Thursday, January 27, 2005


the piper plays, inviting us to dance Posted by Hello

...We are but fragments, dust of the same magnificent humanity that spawned both Hitler and Mother Theresa.

Interwoven fates

How interwoven are our fates. Apparent strangers lives coming together to effect one another forever,to alter, to change, to sometimes wipe away. Effect in some way for the greater good, or the greater evil...I'm never really sure, as life has a way of flipping over revealing hidden sides and componets before I'm thru viewing and passing my little judgment, deciding whether something is good or evil....and then it shows me another face, another perspective, another way of "seeing". Yes, how interdependent we all are, what a house of cards are our decisions with their domino consequences, one interacting with another and another and another, unaware all the while of the mysterious undercurrent of the universe moving us along, in some strange synch we cannot comprehend.....strangers with their random acts and deeds of malice and of kindness.... which are never random at all.

Monday, January 17, 2005


Contemplation Posted by Hello

Questions & Answers

I don't think we arrive at the answers to life's big questions in books, or things outside of ourselves. I think we find confirmation for our truth in other peoples words, and the worlds gifts...Truth resonates with what we know, but first we have to have come to the answer within, for the Teacher resides not in the pages of our great books, but in the folds of our hearts.....and when those hearts open and spill their content on a page it sings in harmony with our soul, confirming for us that which we already know.

Questions & Answers

I don't think we arrive at the answers to life's big questions in books, or things outside of ourselves. I think we find confirmation for our truth in other peoples words, and the worlds gifts...Truth resonates with what we know, but first we have to have come to the answer within, for the Teacher resides not in the pages of our great books, but in the folds of our hearts.....and when those hearts open and spill their content on a page it sings in harmony with our soul, confirming for us that which we already know.

Wednesday, January 12, 2005


Childhood Posted by Hello

Autumn Splendor

...I hear him outside
raking the remnants
of summer’s emerald loveliness
into his little piles of fall decay,
crisp!
He steps lightly
across the bridge of my remembrance...
I see other piles of play
where the sun beat down briefly
on a lonely child’s autumn splendor.

P.kent


The Gmekeepr Posted by Hello

Roses on My Table

....And I have roses on my table in January. In the midst of war and catastrophic mystery. While the worlds fractures, both earthly and manmade, stretch to the breaking point. Where we debate the correctneses of worshipping God, and the fundamental right to love. Where humanities greatness is lost in the pages of history being written by the fingers of her errors. Choices to build walls of intolerance, by hearts filled with hubris, self exaggeration, and righteousness, each claiming God as their champion..........and when the sea vomited up the remains of that which she had hastily consumed, were the contents of her depths identifiable by race or color or status or creed? They were one humanity, those which the sea had made her own.....just one, and that united cry of unimiginable loss and grief called out to the greatness in man. Yes, under the same sky we walk, those perpectuating greed and might, and those aching for the worlds wounds of hate to heal. And in the midst of war and catastrophic mystery.......i have roses on my table in January and am ever humbled by His Grace.

Tuesday, January 11, 2005


Believe Posted by Hello

A Preposterous Faith

Mankind is asked to endure the untenable, as he awaits the Promise, some promise, any promise that is the reward of his faith..........We are asked to believe in the lunacy of the preposterous. Faith, Trust, Hope...in the existance of the unfathonable as we wait and we watch....our world and its spinning, and the things it offers up with it's rotations. Just a tiny ball in the hands of the universe, holding the emense collective consciousness of man, with all his eternal and varied faiths, that Something holds his hand...and yes, I do believe in the preposterous.

Sunday, January 09, 2005

....Such a mystery really, how life opens us up, slowly, methodically without our even knowing...life has it's way with us. Spilling her seeds that with the waters of the years, will grow into the unique expression of who we are....I have been parted and I have been pummeled. I have been loved tenderly by life, and I have been entered savagely, the flowered petals of my soul ripped and left bleeding....seeds of faith and fear spewed and enbedded in my chaliced womb. Funny, the mystery of our soul's impregnation, gestation, and birth. And yes, we labor many times, male and female alike to give birth to ourselves, pieces of who we are, small and tender and new waiting to be nurtured into life's unique expression of itself.

Mirrors

Don't we see that our opponet, our opposition, is simply our counter part. They are reflecting ourselves. We are but mirrors for one another, and yet we see as in a glass darkly, the smoke of our illusion clouding vision. We throw stones of blame and accusation at one another shattering our own image, furthur distorting reality. We do not understand the mathematics of the Universe, where "they" always reduces to "we"....but then, we do not see.


life's myatery Posted by Hello

Monday, January 03, 2005


its a topsy turvy world we dance in, always asking us to learn new steps. Posted by Hello

Exposure

I wonder if my little blog will ever see the light of day on anyones screen. Or if it will just flounder in the bowels of the vast internet , twisting and turning in on itself, lost somewhere between the massive coils of words put out by so many. And why does one create a blog in the first place, why put your heart out there anyway, why lay your words on the table where they can be sliced and shred and eaten or tossed aside. My thoughts are not so easy to digest I know. They ask people to think differently, hell they ask me to think differently too.
Heres a thought for today: Just how much will love ask of us if we are really to learn her lessons of authenticity, sacrifice and acceptance? Its a very long journey of the heart from the "love" we think we feel for someone who is making us feel good, all warm and cozy and alive, and the much larger "love" that asks us to sacrifice some of our ideals and dreams for another, the love that asks us sometime to accept that which we think unacceptable. Love, asks us to grow past our small selves into another realm of grace.

Sunday, January 02, 2005


Life is a dance...let us find and sing our song in harmony with its rhythm Posted by Hello

Plain Truth

I am a simple canvas, plain and unadorned it seems...on which some impish angels, paint their bold and playful dreams.


...and something watches over me Posted by Hello


I wish for us a gentler, more peaceful world. Posted by Hello

Tsunami Sorrow

We are such a devisive people with the capacity for such emmense expressions of unity and connection....Perhaps the earth moves and shakes us to our foundatioin simply because the earth moves, and changes and evolves and shifts, and shakes us to our foundation with its dance..or perhaps nature continues to need to use natural disasters to put mankind in touch with his higher and greater potential. We as Americans, ever more isolated and arrogant, have been busy wandering around in our lower expressions of potential, so divided in our own sweet country over how and who should love, what to do with our elderly and our poor, immigration issues inflame the calmest, unbigoted heart, children still go to school hungry in classrooms that do not teach, and millions walk our streets without healthcare when sick.... and we've immeshed ourselves ever deeper in war and world discord...all tools of seperation. Yes, the earth quaked with grief across the ocean floor and God spread His sorrow across our lands, a heartbeat in time, many thousands claimed, washed away in heaven's tears...and the rest of us for a moment stop to recognize our oneness. These are not Muslims we are seeking to kill or transform, "worshippers of Satan's religion", peopling these devastated lands. No they have been transformed by tragedy into children of God we are trying to save. Perhaps the world needs to swallow its own to awaken us from the slumber of our illusion...............where man's goodness pierces the celestial veil of dark and grey and lets the sun's melody sing for the earth on this new day.

Variously gifted people

We are all variously equipped and gifted for the journey across our life's filed, but each adequately equipped for the particular filed of dreams he must cross, the particular life he is born into: My oldest daughter tells me she is sorry she can't contribute to my blog, as she is only an accountant. The smartest woman I knew growing up, the one who left the most positive mark on my lonely little girl's heart, the most admirable example of a woman I had, was my Father's mother....my beloved Nana. She was an accountant, smart, capable, efficient. I don't think she was a dreamer with a poets soul, like her only grandaughter...but it is she who introduced me to poetry, who read to me, who took the time write out in longhand with bent and painful fingers, a 12 page poem I loved called "Kentucky Belle". I still have that poem tucked away with the handful of things from my life that I treasure most. And everytime I read it, it gives silent testimony to her love for me. My Grandmother, the bright accountant who was such a bright light in my dark world. To me she was the smartest woman in the world, with the most positive, most stable things to contribute to my fragile, fractured foundation. Her steady accountant's heart nurtured my little poets, wild, sad soul and it was she who encouraged the growth of my wings, only stubble and promise when she died and left me, but before she went she planted and watered the seeds of faith that I would one day soar free.
We always have exactly what we need to contribute wherever we should find ourselves...the difficulty seems to lie in realizing and recognizing it, releasing it and believing in it enought to share it....whatever "it" might be. So let us each sing his hearts own song, as even the sun trust and sings each morning, her song to earth.

Saturday, January 01, 2005

New Years 2005

gmekeepr said...
Happy New Year!Welcome 2005! You open your arms and bid the world step into your embrace. And what will we give you and what will we attempt to extact?I do not understand the enormity of the issues currently on the table in the banquet hall of our "topsy turvy" universe. The continued existence of mankind seems somehow connected to the continued perpetuation of war. Ethnic and religious people hurl their swords of savagery at each other in the name of some great god they believe supports them and is against the other. And what they can't see is their fundamental similarity. From primitive hand held weapons to ones of sificient power and sophistication to annililate the present human race if we start hurling them at each other...which seems quite plausible. We find ourselves here, having sent our children one more time to sacrifice themselves on the battlefild of mans distorted dreams of power and glory.But what if we see ourselves as the "music makers, the dreamers of dreams" as Arthur O'Shaughnessy said.What if? Then couldn't we choose , as some do, to dance a the rhythm of harmony, not the discordanct sounds of hate.We can believe in the dream of dismanteling the walls of intorlerance with their bricks and mortor of bigotry, and lies.The rage of our earth runs deep with ancient mans blood, and we spill more today, and we wonder why God shakes the earth and spills His tears across her shores. And I believe that if we do not wake from the slumber of our belief in might as an answer, we will find the world has turned and done a "Topsy turvy" dance as worlds will often do...history bares witness in all her tales. And he who sits at the head of the table in the seat of power shall no longer occupy that place...for no nation rules forever, no ruler lives that long. All things spin in the circle of life, all things connected, no random acts at all...the last shall be first and the first shall then be last...only lessons in the great schoolyard of life, and on that playground we all know the winners always find themselves losers and the losers always somehow end up at the winners table with some beat of the circle dance. So life really is a gamble, without winners or losers as we twirl. We are all ultimately too connected to not be brought down by anothers suffering, and lifted up by anothers celebration..our humanity makes it so.
1:43 PM

An Honerable Man: for Wm Jefferson Clinton

What I admire and trust most about another human being is their authenticity. I highly prize the qualities that make a persona come across as real, genuine. We craft & create but there is something about real people that makes their carefully crafted mask not so crafted, but a part of the whole, a natural extension of soul into personality, spirit into man....
And real people have flaws. Perfection still remains in the realm of the divine. Real people are self revealing, childlike in their vulnerability, regardless of how strong a figure they project, no matter how strong they may be, they wear see thru clothes in their revealing dance, the hero and the villain entwined on the floor of life spinning, wrapped up in the denim & silk of everything in between.
Those amongst us who grow into larger than life human beings, doing far more than the average, leaving legacies filled with ways in which they left the world greatly altered and improved by their being. Their contribution to humanity entered and honored in the archives of time......where they always grow better in our eyes in age and death...
They have flaws often as large and obvious as their greatness, co-existing in view for all the world to see. Brave courageous men and women who proudly wear the scars of their humanity, the marks of who they are. They dress in clothes as Kings and Queens but stand naked before us, their pain, their heartache, their most grievous mistakes paraded for judgement before our rabid eyes so eager to pounce, forgetting the log in our own eye, their fall from grace plastered across the face of our every day.
Yes, my heros are real...authentically strong and authentically weak, aware of the whole, the connected, the larger picture of purpose. Their failings but tools to carve them out, deepening, their understanding, germinating their wisdom.
Give me real and flawed and utterly dependent on God’s Great Grace.