Morning Thoughts 5/9/17

You awaken to the dawn within.

It can take more effort to not drink
than I would care to admit
but I can and it does feel like
a relief of sorts to do so.

the sky is pulling away the shroud of night
as light begins to drift into steady view

How steady are your hands when you grip the pen and begin
to move it across the page. Are you ready to let your thoughts
unfurl in their own way, free of judgement, and editing, free to
simply be allowed to exist on the page and say what they have
come to say. How many words by how many people rest in the
closed confines of books dusty and forgotten in attics and shelves
across this world? Too numerous to count, this figure would
astonish us all. The words are always there and ready to be read
if given the chance. The page is longing for fingers to run across
long closed pages on paper that has aged as well as possible.

How early is the dawn?

Do you long to be part of the world or apart from it?

The name of God is on your lips but you have forgotten what it is.
Does it matter to Her. I supposed it doesn't as long as you know
that all paths lead towards the same form of enlightenment give the
right opportunity.

I can see a tree and think of shade and fruit. I can see a tree and
think of childhood and of my bike slamming into one. I can see
trees in the park and think of a park in Oregon and laying in the
grass, watching the branches and clear blue sky. I can look at a
tree and think of all the pieces of paper I have ever written upon
or thrown away once they have served their purpose. To exist
is to serve in so many guises in so many lives. If I am human
what will my next guise be? Will I still wake with the dawn and
hear the voices of the birds from the branches in the trees?
This life without end, changing from one existence to the next.
Sleeping until we must wake, and living while one can as well.

We are perfectly built to be imperfect. Through this we can find
the lining of grace and grow beyond the limits of our shortcomings.

I'm waiting for you in this room but I'll never find you here if I
do not leave. Opening the door I can find the touch of wind
and know you are there somewhere.

A moment of peace.

Is the universe reaching into you?
Are you listening?
Can you feel it?

Songs of Faith and Worship.

Reaching into memory
I find you, Old Friend.
Be at peace.

Monastic Order

Voices only grow more beautiful in a choir.

Light of Consciousness