Conquest And Annexation

 

Red and orange and yellow and brown still cling like fire at the top, waging today’s battle against tomorrow’s anesthetizing chills.

Torrential winds finally loosen then affix fall’s crisp, brittle colors to their fatal hiding places, the soil already hungry for its next conquest and annexation.

Peace

Copyright 2018

Image Credit: Pixabay

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Darkness and Light

 

The poets remind us that darkness is older than light. For God first pierced the darkness and called his handiwork “good.”

But darkness is not only older, it is that to which we one day must return. It is a place where our shadows will become one with our yet unformed but truest selves.

Still, we struggle fiercely against the dark. Wasting far too many hours taking refuge in the golden glow of pocket screens. Absorbed by every fantasy that comes along, but mostly ones that tap into limited imaginations and spew back false notions of our own virtual humanity.

Perhaps it’s not the darkness that we fear.

Perhaps it’s our misconceptions about what will be found upon our return.

Peace

Copyright 2018

Image Credit: Pixabay

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Myself

 

“Why are you always contradicting me?” I asked myself.

”I’m not!” I answered back.

I laughed.

”Perhaps it’s because I was conceived in the darkness and still search for all things light?”

“No, that’s not it at all. I was born with luminous, penetrating eyes; ones that can even pierce shadows. And I surrender each night into dreams so vivid that they can make me cry.

am the light.”

“No!” I retorted. “I am just some muted gray matter, surrounded by all things black. I err when I acquit myself far too easily, and in failing to see beyond my own dark pretense.

For I am always man.”

Peace

Copyright 2018

Image Credit: Pixabay

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The Subway *Dance*

 

As many of my readers know, every morning I head into NYC to my day job. In order to avoid as much of the commuting hassle as possible, I always try to get a very early start.

That has many advantages, including the fact that I get to bypass the most crowded commuter trains and subways and all of the additional frenetic energy that goes along with them.

One of the other advantages: because of the timing, I more or less get to see the same people in the same subway car every day as I travel from Penn Station to the downtown area. I don’t know where these folks get on, but I do tend to see them every day at 34th Street.

We are all such creatures of habit and necessity.

I realized something today.

It’s what I have dubbed the subway *dance* – a very slow ritual that can turn complete strangers into mutual witnesses of existence.

I’m thinking of a particular guy who wears a “Google Security” jacket, the one who gets off at 14th Street close to where he works.

For months, I had noticed him already seated when I got on. We never acknowledged each others’ presence or even made eye contact.

We were both being so NYC smart, right?

Slowly, over some weeks, very brief eye contact was made as we begin to recognize each other in our daily routines.

But nothing more.

Then one day, a slight nod of the head – who knows why? Weeks of this barely noticeable gesture followed.

Then, ever so faintly, a silent “hello” was mouthed when we first met up.

More weeks followed.

This past week, a smile was added. Then a “good morning.”

Today, we offered to each other “a good day” as we departed company, just one subway stop together.

It’s been a silent dance.

An observable ritual.

A hit and run human connection.

Two weary – and wary – NYC strangers meeting up, however briefly, in their daily routine. We have become mutual witnesses of and to each other in a city full of strangers.

Perhaps never to know more about each other.

Only that we existed here, together, in this place, at this time. But perhaps that’s enough.

And it’s all good.

Peace

Copyright 2018

Image Credit: Pixabay

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The Frontispiece Of Our Lives

 

If we only knew where to search for it among the dark and hidden places, we’d find the frontispiece of our lives awaiting not just our dulled imaginations but also our unbridled delights.

Fear alone cannot guide us, nor will fancy words reveal the way. Yet every step is illustrated, as if from the beginning, as if to the end, exposing each of life’s colors, hues, and contrasts.

We need only set out to discover them all.

And breathe.

Peace

Copyright 2018

Image Credit: Pixabay

 

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In The Darkest Moments

 

Chaos usurps the day,

As fear stands at the ready

Groping for yet another breach.

Stirred, we push back. Again.

Only this time, questioning

Whether our will, our strength

Can wholly resist

The lure of surrender.

Each assault has extracted

its price.

Leaving scars physical,

And spirits depleted,

diminished, defeated.

We’d all too readily

concede this clash

And console ourselves

With avarice and flesh.

Still, you spur us on

To free our hearts,

To uncloak our eyes,

To cast away our vanity.

And to seek anew

your promises

That your light will,

Yet again and forever,

Pierce the darkness.

And that you are with us

always.

Even until the end of

the age.

 

Peace

Copyright: 2015 and 2018 (Revised and Republished)

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Autumn Lives

 

Leaves tussling against autumn’s chill in one final offering of determination and grit.

Literal self surrendering, then abandoning, everything in exchange for moments of dignity and the briefest of mournings.

But look not to them for signs or symbols or secret messages.

For you have cleaved more than just the sky.

Peace

Copyright 2018

Image Credit: Pixabay

 

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Of Beginnings And Endings

 

Someday, if we can step into that space between derangement and conformity, set aside might be every future expectation for atonement and truth. For in that moment, the precious freedom finally won, the immunity we thought would deliver us, often becomes the very anchor that holds us in place.

Still, we are forever heir to all things yet possible, and grantor of all things left behind.

Peace

Copyright 2018

Image Credit: Pixabay

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The Very One That Moves The World

 

It’s not your story alone that will save the world, not your desperate attempt to play universal confessor.

There are too many fissures, too many hidden doubts, to allow such a reckless undertaking. One that will fall apart before it can even begin.

Instead, shake the dust off your guilt-laden prayer rug, rend your anesthetized heart, and offer yourself up as an instrument of grace and civility worthy of those with whom you dwell, at this moment and in this place.

The soul that you brush up against may be the very one that moves the world.

Peace

Copyright 2018

Image Credit: Pixabay

 

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