Church is poetry. Poetry is life. A life well lived.
I haven’t given up gathering resolutions. I have relinquished a resounding voice; moving on to disturb the mystery, in hopes the Spirit rises to meet us half way.
Silence is a remedy. A modern day deserted course that digs deep to uproot bitter taste and indulge in honeyed foreplay. Patience chooses to swim in the sweet aroma of (inner) peace, contentment and fortitude than muck around the endless anger of politics.
Rumi says my thoughts eloquently.
If you could get rid of yourself just once, the secret of secrets would open to you. The face of the unknown, hidden beyond the universe would appear on the mirror of your perception.
This post probably belongs on my new blog Soul Signs. But in my inner mixings and until the picture becomes clearer, there will most likely be double postings or a runaway thought posted here on occasion.
I am not new to spiritual things. As a child I was highly in tune with the unknown and invisible world. I am a spirit being, as we all are or can become. I am slowly working my way back into hearing the quiet cricket hour. Knowing I am practicing these universal truths, to not rush to and fro like a disobedient wind is a step. To be a calming breeze on a stormy day, a leap of faith.