hermit fish

Winter Solstice

Winter Solstice
Perhaps for a moment the typewriters will stop clicking, the wheels stop rolling the computers desist from computing, and a hush will fall over the city.
For an instant, in the stillness, the chiming of the celestial spheres will be heard as earth hangs poised in the crystalline darkness, and then gracefully tilts.
Let there be a season when holiness is heard, and the splendor of living is revealed.
Stunned to stillness by beauty we remember who we are and why we are here.
There are inexplicable mysteries.
We are not alone.
In the universe there moves a Wild One whose gestures alter earth's axis toward love.
In the immense darkness everything spins with joy.
The cosmos enfolds us.
We are caught in a web of stars, cradled in a swaying embrace, rocked by the holy night, babes of the universe.
Let this be the time we wake to life, like spring wakes, in the moment of winter solstice

- Rebecca Parker

Gaudete

Gaudete

Oil lamp
thermaling incense
icon of John the Baptist
balsam evergreen
glowing
in early morning
sun
harmony
simple
beauty
‘Gaudete’
Screenshot_2017_12_23__09_56

“Advent Poem” By St. John of the Cross

“Advent Poem” By St. John of the Cross

If you want, the Virgin will come walking down the road 
pregnant with the Holy and say, 
“I need shelter for the night. 
Please take me inside your heart, my time is so close.” 
Then, under the roof of your soul, 
you will witness the sublime intimacy, 
the divine, the Christ, taking birth forever, 
as she grasps your hand for help, 
for each of us is the midwife of God, each of us. 
Yes, there, under the dome of your being, 
does creation come into existence eternally, 
through your womb, dear pilgrim, 
the sacred womb of your soul,
as God grasps our arms for help:
for each of us is His beloved servant never far. 
If you want, the virgin will come walking down the street, 
pregnant with Light, and sing!

Consolation wthout a cause

What are they
these unbidden
moments
appearing
even in the midst of angst
flooding
a joy sweet
a sure knowing
a quiet
startling
the Jesuits call them
"consolation without a cause"
I wonder if they
are not
the fog suddenly
lifted
blown by an angel
to what is
there
always

Two nights

two nights
and days
of
incessant
wind
cold
gusting
irritating
trees
twisting
bending
swinging
wind-chimes
noise
now
evening
stillness
absolute
quiet
rest
Elijah’s
covered
bow


such
stillness
after
yesterday's
wind
is
presence