Mother’s Tears

Let me show you the face of God.

Today I’m feeling such wonderful joy and such deep sadness. Where they meet on the field of doubt, hope is born.

Tears are flowing down my face from deep down, from the place my soul was born from.

Strange tears, with a sweet bitter taste. There is a saltiness in them that reminds me of the oceans before mankind stepped into Eden.

That was a pure time of creation, full of hope and potential. A time of eternal beauty, imagine it if you can.

We so much desire to be known and loved by this place and time that has birthed us. But we often feel like orphans, mistakes, the refuse of a time before.

Real life is not about being loved, truly it is about finding love for yourself, for all things as yourself.

To know yourself is not to destroy yourself, to know yourself is true love.

To be alive can be so overwhelming. How we can hurt one another like we do. We are capable of such hatred and rage…such darkness…

but but but

There can be such amazing dazzling firefly like beauty. Sparks of eternity you can taste and feel, balls of light bursting on your tongue and in the back of your mind.

What a glorious gift!

Maybe life is but a dream, but it feels…it feels…I don’t have the words. It feels more than real, more than true, more than all the words ever spoken or written.

I will remember this place for eternity as I sail past these temporary sorrows.

Eternity is found in this very moment, right now.

If you want to know god, look to your right and to your left. Look at that poor soul drinking themselves to an early death on the side of the road.

Look at your children.

Look at your friends and enemies.

Look at what you love and hate.

Forgive yourself for what you have done, forgive others for what they have done to you.

I know my Mother’s desire to be loved. I am her, but with something more. I know her pain to my marrow. I know how she desires union with God and fears the enemy of love.

God did come to her, through her children. She may never know it, but it’s more than true.

I imagine her saying to me, rejoice my son, you have found your heart! You are here living, this is no small accomplishment…

rejoice rejoice rejoice!

Here I am talking to myself on a lazy Saturday as tears stream down my face. We are always running and pushing for that next breath, that next experience, but look around you. Take a deep breath, blink, enjoy the view maybe.

These are my Mother’s tears, mixed with mine, an elixir that has revealed the face of God.

You will only be here for a very short time, the shortest blink. Pay attention, mean what you do, take responsibility for all of it.

You have arrived here now!

Billions of years awaited your arrival.

Welcome.

Look at your love, feel your hatred. Let them join together in that field beyond good and evil.

I’ll meet you there.

blue fire

my mouth fills with warm red wine,
the blood of gods flows, rich and deep,
dripping over my exposed heart—
it awakens shadows long asleep.

my tongue explores the swirling tastes,
a bitterness beneath the sweet.
the ridges of my soul are traced,
where sorrow and renewal meet.

a blue flame flickers, softly born,
igniting shadows deep within.
a spark of purpose, sharp as thorn,
in the herald’s fullness, new life begins.

through sting of loss, I still recall
the sweetness buried in decay.
the rotting fruit, its death a call,
fuels flames that burn my grief away.

a luscious heat now fills my core,
a fractured spirit starts to mend.
despair flows upward, feeding more,
transforming pain to hope’s bright flame.

it trickles down, I swallow whole—
this fire, alive in every cell.
a warmth ignites my aching soul;
in a sip of wine, life’s last farewell

69.

In conflict it is better to be receptive
than aggressive, better to retreat a foot
than advance an inch.

This is called moving ahead without advancing,
capturing the enemy without attacking him.

There is no greater misfortune than
underestimating your opponent.
To underestimate your opponent is to
forsake your three treasures.

When your forces are engaged in conflict,
the one who fights with sorrow will triumph.

–Tao Te Ching, Translation by Brian Browne Walker