The Trackless Path

When the journey ahead requires faith, And when you are afraid of what’s next, Don’t spend much time thinking about it. Simply take a step, and then another step. Step into the thing you fear Imagining all the while The deliverance That you know is coming. And if you are led by providence Comfort will come in the movement. But don’t imagine worst-case scenarios. Picture best-case scenarios as you...

I know that shelter is needed, And every want must be supplied. But my life is an experiment To see the unseen hand provide.

I can see a new life on the horizon. And all I own fits on my back, A little backpack at that, All on my back. What a relief!

Somewhere, always, hell has raged. And when anyone has found a piece of heaven It is because they chose to ignore the hell that raged And that choice, the choice of love and peace To spite the hell that rages, I think, perhaps, Is the stuff of which heaven's made.

I'm digging down to the center of the earth, And on my way, I pick up diamonds  And bring ‘em back up To the surface. But nobody wants ‘em Except the occasional crazy loon. But I'm not crazy. I dig for diamonds On my way to the center of the earth.

I remember the day when they walked away, They stepped out into the storm, And some into the forest, Some to the desert. And we haven't seen them since Except in dreams and in our imagination. They haunt us there. And everywhere we turn, We find their absence calling us into the unknown. And the world is worse off without them, It grows darker and darker every day. How we hate Him for taking t...

Rather than go to war, we withdraw. We retreat, retreat, retreat, Until, if we eat, It is because we are fed by angels.  And then, there, we find the sacred place, A world apart. It is a land of miracles. And it now dawns upon the world by faith.

I long to leave in silence, To be around, then disappear. It is in keeping with my nature, To pack my things by moonlight And be gone before breakfast. And I swear that when the heavens  Rolled forth into existence that I knew That this would be my calling, To witness with my presence, And let Him witness  When I'm gone.

I cannot make heads or tails of hell. My face is toward the light-filled place And I will not turn back anymore forever.

How often I have longed for a hand upon my back, A reasurring gesture, a friendly touch. There is so much That we don’t understand. And demons wait in the wings To seperate us from the ones we love. But I have not forgotten how the world began. It rises in my sacred imagination.  And I see you there, The sacred one, The friend that I’ve forgotten. And from that place, I reach out  To put a hand up...

I’ve taken on with some Tongans Laying down cement. And I like it. Long hours and  Heavy work in the wet Missouri heat. And when we’re done, we eat and eat. There is a kind-heartedness about them, A purity and generosity that the world is missing. And it’s all about the family, the family. The ties of Father Abraham. And the branches have reached over the wall to me, As if, for this little stint o...

We can only do a little, But if we do it faithfully,  And consistently, Over time, It adds up to a lot.

My life has started over at nearly fifty. That’s how it seems. And I wonder How much work I can accomplish In the service of the Great Unseen Before it’s time to go.

It is a comfort to realize  That life will soon be over. Think of it. All that we think we are Is temporary. And yet I suppose If you believe that you’re “all that”, Then the thought that it will soon end Is not so comforting.

The coming world is slower And as we slow down, We will rise To meet the angels  Who have time to spare. But you knew that. You knew That all the rushing, toiling, pressing, and grinding, Was blocking your other ears, your other eyes. So slow down. Take time to listen. The new world can only come  One hearer at a time.

There's usually a little real In the midst of pretense. And where there is any There is hope.

Old Joe sits on the porch and moans,  Or rather, growls, but under his breath As the storm clouds gather on the horizon. He’s seen it a thousand times in his long dog life, The white, the grey, the nearly black, And he knows that it will rain, Like cats and dogs, Like cats and dogs They say. Why do they put it that way? He doesn’t rain. He sits and stays, And watches the horizon every day. And bec...

“Come on, Jack,” he said. And I did. And we went down to the dealership And he bought a new truck. The color was black. The Interior was tan. And it smelled like new leather. We drove to the edge of town, And past, to the border of our state, And past, to the Canadian Border, And past, through Saskatchewan, Alberta, and British Columbia, And past, into the Yukon Territory, And past, until finally,...

Her backdoor opens out onto the rooftop. And of an evening, she steps out of this world And into the otherworldly light That can only be found On rooftops. And she keeps it a secret, Lest her neighbors suggest That she entertain them there. But one day, she thinks That she will share it  With someone special. Until then, it is her private portal, Her sacred chamber,  Her hidden temple. And yet, I...

Come on. Let’s go. Where? Out of all you know? Why? Because it’s over? Why? I don’t know. But I have bills to pay. I know. And a mortgage, A career, and dreams, And people who rely on me To negotiate our little piece of hell. I know. But it’s over. Let’s go.

Because He came We do not need to fight about it. Because He’s here, We can have peace. And it’s ok that some May be wrong about it. We will not resist evil,  As he said. But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also. Matthew 5:39 

If you count on books to quench your thirst for truth You will be always panting after something That is just beyond your reach. And the books will pile high. And you will grow old And die As you turn the leaf Of yet another volume. And it’s because the thing you seek is hiding. And only an unseen hand Can turn the key,  Unlock the mystery, Open the door to the thing you seek. And once it does, yo...

The hermit who hides himself in God Knows that what he does in silence  Is very important.

The world will never become whole  So long as we pray for what we want. We must learn to pray for that which hurts. “O my Father, if it be possible, Let this cup pass from me: Nevertheless not as I will, But as thou wilt.” It appears that this is the example. And why? Because, while veiled in flesh, We do not know what is good for us or for the world. We have but two eyes, one life, one brain. And...

The deeper I grow, the quieter it is, And the closer I am to home. I will dig, dig, down deep Toward the silent place And there, draw nourishment  With unnumbered tentacles To feed the leafy branches Light years away. And little will they know that it was me, That fed their best dreams of all that’s real. And I will sleep in silence As they praise the light And say, Oh God, How great! Oh God, How...