The Holy Spirit

It was a few months ago when I came across a barber shop in a part of town I rarely drive by. I needed a cut so I stopped in, sat down, and listen to the barber make light talk with an old veteran who looked tough as nails (not the plastic ones.)

“How is your walk with The Lord,” said the young barber to his client. “It’s going well; I’m in Leviticus now.”

My ears perked up; there was a qjuiet fire in the barber’s young eyes and a certain dignity to his comportment. As it was my turn to go from grizzly bear to human, I relaxed in his chair and we talked about God.

I told him of my condition and that I’ve been searching for a church. It turns out that he is a non-denomenational pastor to a small chapel right next door to the shop. I told him I’d stop by next Sunday for service. He refused to charge me for the cut and some wonderful things happened over the next few months.

He instructed me to read the gospels – and I do so every morning; I kept at it even when I relapsed (that being an ongoing thing for over a month). I began to feel a hunger, a certain longing, to know better the God I had been praying to for well over four years. Four years, and I had no clue to whom I was praying.

Jesus continually asks for repentance in the gospels. This is not something you hear much – at least, I didn’t – in the Catholic Church growing up. I don’t commit to things easily- but my chips are all in and I began to eat up the bible as if it were spiritual food, and indeed it is.

The pastor and I sat on a beach and I began to go over my sins with him (repentance, also known as steps four through seven in other groups). Jesus, as I’d been reading was/is a healer. All my chips are in, and I’m willing to set aside my opinions in favor or becoming a born again Christian. “There is no other way to the father but through me,” I believe that was one of the many things he said intimating that indeed I can’t know my creator but through him.

They dunked me in the water and I emerged – as they put it – a new man, imued with “the great helper,” also known as “The Holy Spirit.”

I was meditating recently with a friend in the living room when – eyes closed – the wind from the wind behind became a white light, a cleansing light, and suddenly it occured to me the transient nature of things. Cars swam and disappeared into the light outside, voices trailed off into the light. All things are born in the light and then dissapear into the light and the Holy Spirit is warm and safe forever.

the moment

It is the present moment,

unblinking and fixed in place.

It is a quiet mind,

being okay with where you are in the race.

 

It fights nothing

and embraces all things.

Cancer, addiction,

all the things that make us happy or sad.

 

fear and guilt

take us away

from the glory of this moment

where God has his presence and sway.

 

Breathe deep and embrace the now

and exhale debris from the future and past;

For God sits and waits right here

with open arms, offering a love that lasts.

 

for her

The words aren’t coming out-

a kind of mental constipation.

When I think of her,

I’m speechless with infatuation.

 

Her eyes be jewels from heaven

and her hair be soft as snow.

Her words caress my mind

and make my thoughts glow.

 

Her patience, that of the moon-

hovering over a restless sea.

my waves ease quietly

under her gaze so lovingly.

 

her love, that of the sun-

indiscriminate in her tenderness.

she warms, even this bum,

in the radiance of her bliss.

 

She watches, patient and warm

over this stormy sea.

For she is no woman,

She is hope, shining eternally.

 

 

 

 

a release from self

Thoughts come and go,

clouds across a backdrop of blue.

so are my fleeting thoughts,

even, this poem, from me to you.

it’s when i attach myself to them

and the angry things they say

that my life takes a dark turn

and things don’t go my way.

Oh, dear God, release me from my thinking

and take me to the clear blue sky.

For these clouds that come and go

cause pain and make me cry.

poem number 37

next to a beautiful woman,

i’m sitting at the cafe.

an urgency rises up-

why can’t i have things my way?

why can’t love and pleasure

visit me on my terms

easily as the green flourishes

on the deep forest ferns?

why is it that the things which elude me

are the things I so passionately long for?

has nature itself abandoned me

like dead leaves on a forest floor?

All my life i’ve wrestled with the world around me

seeking to gain love and support.

and self pity rises up-

a dark tide, rocky no, ships at port.

Self pity is the most selfish thing

enraptured by one’s wishes and fears-

may god guide to service and harmony

and save me from selfish tears.