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Seraphim
My angels haven't been as active lately.
I have fear as to whether the tether broke.
Well, the gorgeous presences must be
either relaxing else leaving me to atone.
Occassionally a whisper will flutter through.
Occassionally things will seem to change.
Whatever happens in a moment is only true
because my sweet seraphim renews the stage,
perhaps only summoned in needfulness,
as children cry for a mother always near;
but still notions of being relinquished
perplexes me with doubt and dread here.
In our fallen world (thanks
In our fallen world (thanks to those disobedient adolescents, Adam and Eve), we have to learn as much by the paradox of negation as by the privilege of direct presence. Between moments of blessing, we have moments that seem to be empty, moments of dearth, in which we may be tempted to wonder if the spiritual joy will ever return. It will. Wasn't it Eliot who said, in Burnt Norton (I think), "Human beings cannot bear very much reality." These moments that seem empty, but they are transitional---they are "rests" or pauses in a great musical score going on around us. When a spiritual Good Friday separates us from our joy, we must remember to rest on Saturday, in preparation for the resurrected dawn of more joy on a spiritual Easter Sunday.
Starward
Yes indeed -- just as we must
Yes indeed -- just as we must rest as human peoples, so also the divine must rest.
bananas are the perfect food
for prostitues