Now has no Shadow

The Shadow of Now

I wash dishes  

And plan to swim tomorrow

 Or maybe hike.

What would it be like

To see a friend for lunch?

Do I need new shoes?

Perhaps a shirt?

Don’t forget

to pay the bills.

I pick up a dish,

The last to dry,

And realize

I lived

The shadow of now.

I was not really there.

Did I stop to notice

the shine of clean?

Did I remember

the joy

of service

for my family?

Did I see

the love I gave

And honor

the sense of order

            articulated by me

            as God’s expression.

In full light of perfect presence,

Joy shines

             Exuberant!

Now is full

            of the best of good.

What could be better?

But yesterday’s argument

            With my mother

Cast its long shadow.

How wrong she was.

The gloom builds

And shady fingers

Reach to cover Now’s light

And maybe tomorrow

I cannot do the work.

There is so much.

So many burdens.

“What if”

sends a shadow

Lurking from the future.

Where nothing has happened

But fear.

Or anticipation

            of tomorrows good

That has not come to pass.

The shadow of the past

            joys, regrets, failure, and successes

            casts the long past noon silhouette

To shade the now.

Competing ghost of future possibilities

            potentialities of good

            worries for hurt or harm

            throw darkness

Over the vibrancy of Now.

Now has no shadow.

The glow of present good

            shines from within

            eliminating all possible

            shade or gloom.

Now is always glorious.

Be in the light of now.

It has no shadow.

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page still up

While working on the computer a notice came up, “Browser open.” I had minimized something some time ago.  It was off my screen.  I couldn't see it but the computer knew that everything was still there. To the computers “eye”, consciousness, nothing had changed. This made me think of when we no longer see a loved one because they have passed on.  Their “page is not up” for our eye to view but to God’s “eye”, consciousness, nothing is changed.  Their identity is just as complete as it was before.

facebook

Facebook/Face to Face Book

9-2-2014

I like this, they like that

Friends share what they see

Where they have been

What they eat (really?)

Pictures posted, comments made

Who are you following?

Do they know who you are?

Do they know who you really are?

Should you care?

Who knows you best?

Face to face

Friends on a page.

Face to face

Fire on a sage.

Turn aside and see

The bush is burning.

Are you looking?

Who are you following?

“I have seen God face to face

and my life is restored.”

Who knows you best?

Enter into the closet

Shut the door and talk

Face to face.

God, what do you know about me?

I am your idea,

I reflect your abundance

Your beauty and creativity.

If I look face to face

Do I see me?

No I see you.

Look on the page.

What is posted?

Places to be.

On the shores of Galilee.

What did they eat?

Manna also for me?

New pictures up?

The oldest is new,

“God created man in his image and likeness.”

  

Comments?

“Be yea therefore perfect

even as your father in Heaven is perfect.”

I think I’ll comment too,

“Yes, Father, Mother God,

you know me best.

I’ll follow you,

And open the Bible page.”

Memory Walked

A Memory Walked

A memory walked.

We started together up the hill.

Two and two

Father and daughter

Discussing problems of far away cities.

Mother and son

Singing and making funny noises.

Lilikoi became soccer balls.

The father walked backwards

In small steps up the hill

And the son caught him

For just a moment.

All together

A meditation from the grassy top

Of the ocean’s distant heart

Sitting on the coffee farm’s edge.

A memory walked.

We started together down the road.

Pennies in the gravel

Promised infinite wealth.

Fallen wormy  mangos

Filled pockets

Unprepared for sticky spheres.

The father’s pace lengthened.

We laughed and tried to leapfrog him

To take the lead.

But soon his long steps

Took him around the bend

And he crossed the highway

While we watched for

Traffic on the other side.

A memory walked.

We started together up the trail.

Roots made stair steps

And castles for beetles.

Tree trunks covered their bark

 in coast of moss,

protection from a misty rain.

The trail rose and twisted like  a bronco

shaking the rider from his back.

The father turned a corner up ahead

And we were left

To create our own joy

Seeing beauty everywhere,

Sharing alone.

  

A memory walked.

We started together through the forest.

Bamboo stalks built a cathedral above

And with the wind

Played a hymn.

A wooden path zigged and zagged

With the mystery of a “who done it.”

Leading on

any steps that chose to dance

To the ballet that the breeze designed.

The leaves whispered.

The bamboo played the marimba.

Time and the heart stopped.

The Father had zigged

Then zagged out of sight.

Was he still in the bamboo catherdral?

deep in the moment

Deep In the Moment                                                                      6-26-2014

Time stretches taut.

A tight rope we walk

Always forward.

We think that looking

Futureward

Far or near

Will keep us steady to the goal.

That look,

Off to some distant good or fear

Blinds our thought

To now.

That look,

Far behind with joy or sorrow

Blinds our thought

To now.

There is no line

Of time directional.

Stretched with fear

Of beginning or ending.

Sit and rest

Soft in the moment.

Let go the rope

Be in now.

Sink in

Float up

Sing free as a bird at dawn

And hear every other song

Sung deep

 in every other now.

One now

Only one now

Every only one now

Always sung together.