First to the Priests


Fully alert
in the darkness of night
the Burning Bush alive in His Heart
added to this
the propulsion of youth
He cannot wait for His Body to catch up
He cannot wait for the ripening of time
the knights must be awakened

She finds Him there
casting Light among the shadows
illuminating the paths of His dreams
but they are drowsy
and succumb to sleep
complacency squelching the urgency
to ride forth

Time erodes
and darkness drugs the Earth

She sees His Light
bursting from every tabernacle
begging to be recognized
longing to be embraced
straining to be unleashed
the trickled response
is enough to make Her weep

Wake up! Wake up!
She calls to the knights
those guardians of the Flame
The Dream is alive!
The broken Body is enough for all
Just open your eyes
and breathe

Now She waits
and the world waits
to see if the knights will catch fire
to see if they will propel
a global Revolution of Love
where the brilliant vibrancy
of a colossal blaze of souls
will reflexively initiate
an imminent and glorious rising
of the Son



with a complexity of patterns
pausing for you to contemplate
and then changing
sometimes with a slight shift
sometimes in a dramatic disruption
demanding your focus
your engagement
it is impossible to remain unaltered
the colours speak to you
and then realign
you can close your eyes
but not for long
as the key to your internal survival
is choosing to behold the Light
and perceiving how it enlivens the colours
you must seek out the Beauty
step forth into Wonder
even if what initially appears as chaos
breaks your heart

Transformative Horizons


Coming out of hibernation
I long to create…
a garden

And the rhythm of creating the garden
pulls me further and further
out of hibernation

Colours within me
colours all around me
life beckoning life

All of us connected
all of us pulsing
as we reach up and allow ourselves to be kissed
by the Sun

What I Wish I Could Tell Members of the Church


Don’t keep me at arm’s length
with your stoic language
especially at the moment of deepest intimacy
the Communion of hearts and souls and bodies
Don’t force me away
with your incense and perfumed alcohol and chemicals
stealing the life-breath from my aching lungs
Don’t try to put me into boxes and then discard me
when I bleed out from the confines or simply do not fit
like the boxes you construct for God
Don’t give me your coldness or ignore me or argue me away
because my neediness and imperfections
threaten your perfectly calculated comfort zones


See me
Show me Jesus
That’s all I really want
Show me His Light
Show me that He cares
Show me that He can laugh with me and cry with me and feel my agony and delight
Help me
there is so much that I cannot do on my own
and so much that requires such colossal efforts on my part
you have the power to lift my burdens
Meet me outside
where I am standing looking in
Smash those boxes
release your humanity
release the Spirit
See Jesus in me
and let me engage with Jesus in you

Active & Receptive Creativity


A musician
draws forth from within himself
gives expression
through sound
and engages with what he has manifested

I recognize beauty
draw it into myself
allow it to take up residence in my heart
and engage with it

The musician and I
participate in
the breathing of creativity
its inhaling
its exhaling
wonder inside of us
wonder all around us
by allowing it to grow

Resisting the Vortex


Over and over again
they invite me to join them in the swirling vortex
to willingly be immersed in the dance
that would remove pieces and pieces of myself
as I struggle to make sense of something that is always shifting
always distorting
always being renamed what it is not
continuously contrary to what I know to be
in the stillness of my heart

And they cast their labels upon me
labels of their own projections
an inverted seduction
to draw me closer to the poison vortex
to make me think that I could maybe make a difference
if I would only speak their language
engage them according to their ever-mutating rules

But it is insanity
and I won’t play the game
I won’t succumb to the twisted guilt
or the rash impulse to leap
to sacrifice myself
in a vain all-or-nothing hope
that my love and intensity and everything that I am
could dispel the motion
could bring calm and clarity and healing
to a toxic storm that has been raging for generations

It would swallow me whole

There is no answer
I cannot make it stop
and even my resolved disengagement
rips at my heart
for I can still see the vortex shredding lives
as it is continually fed
by its ardent adorers

I will not play the game
I will not play the game
and even though I cannot stop my own pain
I will tell the truth
I will pour out my love to those who will accept it
I will nurture my own creativity
I will embrace wonder and stand in awe
of the endless beauty that breathes
and calls to me
outside of the swirling vortex

Fire Unconsuming

“What then is my nature? Fire is my nature.”
~ St. Catherine of Siena

There is no set mold
for being a Christian woman
you don’t have to be meek and mild
or work to strangle your own voice
You can be full of fire
with a storm of colours
flying off you in every direction
without compromising your womanhood
your ingrained femininity
or His infinite pleasure
in delighting in the wild individual
He created you to be

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