life: acoustic & amplified

poetry, quotes & thoughts about life

weeds and wheat

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Walt Whitman found on pinterest

       Let the weeds and wheat grow together
until the harvest.
—Matthew 13.30

Your difficulties belong.
What angers and seduces you,
what pains you or confounds you,
are pages of the book.
They are your teachers.
They are the rough desert
where your savior abides.

The story of grace
has many chapters,
and much suspense.
Read the whole book,
every page,
and keep in your heart
the gift of hope:
knowing there is wheat
among the weeds
the Faithful One
knows how to harvest,
knowing the story
isn’t over yet.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
http://www.unfoldinglight.net

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pinterest.com / al513

I have taken back my own listening

The weeping cherries have cried their last for me this spring and are spent and ragged from their bouts with this wracking grief

We have eaten cake and shared a toast or two, full of promises and new love

The dogwoods and lilacs having  waited, now bloom just for me perfumed air follows me for all these miles

My heart is still full and empty at the same time, life is always bitter and always sweet.  always both at once.

Flaming bushes hatch their eggs and throw holy joy into the blue sky

My tears find their way to the ocean, to mingle with their brothers and sisters

Freedom is never free, the cost is always found on the edge of a cruel mans sword

I lay on feathers of lost innocence those birds plucked for my dinner I will eat with relish

My body, still adjusting to this new age, burns away the old days, realizing this present moment is all I have

What does it mean that I spoke, for a minute, about you, about good hair, you in a suit and tie, aesthetically pleasing to the eye and ear?

I wonder what will become of me in these nexts, in these upcomings, in these wild, deep blue yonders

My new friend, Khalid Bin Al Kamaal reminds me:

‘Don’t wander off alone in thought lest you dear feel lost’ – I have not listened to his well-intended advice

I am forever lost to my own thinking, forever making towards the light of my own future, forever stepping into the now of my own footsteps,

forever inhabiting my own self, forever revealing my own hearted purpose for be-ing here, forever knowing myself as I am known

Over and over I find new truth, for better or worse, I am that I am

Amy Lloyd

pinterest

The road in the end taking the path the sun had taken,

into the western sea, and the moon rising behind you

as you stood where ground turned to ocean: 

no way to your future now but the way your shadow 

could take, walking before you across water, 

going where shadows go, no way 

to make sense of a world that wouldn’t 

let you pass, except to call an end 

to the way you had come,

to take out each frayed letter you had brought

and light their illumined corners; and to read

them as they drifted on the late western light;

to empty your bags; to sort this and to leave that;

to promise what you needed to promise all along,

and to abandon the shoes that brought you here

right at the water’s edge, not because you had given up

but because now, you would find a different way to tread,

and because, through it all, part of you would still walk on,

no matter how, over the waves.

Finisterre.

From PILGRIM : Poems by David Whyte

Once in a while

I just let time wear on;

Leaning against a solitary pine

Standing speechless,

As does the whole universe.

Ah, who can share

This solitude with me?

🌲

~ Ryokan

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