Sea of Love

White sails, hope unfurled, wind-whipped, slicing the sea. 

Ocean spray, salt taste, stinging the face, a foretaste. 

Bow bounding into blue mystery, riding high, and happy at the helm. 

We are bound together on a high adventure, and joined with the sea, we become three. 

The blue expanse, the unfathomable depths, I feel the sea beginning to rise in me. 

Life preserver within reach, I could jump and float, but the blue depths keep drawing and calling.  

I lean in, let go of helm, grasp the mast, and freely bind myself to thee, as we go into the sea. 

The Prayer of Tehard

Since, by virtue of my consent, I shall have become a living particle of the Body of Christ, all that affects me must in the end help on the growth of the total Christ. Christ will flood into and over me, me and my cosmos.

. . . May my acceptance be ever more complete, more comprehensive, more intense!

May my being, in its self-offering to you, become ever more open and more transparent to your influence!

And may I thus feel your activity coming ever closer, your presence growing ever more intense, everywhere around me.

The Door of Suffering

Suffering is like a door, and the hinge of that door is our intension.  Our intension emerges from a deep place of interior freedom. We can either close the door, and wall ourselves off, creating a space of bitterness and self isolation, or we can open the door by making ourselves an offering, and in so doing we step into the wide open space of surrender, acceptance and grace. 

Without this door of suffering, it becomes difficult to find the open and unitive space, and we get confined and compressed into our egoic or false self.  The suffering that seems to limit us and break us down is that which paradoxically expands our capacity and connectivity. It is the door of powerlessness that opens out onto a vast terrace of grace. 

Jesus stands at the door and knocks, and as we open and enter into his life, which is really our pascal mystery, it opens out to eternal life. We come to realize that we are stronger than death, and suffering need not be a tragedy.  Yes, for a time we may have to squeeze through a difficult and narrow passage, but along the way, my pain has become His pain, and our pain. His glory is my glory. His joy, my joy, and our joy.

A Wind of Being

As I walk in fields of thought, and feel the the crunch of earth below. 

Something arrises out of the plain, a wind of being, without a  name. 

What embraces me, no hands can hold or eye can see. 

It breathes into me, like the sea, eternal and free.