Thursday, June 30, 2016

For the Pilgrims

Delight in the barefoot grass between toes. 
Dare to be without shoes here, 
Where shoes are expected. 

Slowly the smiles will find their way 
Back to the place they belong. 

Peacefully lift your face into the stars - 
Go with the swirl of light 
Scattered across possibility. 

Every dream is striking the matchbox 
And lighting candles 
For the pilgrims. 

Too many dreams are embers on the path: 
See the ones who love, give soft breath 
Without expectation. 

Every dream glows 
Until the feeding of the fire 
Ignites the night. 

All things will once again 
Feel like they are bound to happen 
With grace. 

All things will once again feel 
Like they are 
Possible. 

Jenneth Graser

Painting "Ascension" J. Kirk Richards


Friday, June 24, 2016

Rest in the Centre of Things - Five Minute Friday

Under the river, the riverbed
Under the mountain, cavernous rooms.
Under my mind, my heart rests.

Beneath the roots, the water
Under the waterfall, the pool so deep.
Under the sea, great darkness in crevices.

Under my mind, my mouth, my speech
Observations of word and thought.
Under the boat, a rudder.

Beneath the hen, chicks are warmed
Under the feathers, the skin.
Below the clouds, the rain falls.

Beneath the surface of appearances
The reality abides -
Underneath the symptoms, the source.

Under the heart, the Godhead hides
At rest in the centre of things.

At rest in the centre of things.

Jenneth Graser



Sunday, June 12, 2016

Adrift

On the cusp of the already
and the not as yet,
I am carried on gossamer silken
threads.

High into the thermals, seeds
made for being carried on winds
rise in circular navigation
and I go with it.

I feel gravitation as a memory
and thought as a possible stance,
but Spirit knows what is best
and so I acquiesce.

It has been a tremor
of fluctuating postulations
without getting to grips
with any formula.

A mystery must remain so
until, leaps across time
make conjunctions with reason.

Perhaps a year will take me
to the root of the great oak;
for now I am carried, hushed
across treetops.

For now I am touching base
with the uppermost leaves
at the soles of my feet
and drifting higher.

Then higher again.

Jenneth Graser




Thursday, June 9, 2016

The Wonder of Normal Things

To listen to the breath of the wind
In every word of your being,
Where you wait for me
Alive to the outsideoftime
In the wonder of normal things:
This is what I want.

To be aware,
Notice the light through my petals
Unfold in the soft rain,
Be awake to the gift of now
Listen again and then hear:
This is what I want.

To slow into my breath
And find you there breathing,
Where the kingdom within
Is my friendship of Trinity
To be always and forever one:
This is what I have.

All of my wants become
A part of your wants,
As all of my time
Becomes a part of your time.

I am a child of the dreams you
scatter through the air
into the hearts of every dreamer,
planted.

Jenneth Graser



Tuesday, May 24, 2016

Tapestry

You feed me threads of colour woven
through the tapestry you have chosen

for my life, there have been choices proffered
and I may freely act on what's been offered.

What will happen if I feed the colour back
in the complete wrong direction, off track?

Scientifically deserted, mathematically absurd
to turn away from equations and the written word.

But I feel loved behind the tapestry, unseen
hands keep feeding colours, it certainly must mean

that there is not so much a right or wrong.
Rather I discover you send me what belongs

for moments such as these, when it comes to me
that my life is not determined by another history.

I must weave the colours given in the way that pleases
and find out for myself who you are to me, Jesus.

Jenneth Graser



Expectations - Five Minute Friday

What have I discovered along the way?
To have expectations
is a very natural inclination.
But to listen to the voices of each?

I'm choosing to dial down the clamour,
by tuning into the silence -

Of God's expectations.
I am not expected to be anything
other than me.

I find the greatness of love makes room
for surprises and a bended
fork in the road.

I find as I cause what I expect to whisper
away on the four winds,
I feel lighter and less
disappointed.

I feel open to something new about life,
about God, about me.

Let the things I expect:
not define me as much.

Let the ways of life:
be ways of wonder
and trust.

Jenneth Graser


Thursday, May 12, 2016

Preparations for Eternity - in memory of Leaan

The day recorded on the calendar:
When realms meet at the point of death,
What do I wish for then?

People are the gift
Nothing else will carry through -
No ornament, or clutter kept
Or pendant, medal on the wall
No guilty stain, or shadow of regret.

Are words spoken in the libraries of time
Stored for future viewing?

Will I move into forever with a spirit that I grew
And watered, turned towards
The hands of my Great Gardener
For secret rendezvous of hearts combined?

Unfold each lesson from the offerings before me
As a gift from wisdom to be learnt and to be sung.

Build into the spirit, listen for the steps ahead.
Create beauty from the ashes
Allow the stars to touch my soul.

Hold the hands of my dear children,
Breathe into the space life makes
For those who set aside what does not matter.

Look carefully into the eyes of others,
Spend time with the people who are my treasure
Instead of money on what cannot last for long.

Get rid of what can't satisfy,
Be generous to the world at large.
Don't try to always understand what's going on.


Be one with my true self.
Embrace the unknown - mystery must do its work.
Turn over stones to see the smallness there.

Keep on peeling off the scales of all life throws
Massage oils of forgiveness into my heart
Dream and don't give up on dreaming,
Live in the senses of the now.

When it comes time to pass on through, this is what I wish for:
That eternity will not take me by surprise
If I make friends with it
This side.

Jenneth Graser

Sansui vintage Japanese scroll painting, Sage & Pine Tree Mountain




Monday, May 2, 2016

Dream Dancer

She has taken off the clothes
of borrowed dreams
and stepped into the wardrobe
of colour, texture, drop and line.

Gingerly, she reaches out
for gloves of new purpose
and dares to linger over
jewels, plentiful.

It is time to slip into
delicate intention,
to feel the fabric
fold onto her body warm.

She walks into a night
so close, heaven can be reached
by taking one deep breath.
Her eyes struggle to take
in beauty so extravagant.

She feels the rise
and fall of her garments
and begins to take the first
steps of dreamers dancing
under quilted nights of sequined stars.

She contemplates firework astronomy;
and makes for the road
of those who find their way.

She does not need to ask permission.

Jenneth Graser

Artwork - Christian Schloe

Tuesday, February 16, 2016

Ever Unknowing

I wish to have the fragrance of your face
Linger in-between me,

As if I walk through your garden every morning
As if I live with the feel of Heaven
On my creases.

I wish to be one flesh with your life
At ease with the knowing of you
As you draw me magnetic
To the ever knowing
Ever unknowing.

I am awake in the middle of the night
With longing.
It must be that I caught a glimpse
Of your eyes in the dark.

Will you be this close in the morning?

I will be your friend;
I will be here for you when the first bird sings.
I will dip my feet in your river
With the baptism of first light
As the dawn-rise of another world
Blushes the time of mine, with eternity.

It is only a short while...
A blink in the scheme of things.

It is only a short while
Until I breathe you in, until

I breathe you in.

J Graser



















Friday, January 8, 2016

First Time Feeling - Five Minute Friday

The first time I took a breath in this world
The first time I opened my eyes to see your face

The first time I held an autumn leaf, turning colours as it whirled to the ground
The first time I held your hand

The first time I saw the mountains of snow
And the first time I fell to the snow and made an angel
All that happiness spread out under my body.

The first time I dreamed and woke up remembering what I dreamed about
The first time I baked in the kitchen with Mom and laughed in the flour drifting

The first time we moved over seas and started up a whole new life
The first time I felt my heart twist with my first disappointment
The first time I cried in the rain and let it soak me, through.

The first time I felt your presence touch me so deep I knew you were real
The first time I climbed up the mountain and the sunset colours
Poured over us in the waterfall of clouds, orange, pink, gold.

There is a first time for everything.
And when I woke up this morning, I had that kind of First Time Feeling
That everything that feels old and stale, is going to have a chance
To feel First Time
Again.

Saturday, December 19, 2015

Lean the light of Christ into the heart of the world

On 25 December 2004 my husband Karl and I made our way on ferry across gleaming waters to the paradise of Langkawi Island in Malaysia.  Christmas on honeymoon, on one of the most glorious islands of the world!  Little did we know that a mere 24 hours later the world would look so different for so many when an earthquake hit Sumatra and sent shockwaves in the form of very disturbed waters, in fact a frightening tsunami rushing towards the coastlines of many nations.


 

 
We went for a morning walk after breakfast on the morning of the 26 December, to find a great recession of water and wandered around looking for shells thinking this was some peculiar island low tide phenomenon.  In the bliss of honeymoon, I found myself totally forgetting the advice of a former geography teacher - to always run in the opposite direction when you see a strange pulling back of the tides.  Then the waves started coming in again from the right and swirling around toward the left, turning over a jet-ski and surging under a yacht that managed somehow to stay afloat.
It was then that we decided to rent a motorbike, to move onto higher terrain and away from the uncertain waters.  We rented a bike and headed off, but Karl stopped along the way to see if we could dry off a poor drenched kitten affected by the first set of waves.  Then Karl panned the video camera around and we saw a dark wave of water headed towards us.  And we could see it was not going to stop at the shore. 
“Get on the bike!”
But we could not see the ignition which was tucked out of sight as the hotel had started it for us!
“RUN! RUN!!!”
So Karl and I ran a short distance up a curved bridge and watched as the water surged over the road, and under the bridge upriver, like a river in flood, but in the wrong direction.  We realised we would have been stuck in the water if we had not stopped by the side of the road.  And then the sight of the muddy homes filled with water, the wrecked cars and damaged property.  But no loss of life that we knew of on Langkawi Island.  Little did we know that a couple hundred kilometres north of us in Thailand, people by the thousands were losing their lives.  The local paper showed the rising toll of deaths, but we remained strangely numb to the reality of the facts.  It was only when we came back home and watched footage my Dad had recorded for us that the tears began to flow.


When Christmas time comes with such tragedy, it reminds me of the reeling shock of recent world events, so close to the celebration of our Saviour’s birth.  This can throw us into confusion and dismay.  We don’t know how to process the horror of such uncontrollable events.
But the light that shines so brightly through the coming of Jesus to earth, who was willing to suffer unimaginable pain for us and carry the sufferings of the world, outweighs the greatest turmoil and puts us into a place of perspective once again.  The question is, how do we shine the light of hope into a world disorientated by such uncertainty?  How do we shine this light into so many great and diverse needs?   
Friends of ours, Don and Margie Cook, began an organisation called Hands on Houses (www.handsonhouses.com) to build homes for the very poor, widows and disabled people in coastal villages of South India.  They have been there for 8 ½ years and have built 131 houses with a small team of 4 and then 12 local men.  Margie and Don are planning on starting Hands on Houses in Malawi too, hopefully in 2016, and are currently waiting on donations to make this a possibility.
The inspiration of this couple shows me how it is possible to take the light of Christ and make it a reality to so many in need of light.  How Jesus causes resurrection and rebirth to take place through ordinary people like you and me, so that other ordinary people can experience these miracles too.  People whose lives turn around by acts of mercy, acts of kindness.  Widows and disabled people who have never heard of the love of Jesus, now see it demonstrated through hands of love and action that bring them a new hope for life and a complete turnabout of destiny.
But how do we see the afflicted in our own neighbourhoods?  When we can’t be with people who have been affected by these disasters around the world in a physical way, we can look to see the people God places in our day to day life and shine our light of hope and possibility, right here and now - in our churches, our workplaces, our families, our communities.  And we can listen for the prompting of the Holy Spirit about where to reach out with the loving action of God’s compassionate grace.
Our church is neighbours with a township called Vrygrond, a community of many mostly African nations all gathered into one place.  Some other inspiring friends of ours, Anton and Elana Cuyler, left England where they had been living for some time, and came back to their homeland trusting that God would show them what to do when they got here.  They felt to come to Muizenberg, and were led to the Bay Community church.  Incrementally over the past number of years, God has opened door after door and led them step by step to reach into the Vrygrond community with hope, love and empowering action. http://thesozofoundation.org.za/our-story/.  The miracle of the Sozo Foundation is bringing hope to people with often fewer options in life, opening doors of education, home improvement, vegetable gardening, and training young people in skills that can create job opportunities for them.


These beautiful people inspire me with hope once again.  I see how it is possible to take one small step into your field of influence and beyond into the corners of the world, and lean the light of Christ into places of great need.  To start seeing lights lit up all over the place as we join spirit with the many people all over the world who also have a heart to see the miracle of transforming love overcome the darkness.  We agree with the heart of St Francis, that yes, the darkness cannot extinguish the light of even one small candle.  And when we light the flame of love, we will find around us the lights of many flames and the flames when they burn together will show that love wins out over chaos and tragedy every time.
Take some time to meditate on the Hope of the world - how nothing takes God by surprise and how the light will always outshine the darkness in our own hearts and lives and into the furthest reaches of the world.  How God reorients our hearts to His compass of peace and gives us a God-view of events. 
As we intercede for the people of this world, we will not underestimate the power of our prayers, these humble prayers. When we are rooted and established in Christ, we are moved to do what God calls us to do and be who he calls us to be at such a time as this.  We take hope in the coming of Christ.  Again and again, He comes into the heart of the world’s greatest need.  And we know that rebirth and resurrection are miracles He will continue to alight in the hearts and lives of people, as He reminds us of the miracles of His birth, death, and resurrection.  Nothing can separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.  And so we know and rely on the love of God.
As you listen to this spontaneous song, Open up let the light in by Bethel Music, allow the light of our Saviour to radiate through every situation in your life and every part of your heart.  The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it. John 1:5

 
 
 
 

Saturday, November 7, 2015

Contemplative Acts of Laundry

(This chore in our house is something I have to "get around to doing".  It is not something that fills me with anticipational excitement!  This poem is about allowing myself the pleasure of living in the moment while doing the laundry, to allow it to become a contemplative act.  The full stops between the stanzas allow for a pause and also indicate the time frames between the stages of laundry in my house - definitely not an all-in-one activity, but rather done through "stages of contemplation" :-) )

I remove wet laundry from the washing machine
Into my basket, I search for unseen socks
Lining the side of the barrel.
I carry the weighty basket up the passage
Through the kitchen and onto the outside bin.
Then I take the first garment
And choose where I want it to go.
.
All around me the garden is waiting to be heard,
Asking to be seen.
Every time I hang up my washing there is:
A mountain before me, trees, birds
Chickens cluck clucking, the sky and clouds of the day.
There is fragrance and colour, the whisper
Of a great yellow wood tree
And the invitation of the garden to be noticed.
.
I feel each garment, and peg, peg, peg
Peg up the laundry with my prayers.
.
I come back to it dry and take it down
Onebyonebyonebyonebyone draped over my
Great-bundle shoulder.
And I look and notice, look and notice.
I smell the fresh dry smell of the washing.
I take it to the bed and let it fall.
.
I fold, fold, fold
I feel the creases and press the garments.
.
I sort and organise, I pack into the cupboards
And breathe in the smell, breathe in the smell
Of the garments now packed away.

J Graser


Artist - Richard Boyer

Feel it, think it, do it!

I feel the way the music
Forms my body into responsive acts of mercy
Mercy to my body looks like this:
No restriction, just listening all the way
Repeating the phrases, lifted arms, legs, hearts
All the way through the music
Into the dance.
I even forget where I am when I am taken so.
Every bit of box explodes off bit by royal bit
It was like everytime my feet gave an involuntary twitch
I knew I could never hold back into the pew ever again.
It was like every time I hear another note
My feet are going to leap into action
And my body is going to writhe and shake
And twist and level the ground!
The music is going to take me and my body
Into places no prayer could ever take me
In my mind.
This dancing body is going to surf the waves
Of every sound as the boxes pop, pop, pop
Off of every muscle, ligament and nerve
And the freedom searches out
The beat in me, and takes me into
Ever new territory of the music dance music
Ever new places to put on my dancing shoes
And feel it, think it, do it!

J Graser



Artist - Margaret Rice Oxley

The Youness of You

Fingerprints all very telling.
You can't get away from your
Snowflake uniqueness
Or the way no two dog's noses are the same.
You're one of a kind
Trying to fill that poor man's shoes
When he can fill his
One of a kind shoes much better.
The trick is to find out what
Your fingerprints are meant to
Stick all over.
Forensic science has got to
Pick up the essence of you
All over the place you
Assign your energy to.
You're a firework prism
Blasting black holes into galaxies.
Inventions of your own style
Creeping through your pores
Are self-lighting bulbs -
All those ideas need a place to roam.
So do it! Be yourself.
Spread your opinion out of the
Cage they tried to shun you into.
There is no cage big enough
Can hold the power in one original thought.
Your DNA plays music heard
Through no one else's veins.
It's a joyful abandon to settle back
Into the youness of you,
To feel the pleasurable zing
Of the skin you're wrapped in.
It's like, what's coming next?
No one else is going to see it the way you do.
You are one beautiful grow up upper
Filling the infinite space of you
With a great big YES,
Born-alive in the nowness of now.

J Graser


 
 
Artist - Christian Schloe

Thursday, November 5, 2015

Let my mind climb up the tallest mountain

Little did she know it,
The subtle glance
The not so subtle telling crease in the corner of the eye.
How much had changed,
And change came that time with the sting of a bee
Looking for nectar in the summer flowers.

Everything turned on its head
Did a cartwheel into the future, past, whichever
Direction, jumped on the trampoline
And laughed, what a laugh!
I have never heard such a laugh!

I expected something so different
And all I heard were tears and laughter
Tears and laughter.
All my creases welled up that day
It was sprinkling tears of rain, tears of rain
Into the light of a trampoline day
When everything turns on its head
And says, "What now?"

The sting of these summer days
Has wakened me up, to breathe
And simmer, breathe and simmer.
To let my mind climb up the tallest mountain,
Do a handstand
And accept the upside-downness of
Everything I've come to understand is life.

Birds flying down into the sky
With blood pumping in my brains -
And the rush you get when you get back up on your feet
And suddenly everything becomes crystal clear
And you know which way to go.

J Graser


Wednesday, November 4, 2015

The Art of Acceptance

In quiet, quietness I hurl a stone
Into the water.
Still, the ripples
The ripples extend
As the stone sinks.

I wait at the shoreline
Until the water
Rests into a reflection
Of clouds, sky, clouds,
Until the water sleeps before me.
Until the water reflects
My body standing by the
Water, in silence.

An occasional breeze
Shimmers the surface,
But the deep is still
The deep is calm.

The stone is on the bottom
Together with the other stones
Anonymous, settled at the bottom
As though it has always been
There.

And yet quivering vibrations of
Unseen molecules within
This anonymous stone
All remember the picking up,
The being held, the moment
Of decision, the being hurled
Into the centre of these
Deep waters.

Rain, wind, snow, rivers, hail
And the water receives it all.
Evaporates a tranquil acceptance.
And after every storm,
The quiet, quietness.

J Graser


Monday, October 19, 2015

Alive to the Present

The sun warms the hairs on the back of my neck
And my closed eyes glow red with the lids.
My brain suffused with this light
Calls the seeds of my thoughts to dance out of their pods
And grow, grow, grow.

Into the present I am able to fly
With the wings Sophia calls, When-am-I-going-to-be-able-to-fly
Only-in-Heaven wings.

The sun glows through my fingers pink red orange,
The light does this to my blood
Makes it look like a Japanese lantern.
I am alive
It is the present.

My breath rises and falls like the wind
What it does to the wheat fields pulsing.
My breath does the same, then I feel my heart
And the blood that pumps through those ventricles.
I am alive
In the present.

Everything they told me at school
Was to prepare for my future and make sure
I make enough money to live, eat, sleep, succeed, rise to the top.
But they didn't tell me I would find the meaning of life
In being alive,
To the present.

In the blood that is God's, beating through my veins
In the breath, blood, breath of my body,
Alive to the moment,
Present.

J Graser



Artist - Christian Schloe



Saturday, October 17, 2015

The Destination is Now

All of these colours, I see them
As I reach into a nest with my eyes
And feel the bird of tomorrow
Wrapped in an egg shell,
Fly through my mind.

And I find myself in the memory
Of a ripe womb and tiny legs
Pushing for relationship
With the outside world.
Not ready for it yet.

Then my fingers fumble for the
Pieces of a great puzzle I did years ago,
While listening to The Hobbit on audiotape.
So many blue, white, green pieces -
It took forever to see
The bigger picture.

And I think about all that happens
In eggs, wombs and unfinished puzzles
And enjoy imagining myself discovering that
The destination is not somewhere out there.

But actually here, in the nest with bird's eggs,
Actually there in the ripening womb
Yes, and groping for pieces of a great puzzle,
I find the destination is not time-bound.

It is the moment you are reading this,
The destination is now.

J Graser



Artist - Elena Ray





Wednesday, October 14, 2015

The Change of Becoming

I am no longer a stranger to my former ways.
Embedded in a cocoon is one way
To get to know yourself, the
Intimate mess of it.

 
Morphing in stricture,
A grace-prison of selfless knowledge.
 
There are occasional sparks of light
As though I see visions of the future
In the darkness of my confinement.
 
And I have been re-introduced to my
Own younger self
And forced to spend time with her -
Not always keen.
 
But I'm learning to keep my opinions
To myself, and listen.
 
I am learning what it is to be present
To the deep Unknown.
 
I am learning that there is no space
To hold onto anything else,
But the change of becoming.
J Graser
 
 
 
Artist - Enoki Toshiyuki
 

Wednesday, September 30, 2015

The monk in my dream last night

He came to us in a dream last night,
We were walking in the monastery forest
And he passed us by
As the fragrant air caught us in the nostrils.

He turned and asked, "Have you got some?"
Then he offered us what he had in his hands
From his livelihood, with humble generosity.

It was the perfume he made from the pine sap
He drew from the healing trees.
The monk made this into fine perfumes
For regenerating human beings.

The strong pine sap lingered at his fingertip offering
As we said, "No, we haven't."

"I will get you some," he said.

No expectation of us, this monk of honey bees, nectar
Pine sap and healing ointments.
This monk of benediction in the monastery forest
Offered kindness, welcome, quiet gifts of himself.

This monk offered us his presence.

J Graser


Artist - John Singer Sargent

Tuesday, September 29, 2015

A pilgrim in your arms

I am beyond the mountain now
No more round and round for me.
Lord, it was too alluring to think
I could get somewhere by going nowhere.

I stepped away from the same old same old
And found myself a pilgrim in your arms.

People have become strangers of grace
Born into flesh with eyes mounted in souls
Looking into my eyes,
And greeting us silently.

I have a palm in front of me, holding nothing but hope.
I have a palm beside me, holding nothing but your hand.

Lord you are wise beyond your years,
I know your laugh from deep within
Is an earthquake to my old ways of doing and thinking.
And as the ground of my yesterlife crackcrumbles around me

I am finding your heart is a field with no fences.
I am looking and seeing with my deeper eyes.
I am hearing your voice packaged in many voices
All singing.

J Graser



Art photography - Rob Woodcox

Lord, let me receive myself with love

Lord, let me receive myself with love.

I walk towards myself,

As though I face me, in the lounge....
There I sit by the fire,
With creasethebrow thoughts on my mind.

I sit down, beside myself,
I hold my hands as my surprised face looks up,
To see me there.


I will look into my eyes
Into the hidden dark and hidden light


Then, I will embrace myself.

I will receive myself with love.

J Graser

 

Artist - Frederick Childe Hassam

I Come

Down the steps I come
Dry, thirsty I come, parched
I come.


I step into the water...
My feet in the well
My legs in the well
My hands, heart, soul
My head, mind, spirit
In the well.

I drink.
I bathe.
I float in the water
I drift.


I look at the sky
The birds, clouds
Sky.


I will be ready to
Do your will once again
When the dryness of me
Is taken by your quench.
Until then,
I come.


J Graser



Artist - Brian Scott

Monday, September 28, 2015

Inner Landscape

My mountain of heart valleys into deep red,  
It climbs heights into pink of dawn.

I ascend into my brain, view the territory, right and left
Rivers of thought, pathways of hope, doubt, dreams, fears.

I bungee jump into my chest and listen to my lungs
Expand, contract expand, each breath a gift.

 
It is time to pioneer the unknown terrain
Of the soul of my innermost parts.

I will dig into my spirit to search for secret treasure.
The deep will fill with my seeking eyes.

 
I will find the scroll of promises kept for me
And dance in the night to music composed for such a moment.

J Graser



Artist - Christian Schloe


 

Saturday, September 26, 2015

Meet me in slow time

Slow down our moments
Meet me in slow time
Plunge me into grace.

Stop the clock,...
Suspend reality...
Meet me in paints and song
Sing with me in oil pastel,
Drift with the tide.
Brush stroke me into being
Deep determined impressions
Of light, of dark,
Of coming into ourselves
Outside of time.


J Graser
 
 

The Sound of Amen


Fill my day with the sound of Amen
So be it, let it be.
Let the Amen fill my soul
Whisper it through my mind
The rest of it leans into your chest
At the feasting table
Breaking bread, drinking wine
I lean into your chest with the sound of it,
Amen.

J Graser
 

Monday, September 21, 2015

New realms of my being

I am in the now moment with you

Loving Spirit.

I am a phoenix of fire and special tongues,
There is a surprise in every unfurling of wings.

 You are mystery and journey,
 The road of you leads ever onwards.

Spirit of my temple, I have not arrived in you,
I have begun to be birthed.

Some of me has passed away
To make space for your great furnace.

I have found the pleasure of ever unfoldingness.
The discovery of heart that grows large large larger in the dark and in the light.

I have found not arrival, but rather departure... into new realms of your Being.
Into new realms of my being
in you.

J Graser



 

The stillness of faith

Dip my weakness into your
strong pulsing heart.


I will hide there, all quiet
While your chest enfolds me.

 
I will listen to your rhythm
Moor me to the calm of you.


I will sit in the stillness of faith
And find my beating heart.


I will find my beating heart.

J Graser


Sunday, September 20, 2015

Wings


The wings have been
Growing on me now
For quite some time.
Feathers look foreign to me still,...
But I have become more familiar
As they've spanned out
Over the years.

And lately, even a slight updraft
Sends these wings trembling
For the sky.


I think I could be ready
To try them out soon.


My heart rises in the mist.

J Graser