The Trackless Path

It’s time for a new story. And the story of the hour is an exodus story.  It is a story of coming out of what we know And into all that was before we fell. And there is a Moses in this story, And unseen Holy Moses And he’s coming in the cloud.

We can create a world that is different than The World. Or in other words, we can think and behave In a way that is different and distinct From the prevailing culture. And thus, When the world is going down We may choose to go up and up and up, Our minds, our eyes, our bodies fixed upon the heavens.

If an angel had spare time on his earthly errand, I doubt he’d take a second job To feather his nest. But I wouldn’t put it past him to come begging. For we need to feed such beggars.

The sun is not yet over the mountain, And I have already entered into His World. And because of that, I can face the day.

We can believe that everything has gone to hell. Or we can believe that it is unfolding according to God’s perfect plan. It is our choice. The first belief will cause us to shrink. The last belief will water the seed of gratitude.

I have a home that you can’t see, And I go there often in my mind. But don’t be deceived, Though I find it through imagination, It is more real than anything you’ll find in this world. It’s foundations reach deep into the bedrock of my soul And touch the beginning, the first intent, the source of all creation. It is my eternal home. It is where I choose to live my life. And there, I house my famil...

At the time that I wrote Rush Rush, I was packaging apples, peaches, tomatoes and greens. I worked for a fruit farmer who dabbled in vegetables. Long days, and little pay, but I enjoyed it. It was a family farm. Good people, honest work. And they let me park my little travel trailer next to the house that they maintained for the migrant workers that they imported from Central America. The migrant...

The body is the means through which God imparts His perfect love, For it is the body that suffers. And it is through suffering well  That Godlike love develops. Without the body,  We could not learn to love those  Who hate us, who hurt us, who despitefully use us, and persecute us. None of these painful things can happen to us While we are with Him in spirit, Only in the body. So cherish the body....

I ran a little junk booth for a while. I went around and asked the yard sales to give me what they didn’t sell, and some did. And then I sold it at the swap meet. And I made a few dollars.  Next to my junk booth was another junk booth. And the man who ran the booth was named Rod. Now and then, Rod would come and buy some of my junk to add to his junk. He was my biggest customer. And I was surprise...

I live most of my life in a chair. I eat there. I work there. But I don’t sleep there. The chair, it suits me, Except when I want some exercise Or to take a drive, or a dip in the lagoon With friends and loved ones near. Some dig ditches or some hang from poles in the air, But not for me. For me, you see,  My life is best spent  In a chair.

Things are not what they appear, thank God. And the apparent enemy is my friend When seen through the lens Of what is wrought through tribulation.

It’s a wonder to me that people do anything. But you have to do something, I suppose. And what I mean is business, economy. There is so much work involved. And anytime there is a need, someone fills it. Isn’t that a miracle?! And I suppose that the reason I am surprised  Is because my writing doesn’t feel like all the things I do to make a living. And I wonder if all artists feel that way. Probabl...

To fly upon the back of steel To ride into the risk of death, always, Always, upon the edge of stormy days, And to forget my mother’s worried glances. One passenger, no luggage, A life in the balance, But free from the safety that would close me in And keep me from the baking son And the chapping wind. I am alone in the world. The past crumbles into dust behind me, And no future promises anything...

There is an old machine, A massive conveyer belt I think, or at least it was. It’s rusted and dingy, and it’s parked across the street. It looks like a dinosaur, with it’s the long neck rising, It’s massive head protruding from the top. And nobody notices it there. They drive past on their way to newer, shinier things. But I like the dinosaur, heavy, immovable, and left behind. I am a dinosaur, he...

Let’s say you have a child, And the child goes away to college, And then begins to sow his wild oats. He skips all his classes and refuses to get a job. He sleeps around with everyone and everything. He starts using drugs and stealing. And when confronted with his wrongs, He becomes angry and belligerent. And then, let’s suppose  That he gets away with it. Let’s assume that he prospers in his wick...

I found an arrowhead, And I tied it around my neck As a symbol of power and strength, A memory of the endless wars  And a message to myself and others That I still remember the ancient art. Not really.  It was a trinket tied with leather  That I found in a gift shop. And I thought that it looked cool. I wore it to school the next day And my friends thought that it was cool, So I kept on wearing it...

I’ve found the sacred spectacles That open the portal to things unseen. And every morning, I put them on my nose And stare out a world reborn. And if you want,  I’ll conjure you a pair From my sacred imagination. And there. Now they’re yours. Just believe that it is so. Believe that things are not what they appear And you’re halfway there. It’s your choice. You can keep seeing the world  Through d...

Moon rocks, I suppose, are like any other rocks. Yet they come from so far away. And that makes them something special, But only to those who care. And I don’t care for rocks so much As for the things that can’t be hauled away. Like the feeling that you get looking at rocks With friends who are there to stay. And yet, at end of day,  I wouldn’t mind a trip to the moon If I could make it there and...

Behind the steering wheel of life, So many places I could go. Luckily a still small voice Whispers  What I really want. Otherwise, I might choose differently.

Toilet paper, how fine an unneeded necessity! Woven through the culture Like silk. And what would we do without it? Do without it I suppose. But it’s nice while it lasts! :-)

God, please help me to say NO When the bigger YES is calling.

I eat a lot of bananas, But I am not a monkey, Just a guy with a weak heart. A weak heart means less blood to everything Including the parts that digest the food. And so to keep things moving I have had to adjust. I have had to choose a gentler fare. And I wonder if that’s how life is for all of us. There is no “one size fits all” prescription for life. We do our best to keep the machine running f...

I like to see people more than things. And it’s so often things that are portrayed When you glance at the cover of a magazine. And the famous sell themselves off for parts When what interests me is the whole. All the same, now and then, I search for it in between  And now and again, I find it,  But most of the time it’s fallen through By giving the world the thing it thinks it wants. Perhaps it is...

I stand upon the beach of time As the tide of stars and space Roll in and lap up on my feet. They soothe the memories of my fate And remind me of sacred promises  Whispered in the night sky of my dreams  And there I see, out on the horizon The sacred unseen streets  Of cities built without hands  And the angels that walk there Call to me to step out upon the mystery Of the great ocean of space, an...

My life did not turn out like a Hallmark Movie. But in my heart, in my mind, it’s something like that.