.
Draw near,
through
self denial and charity.
Draw near
through visiting
natures shrines.
Yes,
draw near,
draw near.
Proverb: The ultimate medium is life on earth, human society. One’s medium is his tool. Courage is the great animating force.
Early Bear
These sections of the journal were written during a very happy time in my life. It was a delightful mix of essences. Work and prayer, the monastery and the coffee house. The rock band and the parties. The fishing and the hunting. I was truly alive, and living life. Yet not fully aware of how good things were. Perhaps not content in that I had not ascended to great fame. Justin, Jon, Lance and I took a week in September to visit Lake Kiwassa in the Adirondacks. It was a fishing trip, during the early bear season. I brought my bear tag and gun. While the boys were fishing, I headed for the woods.
The boys brought their instruments, and studio equipment. They composed and arranged in the evenings. They composed a song entitled Angel Frost. It was Holy Spirit anointed, though none of the boys had been baptized. I got my prayers done. We made real progress. All the elements were in place. We came so close.
Early bear,
Curly hair,
surely scare.
A gun
I’ll wear.
I’m going to hunt,
for real.
I dare.
The early bear.
Let’s go for bear.
I’m gone,
so long.
A happy song.
It ain’t wrong.
To walk the wood,
and taste the good.
Yes, I should.
Call it fair.
For early bear.
Let’s go for bear.
On the wing.
The mountain spring.
Adventure bring.
A brand new thing.
Forest deep.
Mystery keep.
It’s in the air.
Let’s go for bear.
Early bear.
Come my friend.
Let’s not pretend.
A secret send.
(It’s not the end).
We’re round the bend.
So say,” I care”.
Clear the air,
And cut the snare.
let’s go for bear.
The early bear.
Proverb: There are friends who leave you with a residual high.
Response in Mass- Sept. 1997
“We are called to live for justice”.
“We are called to love tenderly”.
“We are called to serve one another”.
“We are called to walk humbly before God”.
Body and Soul- Contemplation
Contemplate striving for purity as one and the same as striving for enlightenment. The foods and chemicals we put into our bodies will affect and reflect in our spiritual being. To purify the body is to come closer to God.
The Middle Road- Contemplation
Walking the middle road does not mean equal service to both good and evil. But rather acknowledging that all that exists in the earth realm has a dark, negative side, and moving on from there to serve the force of good.
The shadow nature, here on earth, is an undeniable part of reality. But walking the middle road does not mean creating equal amounts of healing and damage to our universe. But rather, the middle path is to do good, whenever it is in your power to do so. To consciously generate a love vibration. To alleviate suffering wherever you can. To be balanced and whole, having confidence that all will be well, without making oneself a martyr.
Sacrifice gently to Love in one’s home. Listen, understand, nourish thyself that one might nourish others. Unlock God’s Love within thy breast. Let this Love break over the world. Light and dark, love and hatred, joy and sorrow, and good and evil cannot be denied. Harmony and discord, anarchy and order, life and death are all real.
But the middle road does not mean to cause equal damage and healing to our world, to cause others equal joy and pain. But rather, the middle road is to always lean gently into love. To create, to give, to heal.
Set For Success- Contemplation
More writing for the group that gathered around the communal home where the band resided. It was a cross roads, with folks coming and going at all hours. It’s where we hung out, and partied and practiced. We made music, shared meals, and talked until dawn.
The success of this communal venture is not resting on a powerful chieftain, dominant, chest puffed, steely eyed, arms crossed. But rather, the success of the communal home rests upon the ones who haul out the trash, wash the dishes, fold the blankets, and wash and clean the floors.
Yes, we have plenty of strong armed, deep seeing policy makers. But the survival of the communal home depends upon someone who can put up a large kettle of wholesome soup, hot bread, and tea. With the kitchen and bathroom clean, and a wholesome table spread, the stage is then set for communication, creation, adventure. Success.
Proverb: A wise servant rules the masters household.
Why in God’s name? – Contemplation
Why in God’s name, would anyone choose to embrace evil? Would it be cowardness, laziness, ignorance or pride? When in our hearts we truly know it is goodness and holiness we love, why do we let anything keep us from saying ‘I love you God, come into me God, reveal yourself within me, be my life, Oh God”.
It’s Up To You Jesus, Now – Contemplation.
Lord God, Jesus, Savior. we have named you messiah. Now you, Dear Lord, must set us free. Only you can set us free. We’ve witnessed you, Now you must set us free.
And We are God.
It’s ten fifty Saturday night.
Boy’s jamming in the basement.
Things are fine,
all right.
There’s a meal a simmering on the stove.
Tonight we’re breaking bread.
Food and friends, were kicking back.
Cool, laid back, ahead.
The pet rats are loose.
Stray tomcat here.
Aquariums full of fish.
We’re finding harmony in friends,
To dream, to pray, to wish.
The moon spins round the earth and sun,
and we as sons arise.
Talk of fate,
and mystic light,
what makes a true soul wise.
Mama’s foods ‘asimmering.
The few here find our way.
Beat the drum, bring forth new songs.
Again, the break of day.
The brew, the smoke, the broken rules.
All in this earthly path.
And pray for strength and glory.
And to escape the foretold wrath.
