Visions and Songs

I. There are things that I can’t get off my mind, and there are things that come to me in dreams.  There are hopes of sweet torrents that seem impossible, and there are hidden redemptions that are granted in the smallest measure of wine.   There is something that would be given to me in infinite amount, and of the same thing I would turn around and spend an infinite amount.

From Dec 27th:

The original lover

Whose kisses are living water

And satisfy every deep desire

Moving in sunlight

Moving in shadow

Moving in water

Moving in me

Re-ligamenting a torn world

Putting back the petals of a flower

Putting hope into broken hearts

Putting peace into broken homes

Giving faces to the forgotten

Giving names to the lost

Ocean waves of fresh water

A world of wells of fresh water

To my lips

II.  I posit the question (to myself):

What is the difference between the love that pursues me and the love that I pursue?

There are three possibilities:

The first is the love that pursues me, but is not pursued by me.

The second is the love that both pursues and is pursued by me.

The third is the love that is pursued by me but does not pursue me.

(everything exists in one of those three categories, and if no category seems sufficient then it certainly falls under the first, as does everything in the third)


From Dec 28th:

You make my heart strong

You are my hope for the future

You are my hope for the moment

You are my freedom from the past

I find rest in you

I find strength in you

I’ve found my salvation

III.  So what is the nature of pursuing… to catch you and keep you (but not ensnare)?  And what is the nature of following… to go where you go and do what you do (but not mimic)?  Sometimes there’s both, and sometimes it shifts back and forth between confirming what is and questioning what is not.  Some days it’s in fishing boats, and some years it’s miles and miles of desert, with no oasis in sight.  No trees, no shadow but my own, always a drop in my cup, but never more than just enough; and my tears, the sand just dries them up.  But that’s the nature of devotion.  To breathe and walk, breathe and walk.

From Dec 29th:

It’s not quite like anything else

This place we’ve found

Nowhere was right for us

So we made a place of our own

If you feel like you don’t belong

Here’s a hand you can hold onto

My house has enough rooms

For all of us

If we abide in each other

And if you take me home

And if I take you home

For good

IV.  There is the sweetness, the desert rain.  There is home.  Not between the wanderings, but in every step, in the stretching of tendon and the flexing of muscle, and in the very thought of stepping.  When warmed, when relished, there is home.  When neglected, when exploited, there is home.  At the pig farm, and on the return, there is home.  When it is recognized, finally!

The hearth fire, the desert cold, the love-sickness, the dry tears, in all things is the love that pursues and is always pursuing.  In the face of other chases, in the firelight of other loves, through the dust of the feet of other masters, it remains.   It does not fear them.  It does not withdraw when rejected, it does not stay behind when abandoned.  It is patient, kind, does not envy, does not boast, is not proud, is not rude, is not self-seeking, is not easily angered, keeps no record of wrongs, does not delight in evil but rejoices in the truth, always protects, always trusts, always hopes, and always perseveres.  Love, home, Jesus never fails.

From Dec 30th:

You’re not what I would make of you

(Thank God!)


2 Responses to “Visions and Songs”

  1. mattsmithis Says:

    Re-ligamenting? Is that even a word. But the imagery is so perfect. It’s both sad and uplifting, making my heart glad. Yes, these dead bones can live. Beautiful and I hope you took the beginning as light hearted.

    “Not between the wanderings, but in every step…” May God keep you.

    Beautiful words.

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