AUTHENTICITY

Two sides,
Light, dark, hold hands,
Both are part of the whole,
Each one is the truth in one soul,
Needed
My friend
For the soul’s good health, combined they
Make us whole, authentic,
A living light,
Shining

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NEW YEAR’S EVE

My heart is full this New Year’s Eve. So many things that I would like to make new but can’t. My eyes, my ability to walk, the restoration of feeling in my hands and feet, lungs so that I can breathe properly. That DAMNED cancer! But I can never make those things new.

I have tried to turn everything to the good – and I believe that I have succeeded, for the most part. Done everything. You know – been positive, seen my glass as half full not half empty. All the things you are meant to do. Smiled when I was feeling like shit. Forgiven people for not understanding and for treating me badly, because they cannot walk a mile in my shoes. Taken insult after insult, and not allowed myself to be affected by it. Sometimes the trial has felt too great. Been called “Inspirational,” when all I wanted was a hug and the permission to collapse in a heap and cry. Sometimes being inspirational is a heavy burden to carry. You can’t always meet up to expectations or to your name.

I have spent this last year going through all the emotions under the sun. But mostly grieving. Grieving for that which I have lost. In fact, it seems as if I have lost everything that I was. Sometimes I have felt that I am just a thing on the bed. Not a person at all. Totally dependent upon others for almost every need. Unable to make choices for myself. Controlled by others. And I have been remembering. Remembering what I once was. An academic. A bird watcher. A pianist. A liver of nature. And oh yes, I have tried to do good, and to be happy in the fact that I can still hear, taste, and smell nature. But you know what? There is NOTHING like SEEING it!

I am being honest here. Sometimes it feels like shit.

And if I say that there is a sense in which I “see” far more clearly now that I am blind, and if I say that I know great joy in the things that are not material, it is as true as my saying “Life is shit, and I feel like shit.” Both things are part of me, and make up the whole.

The one thing about me is that I am honest. I don’t fake it. So you get what you get. Shit and stars are not mutually exclusive. Believing and having faith in a God of some kind, even a broken one, broken like me, and doubting and questioning and enduring a torment of the mind, are not mutually exclusive.

Therefore my writing may change from day to day, and even hour to hour – but it will aways reflect the truth of the moment.

At this moment, as we stand on the threshold of a New Year, I wish more than anything that I could have my eyesight back, and that I could see the birds and the Spring again. I wish mire than anything in the world that indeed, all things could be made new, as we read in the Bible. But I know that when I read those words, they have to be taken in a spiritual sense. And I want my body and my circumstances to be made new. It will not happen. And so I grieve. But in amongst all that grief is a great joy.

Light and dark, joy and pain, faith and doubt, can all walk hand in hand together. And here is where I stand this New Years Eve.

THE END OF TIME

The world is in motion
Nothing still
As the Dance goes on
Weaving
Gliding
Twisting
Forming patterns like the crystals of a snowflake
Painting pictures
Creating stories
Dying
Birthing
Re-creating
Is there really a time for everything
Or is everything in its time?
And is there a difference?
Soon, time will be no more
The Dance will end
As eternity calls
The picture will be complete
But how will the story end?
As eternity calls
A new book will be opened
A book called “The Book of Life”
And in this book
A day will be like a thousand years
And a thousand years like a day
And here, there will be no endings
Or even beginnings
For time will be no more
In a life that is eternal

NEW WORLD BECKONING

Stable
You gave shelter
When there was no one there
Who would make room for a woman
With child
Today
There is still no room at the inn
For those untidy lives
That do not hit
The mark

Make room
For untidy
Ones who beg for mercy
For in truth they may be angels
Lighting
Your path
Angels do not always have wings
But tangled hair, no shoes,
Appearances
Deceive

Judge not
Those whom you see
Who do not look the same
As you, who walk the streets begging
One day
You too
May find yourself in that dark place
May there be a stable
To shelter you
Give warmth

The world
Is untidy
Littered with lives gone wrong
Upside down people challenging
The right
Way up
Ones who really are upside down
A new world of mercy
Beckons us all
Greet it