Saturday, February 26, 2011

In His Wanting

Ignoring the implications of that which is greater than itself, there are those who reach only for the poverty of shadows, never realizing that if the universe has failed to meet its obligations, truest desire is left lacking.

In reality, it is from the outer world we few travel; following paths that lead to the inner and back again to the point of our beginning.

From beginning, love. From love, light. And it is this light that makes the seeing of things possible. So we may see that it is by passion all things were created.

The passion of He who found not His lover, and thereby, in His wanting, created her and seeks her perfection, in order to draw unto Himself that in which He delights and in her returning.


© Rachelle

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

The Timelessness Inside

Inside, there is timelessness. A place where questions have resided since before the answers were conceived. Composed long before I breathed a first breath.

When I first inhaled this foreign substance, I knew its strangeness. Before, the wordlessness was far more comprehensible.

Life can seem so like making solid a thing which should, by nature, remain fluid. As if building a wall around the sky?

Within are secret questions, born before their corresponding inquiries. So it is with the few of us who are here. We are as water turned to stone or mountains that have not yet risen.

© Rachelle
February 2011

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Sunday, February 20, 2011

That Dream You Had

slipping out between the bars
like some spinning stars
like some crashing cars
and the dream you had shook some things up

working on some eloquence
and though a bit intense
it's only common sense
cause the dream you had shook some things up

lay it on the table there
though it seems a little bare
I surely do declare
that dream you had it shook some things up

© Rachelle
2/20/2011


"Dreams"
The Cranberries




Oh, my life is changing everyday,

In every possible way.

And oh, my dreams, it's never quite as it seems,
Never quite as it seems.

I know I've felt like this before, but now I'm feeling it even more,

Because it came from you.
And then I open up and see the person falling here is me,
A different way to be.

Ah, la da ah...

La...

I want more impossible to ignore,

Impossible to ignore.
And they'll come true, impossible not to do,
Impossible not to do.

And now I tell you openly, you have my heart so don't hurt me.

You're what I couldn't find.
A totally amazing mind, so understanding and so kind;
You're everything to me.

Oh, my life,

Is changing every day,
In every possible way.

And oh, my dreams,

It's never quite as it seems,
'Cause you're a dream to me,
Dream to me.

Ah, da, da da da, da, la...

Thursday, February 17, 2011

This Madness

This is reworked piece I wrote a few years back.

Lead Me In This Madness

Grant me what I cannot hold
for its revealing intoxicates.
With your breath you have spun me,
tossed me toward this dusted bowl
from sheer heights, only
to bid me climb once more
these perilous peaks.
Left weary and restless,
I hear your words,
though known, unknown.

I strain to hold this offering,
willing to be hurled down
and then, again, climb higher still.
Lead me firmly in this madness.
Breathe that I might be spun and hurled.
Bid me come and I will come
and hear your words,
though known, unknown.

© Rachelle

 

Monday, February 14, 2011

Speak to us of Love

In honor of Valentine's Day:

Then said Almitra, Speak to us of Love.

And he raised his head and looked upon
the people, and there fell a stillness upon
them. And with a great voice he said:

When love beckons to you, follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.

And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions
may wound you.


And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams
as the north wind lays waste the garden.

 For even as love crowns you so shall he
crucify you. Even as he is for your growth
so is he for your pruning.


Even as he ascends to your height and
caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
so shall he descend to your roots and
shake them in their clinging to the earth.

Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.

He grinds you to whiteness.

He kneads you until you are pliant;
and then he assigns you to his sacred fire,
that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast.

 
All these things shall love do unto you
that you may know the secrets of the heart,
and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart.

But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace
and love's pleasure, then it is better for you
that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's
threshing-floor, into the seasonless world where you
shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep,
but not all of your tears.


Love gives naught but itself
and takes naught but from itself.

Love possesses nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.


When you love you should not say "God is in my heart"
but rather, "I am in the heart of God."

And think not you can direct the course of love,
for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.

Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires,
let these be your desires:


To melt and be like a running brook
that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding
of love; and to bleed willingly and joyfully.


To wake at dawn with a winged heart
and give thanks for another day of loving.
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy.
To return home at eventide with gratitude.
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved
in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.


From "The Prophet" by Kahlil Gibran

"Love Is You"
(instrumental)
Carlos Santana