Dark Place of Trust

Gideon managed really well
when he needed sure confirmation.

There were undeniable miracles.

Even so, his heart must have
trembled on the first, yes God
I will.

We want a sign:
audible voice from the heavens,
word of knowledge,
and a wonder:
dove to alight on our shoulder
with a message sent.

A fleece will also do.
To prove that what we feel
is really what you are asking of us.

But Thomas reached in on the wounds
in your side with the words:
Blessed are those who do not see
and yet believe.

So are we blessed then,
when we forgo the need for signs
and enter more deeply into the dark
place of trust?

It is love that has been waiting
there for us
in our falling.

Jenneth Graser

#write31days
Day 25 Prompt - sign

Artist Gabriella Barouch

Listen to Trust by Kristene Mueller

Angels on their way somewhere

The signs of the times
point in many directions.

Many a soul has felt the
overwhelming need for a map
that would lay out the path
in such a way
that GPS would not be necessary.

We want to tap into the glory
that fills the earth
as the waters do the sea.

We want our eyes opened
like the servant of Elisha,
to realise there are more for us
than against us.

We would like to see flaming chariots
and to hear the words:
"You need only to be still,
the Lord will fight for you."

Much goes on behind the scenes,
we have no notion of.

Angels walk the streets
in the centre of much commotion
and no matter what the eye may see,
greater are those with us.
Greater too the one who resides
within us.

Our prayers do matter.
The livening presence of God works through us
into a place of first love compassion
for the world, it was always
intended for everyone.

We can see our prayers fly alongside
the angels on their way somewhere
to help someone who really needs it.

We do make a difference.

Jenneth Graser

#write31days
Day 24 Prompt - global

Artist - Elvira Amrhein

Listen to Calling all Angels - Loft Sessions with Brian Johnson

Eye of the Storm

There are contentious blowouts
across borders.

What is right, what is wrong?
Clouded issues fraying patience.

Trust calls you to places
the outcome is not certain.

Lean into the chest of greater grace.
The best is yet to come.

Though clouded be the skies for a time,
one ray of light comes breaking through
and perspective changes.

Some things cannot be worked out in the mind.

Feel the weight of your knees press into the earth
with the hope of surrender.

When you release all possibility into the hands
of belonging, you find peace.

Out of chaos, you will rest in the eye of the storm;
not a breath of wind can reach you here.

Stay until you know it is time
to move on.

Jenneth Graser

#write31days
Day 23 Prompt - blowout

Artist unknown

Dare to Shine

You have felt for some time the pull
of simplicity.

A lowering of certain expectations
to make room for what comes.

The peeling of a shroud
of weighty obligation,
to step out like a newborn.

Switch off the lying voices loud.
Dial up on a whisper of promises.

Look at your self in the mirror.
Remove the labels they put there.

You can rearrange the territory
and prepare for what did not feel so safe before.

Take off the mask to let your skin
breathe in the fair light of day.
Reach out for help when help is needed.

No more running for cover -
You will dare to shine.

Jenneth Graser

#write31days
Day 22 Prompt - off

Artist - Dorina Costras

Listen to Beyond the window - Jason Upton

Kingdom Without Walls

You wake on dreams

reserved for such a time as this -
messages written on your listening soul.

Under stars not often seen
you rest beside the waters deep,
where springs unblocked have risen in the night.

The river has swept
the pathway of your travels clean.

You find a banquet lush
on tables laid beneath the trees.

Leaves have formed a canopy
over dreamers spilling wisdom
from the cup.

On each note of invitation,
a secret name engraved
calls forth the spirit, heart and mind.

We are seeking for what we already have,
buried vast within.

X marks the spot
on a kingdom without walls
inside, alive and well.

Jenneth Graser

#write31days
Day 21 Prompt - park
Five Minute Friday

Artist - Cliff Briggie

Listen to Stargazer by John Belt

Doing Nothing with God

Take off your sandals
and bask under the fire of God's eyes.

Enter the Sabbath rest
for the children.

There is a wonderfully blessed woman
who works into the night.

She is learning to forgo duty;
where tenderness holds idle hands.

Mary has made herself vulnerable,
casting aside all care of what the people say.

But there is a time and a season
for every activity under the face of heaven.

And she has chosen a burning bush
for now.

She would put aside all work dutiful,
to soak in the strength that comes

From doing nothing
with God.

Jenneth Graser

#write31days
Day 20 Prompt - weekend

Artist - Frank Wesley

Spread-Wide Heart

Some looks speak what words have no chance to say.
It takes a willing spirit to drop the keys
and resolve to take in the pages of speech
that will pour forth expansive.

You grow yourself discerning
when you draw from wisdom
by following undefined paths
to places that welcome all seekers.

The paths that take you first low
to where water runs deep,
before you take what you have learned
and declare it from the mountains.

Be with the small insignificant
things that feel like they are going
nowhere and achieving not much.

Notice where love hides
under the bling of what looks
more outwardly appealing.

There are treasures to be found
in unexpected places.

When you have gathered the
intricate lessons contained in
humble undergrowth,
you may be trusted to give away pearls.

When giving becomes to you
more beautiful than losing or gaining,
the immaculate compassion of
your spread-wide heart will take in
more than enough of goodness,
you won't have room for it.

Just spilling goodness abundant
from what you found in tiny obscure places,
when you noticed that eternity
was buried there.

Jenneth Graser

#write31days
Day 19 Prompt - notice

Artist - Roger Roberts

Listen to Iona - Treasure

Neighbours

He took the leprous and unsightly hands
of a woman kicked to the outskirts.

He took them in his own and pressed every doubt
out of mind with one word, Clean.

He saw hope where there was no
rightful reason for hope to be and yet,

I will come to your house.
I will eat with you.

With a calling forth, his words
brought life where there was none.

He takes my breath into a place air is sweet
and gives me space inside my chest
to take in beauty beyond the pain of it.

My womanly being is welcomed where
perfume breaks open on moments like these.

Every soul is seen with eyes that see,
without constraints or definitions narrow.

Love has shaped every person born.
We are all neighbours.

Jenneth Graser

#write31days
Day 18 Prompt - neighbours

Artist - Nicole Roggeman

Music on Those Words

The music incorporates
the instruments of every culture
that has ever existed.

Worship to the listeners
sounds like love carried on the wind in a cry.

His shoes syncopate a beat
that invites a body to respond,
or not, as they please.

He placed the essence of himself
in the shoes of the other -
God made man.

Love felt the sting of all evil inclination
and every response we imagined he would take
passed him by.

Study the nature of God in the words:
"Father forgive them,
they know not what they do."

The music on those words
can reach every corner of the soul
of every human being.

There is no unreachable place.
There is no unreachable heart.

Jenneth Graser

#write31days
Day 17 Prompt - study

Photography - Jeffrey Vanhoutte

The Veil Grew Thin

Before we were born,
we were known.

And there was a day your words
filled the atmospheres with light
for the very first time.

There is always a before.

Before you were conceived
in confines of a womb,
Bright Morning Star.

You became little -
Precious Baby, God so small;
rejected from an inn to the hay
on a night the veil grew thin on hallelujahs.

God in the form of flesh contained
in a vessel of earth-bound love
for your human travels.

All of your omnipotence
given over to the brunt of nail,
body against wood and thrusting sword.

For our smallness to be lifted in
the fullness of infinite grace,
and so, to live forever.

Jenneth Graser

#write31days
Day 16 Prompt - little

Painting - Brian Kershisnik

Move into Prayer

You filled a space in your diary
for a date with yourself today.

You switch off your phone.
No demands on your attention.

You decide to walk down to the park -
you know of a place not many go.

A glade of trees among trees
and leaves in a state of holy ebb,
where a stream flows beneath it all.

Into the peace, you quietly tread.
Every voice silenced, one by one.

Each thought sighs into the ground
as a seed on your breath.

Your hands are ladles
for water scooped from a river
that quenches, a parched mind.

This is your cathedral -
worship, a humble song
under the cavern of green light

You move into prayer, slowly.

Jenneth Graser

#write31days
Day 15 Prompt - move

Artist - Odon Czintos

Beautiful soaking music by Julie True & Grace Williams

Free download of the first ten episodes of Catching the Light available on Noisetrade

Sacred Trust

My Dear Child,

You have been feeling drawn out
on the worn threads of yesterday's carpets.

You have wondered at the way
time seems to run under the river.

There have been times of walking
for long stretches through dry lands.

You have kept your eyes out
for signs of life on dew-kept nights.

But I led you to the sea instead.

At first you kept watch as the waves
invited you ever so gently.

You didn't know which way to turn
anymore, so instead you dived straight in.

There is another world of hidden dimension
in the deep heart of my life kept for you.

Like the reef that births colour with
verdant flashes of fish through coral.

In the right element you will thrive,
my Beloved Child.

In the deep heart of my life
where I keep you, close.

You are growing even though the
tides wane on the moon's pull.

You are going places in my Spirit
you will only find when your spirit is stretched.

I pour every grace into your life known and unknown
and I am working behind the scenes.

The gift of your trust is sacred;
every prayer and tear is to me, perfume.

I love you with a love that always grows,

Your Heavenly Father

Jenneth Graser

#write31days
Day 14 Prompt through Five Minute Friday - mail

Artist - Charlie Mackesy

Watch and listen to the Father's Love Letter

Wait for Resurrection

Leave every watch and clock behind.
Go to places the earth receives
the barefooted pleasure of you.

Where you are able to
notice yourself as a breathing,
living human being.

Emotions may rise and fall
with the spending of a day
on what seems like nothing.

But there are tears here
that come on laughter and on pain.

And there are tears of another kind
when beside the tomb of evil fruits,
you walk straight into a man weeping.

Interpretations of reality
are determined by your
outlook on life accumulated.

But sit with God
from the viewpoint of things eternal
and you realise love must still be greater.

Awareness steeped
in veins of blood that ran
for all mankind,
transforms our ability to
really see.

We are changed by the tears God sheds
at the mouth of every tomb that
waits for resurrection.

Jenneth Graser

#write31days
Day 13 Prompt - aware

Artist - Daniel Bonnell

Listen to Resurrection - Nicol Sponberg

Spacious Skies of Grace

You form the clouds
cirrus, alto stratus, cumulus.
You taught me to look up
when the ground holds my attention.

The sound of a jet blisters the air
too fast for the eye to see.

But clouds are shapes
waiting for translation.

When the news I hear
delivers with it a yoke of injustice
on the weight of dread,
I look for a bird to
trace my piece of sky.

It is not for me to carry such loads.
It is not for me to bear the outcomes
of every eventuality
waiting to happen.

No, I spread myself into the sky, wide.
I feel the whole of me captured, up.

You carried the pain
with the blood, sweat and tears you shed
one deeper than dark day.
And you carry it still.

Lift me through the cirrostratus
where clouds ephemeral wisp my worries
into dissipated blue.

I will grow with my soul into
the spacious skies of grace -

Miracles are waiting.

Jenneth Graser

#write31days
Day 12 Prompt - sky

Artist - Ken Bushe

Listen to Fly - Jason Upton

Hopeful Seeds

Divine chaos entwines with joy
where feet run up and down the passage
in a riot of fellowship.

We have arrived at today.

Where I am in the already,
and the not yet.

The sea is remarkably different
under the mountains and wind.
A memory of sand grits between my toes
with the irritations of a worried conscience.

I need to ease off on myself
and breathe in the salt travelled air
borne acrosss many oceans thus far
to enter so fully into my lungs.

To remind me of every single thing in my life
I have to be thankful for.

Because today there is a gentle falling
rain as summer broaches the air.
Straight through the humble pine
to the valley below, reeds are soft
in the mist shone sun.

Anxious thoughts dip through
silver-lined clouds and become
seeds to plant of love that wins out
over strange divisions.

Today is a day for planting those
hopeful seeds in the ground.

Today is a day for thanks.

Jenneth Graser

#write31days
Day 11 Prompt - thanks

Painting - Zoe Norman

Listen to "Thank God for Something" - Hawk Nelson

The Hidden Beauty of Boundless Faith

I have come to rest awhile
where there are no answers.
Where my questions have
dematerialized.

My eyelids are closed
under a merriment of light,
as my mind stretches into
the lake of your imagination.

Every fact man has over time
in vast libraries of knowledge attained,
cannot compare with the singular bliss
of delving fully heart, mind and soul
into mystery.

Being one with secrets
that are kept for later,
keeps me grinning on the sleeves
of my Great Father.

He invites all of his children
into the art of waiting,
where intricate learning folds
into the flesh only on
the silence of oracles.

There is territory that has
been meticulously mapped out,
and there are vast regions
as yet unexplored that head out into
mile upon mile of space.

Take my hand Abba Father.
Where I know nothing...
You may impart to me, more.

Where I think I know,
I have created for myself limitation.
Lead me into the hidden beauty
of boundless faith.

Jenneth Graser

#write31days
Day 10 Prompt - unknown

Photography - Brian Peterson

Listen to "Hidden" - Will Reagan

Places to Return To

Having left, there is no desire to return.
Cut the ties and make a run for it.

Delve head-first into a new job,
be there for your new friends.

Write a letter to the past, seal it,
as it drifts into the fireplace.
Watch it burn.

Too many post-it notes on too
many places reminding you of
things to do, places to go, people to see.

Running the rat race full throttle
into the future with both hands
making a grab for success.

It is time to face the people
you left at the threshold of the door.

Mount your horse and ride
back the way you came.

Feel the tears rise as you approach
your failures, with determination.

It is here you will learn to make
peace with yourself;
to forgive, to let resistance go
to align with grace.

Everything familiar and same old
same old, begins to recalibrate -
when you embrace what you left
behind,
in order to find everything new.

Jenneth Graser

#write31days
Day 9 Prompt - post-it

Photography - annagorin.com

Listen to "Here and Now" - Will Reagan

Tell the Story

Ideas neatly arranged
in the minds of scholars.
Flowers co-ordinated in rows.
Mathematical problems proved,
solved.

Analyse your behaviour:
follow the rules.

The wheels have for too long
been turning to the tune
of inherited songs.

Sometimes it is better to let
everything fall down on its knees,
before you re-arrange the pictures
on the wall.

When all you know to be true
turns on its head in a muddle,
you will feel held in your great mess.

There is a crumbling of layers,
a shedding of skin,
a moulting to reveal the secrets
you have held back.

Only when your plans are snatched
out of your grasp
will the radiant secrets come to light,
as you surrender control of every part.

It is time to bring the guitar
out of hiding and strum
your own chords.

Feel the fire in you rise uninhibited,
burn all strife and tell the story
that has been waiting all your life
to be told.

Jenneth Graser

#write31days
Day 8 Prompt - muddle

Artist - Joseph DeCamp

Listen to: Out of Hiding Father's Song by Steffany Gretzinger and Amanda Cook

Test of Flight

You have come to lie upon the moss
beside the stream where your anguish may seep
into the stones and wash down-river.

Your tears unshed may weep.

The places you run to have failed
to comfort, you need to lie down.

Reach out through treetops and beyond
into the cycles of planets
and the furthest reaches of stars, beyond.

Until you remember yourself a bird -
a maturation of feathers
have grown through the fluff of youth.

Your hunger urging you over the
edge of the nest has long vied
with the fear that holds you back.

There is an eagle that hovers over
nests of waiting, where young ones
may observe the effortless way
each wing takes the updraft.

Through his eyes the invitation calls
until you feel ready to take the test of flight.

No matter what the outcome,
you will follow.

Jenneth Graser

#write31days
Day 7 Prompt - test

Artist - Johan Hoekstra

The Dazzling Awkward Road

There were years of preparation
for perfection.
"One day, when..."

When all the ticks mark all the boxes
and your longings are laid to rest.

When you are always in control
going where you want to go.

But, all of those plans
got wedged between diaries on shelves.

And you still make mistakes.

Take a long look into the mirror
and see...you.

Not the you you want to be
or the you you were,

But who you are now.

It is time to let go of perfection,
of should have, could have,
would have.

It is time to learn how
to be a dear friend
to yourself.

Yes, all of the fractured cracks
and fierce glowing embers have combined
to form a one-of-a-kind thing of beauty.

Art in its purest form:
imperfection in harmony
with grace in motion.

You have come upon the dazzling
awkward road towards finding yourself

Beloved.

Jenneth Graser

#write31days
Day 6 Prompt - You

Artist - Gustav Klimt

The Depths of Silence

Climb this well worn path,
a crunch of gravel flicks the verge.

Breathe into the pain of long having remained.

Now it is time to feel the steep
trail call you to
where the air grows thin.

Rocks obscure the way, but you
no longer give in to them.

You grope for a handhold
and pull yourself through
the risk of falling.

Up, over the boulders onto
the strangeness of unfamiliar ground.

The voices critical have
hummed under the door for too long.

You are called to a kind of quiet,
where waterfalls thrash mountains
into holding pools so deep.

Stand on the edge of the view -
take in the senses of
being, above all things.

Feel your mind become one
with every promise you believe.

You are ready to finally plunge
with a breath and a step;
into the depths of silence.

Then you will know what to do.

Jenneth Graser

#write31days
Day 5 Prompt - silence

Photo - amazinglytimedphotos.com

The Beautiful Man

There is a bench
in a garden, weathered,
the wood worn,
knots coiled where moss lingers
on the fringes of time.

Here she sits side by side
with the Beautiful Man.

He has taken her hand
where no words are spoken.

The walls around the garden
do not withhold from her
a single thing.

There is growth perpetual where
conversation has folded
between the palms of their hands.

She comes here to brew in stillness,
to feel the rush immaterial fade,
to merge with what is eternal -

To feel the flavours between them
infuse.

Jenneth Graser

#write31days
Day 4 prompt - brew

Artist - Emma Lazauski

The Realisation of Unfurling Wings

A feeling of spring
has for some time
weighed anchor at the base of her soul.

Pressing against her ribcage
all winter.

Wings against a cocoon, urging.

Her heart is threatening to
break out of confinement
and live outside, under the sky, for good.

She throws open the doors of her wardrobe
to really see: dust, congestion, profusion.

She pulls out piece after piece,
of stifled garments that no longer serve,

Until they are able to hang free, breathe,
be seen.

She gives everything that clutters
a new life, a new home.

Spring
bursts through her core with
a green, green song.

She feels somehow bare
in the realisation of
unfurling wings.

Today is a day for flying.

Jenneth Graser

#write31days
Day 3 Prompt - wardrobe

Artist - Christian Schloe

The Remembrance of Paint

The pages have long been

At rest between folders in drawers.

The watercolours parched as the Mojave.

Brushes have gathered dust

In the shadow of curtains.

The heart of the artist, asleep.

Wake up, Dear One, to colour 

In the music of life around you.

The differentiation of tone in one leaf,

The feathers of that bird caught up in nectar.

Pay attention again to the longings.

Wake up, oh Sleeper,

Rise into the remembrance of paint.

Make all things new for your easel,

It is time to begin again.

Jenneth Graser

#write31days 

Prompt Day 2 - Paint

Artist credit - unknown

Grace of the Here and Now

Over time the elements have hewn out of
mountains, secret passageways.

Canyons slice into deep places
the sun only reaches at certain angles.

But if you come with a heart willing,
the sun will eventually beam down on you.

If you walk out of shadows, the dust motes will
shimmer with the occasional insect flashing.

The sun will illuminate the pristine
stream that funnels out this part of the earth.

You will walk through the waters
and drink in the warmth on your skin.

Feel the stones weathered year upon year
smooth, under the soles of your feet.

Feel your heart respond as you walk
in the grace of the here and now.

Jenneth Graser

Photo credit unknown

You Will Find Your Flight

A double transition occurs
when your outward journey
mirrors the journey of your heart.

Outward change does not
clamour so, when inward
resolution has been made.

Forgive well, travel memory
with tenderness.

Map out newly explored terrain
in such a way
that other pilgrims may benefit.

Observe the larger hand of grace
at work.

The heart of a traveller is called
to find rest within,
so that restless urges do not drive
the motion.

Travel deep, dear Pilgrim,
find the peace you are searching for.

Travel high, dear Pilgrim,
taste the stars and drink the rain.

There is so much ahead.
You won't be driven.
You will be deeply moved.

You will find your flight.

Jenneth Graser

Artist - Daniel Deskridge

Marvellous Things

Learn to travel within the
present moments of time
before you phone a travel agent.

Mark off significant realms -
do your research well.

Be comfortable with
unknown unmapped places.

You may travel the inner places
with peace and no judgement.

Explore beyond what you know.

You can be OK with heading
for shores dangerous.

You can be generous towards
yourself, and let the dust settle,
be blown away.

God has been known to shape
marvellous things out of dust.

Jenneth Graser

Artist - http://www.jenndalyn.com/work/mixed-media-artwork/travel-art/

Gracious Second Chances

There are maps of the world
decoupaged onto the skin of my soul.
Lines follow voyages made,
once upon a time.

Old passports stamped in airports,
destinations expired.

All the longings folded neatly
and arranged in every suitcase
you own, will not wear out on these roads.

Traverse the terrain internal
before you pack your bags.

Cross timelines of memory,
jet lag of large expanses covered.
Surrender into the light of kind perusal.

Each memory dug up as tarnished remainders
is willingly given into the hands of
gracious second chances.

There is a mapmaker for pilgrims
who long to travel.

Jenneth Graser

Artist - jenndalyn.com

A Place Between All Places

I enter the gangway
with my fellow travellers
and pack my overnighter
into cabin hold.

I look eagerly onto the runway.

There is not one iota of guilt
in my cells, singular or otherwise.

I feel the surge of being lifted
high above the clouds judgemental
into places mercy lives.

People are more human
seated side-by-side in close proximity.

Flights of elevation
bring us closer to what Heaven
considers possible,
and angels may be seen
above jet engines on the wing.

Every flight attendant offers
pleasantries, minds are left to wander.

A place between all places,
a way to all ways made.

I am flying to an
island off the South Pacific.

I think I will head for the
mossy tundras after that
and have someone row me
through arterial river systems
where animals who have
not been taught to fear
the great beast of man
may curiously pause,

Look up for a moment
and resume what animals
do on tundra plains.

Jenneth Graser

Photography - http://arcticadventuretravelblog.com

Enemies Made Friends

You have my attention.

I have never left you, I never will.
You are my child, my very own.

I am committed to you, always.

Expectations are lifted
Where forgiveness may flow.

There is a great feast for enemies
Made friends.

See how they feast together
Side by side at the same table,
Laughing, sharing the cup.

I break the fresh loaves of bread
Into pieces, so everyone has
More than enough.

The masks are long
Turned to ash in the furnace.

Eyes that are open to the light
May see.

Hands that have laid down weapons
Are free to be shaken in greeting, held.

Faces may behold
What I have created, my love in each heart.

Human to human come to the table,
Come and break bread.

Drink from the cup overflowing,
Child to child, make friends.

Jenneth Graser

Photo credit unknown

Yet, he would kneel for you

His vast intelligence
Called a universe into mathematical being.

Andromeda, Tucana, Triangulum, Centaurus.

Yet, he would kneel for you
With a towel wrapped around his body

To present you with a bowl.

He would take your feet, one by one,
Swirl them in warm water,

Wash them carefully.

Pour fresh water over them and take them
Into his towel to be dried,

To be clean.

Jenneth Graser

Artist: Robert Gilroy, SJ. More at http://www.prayerwindows.com/

Now Here, Now There

Back and forth the interpretation
Of events vacillate
Now here, now there.

Now you are leaping from the stern
Of a great yacht into crystal seas
Receiving your hilarity.

Now you are on the verge of a cliff
Wondering how you got there,
Terrified.

Now you are with the birds swooping
Over rooftops, free to come, go
Alight.

Now you are carrying loaded
Baggage from one train platform to
Another, getting lost easily.

Then you are finding a map well worn
By other eager travellers, discerning
Wisdom appears as graffiti on the
Walls, unbidden.

Truth arises from the gutter,
Where ferns grow in earnest.

Up the side of half a mountain
With half a mountain to go.

The view will only look this way,
This moment,
From here, now.

Jenneth Graser

Photography - Candice Swanepoel

This Dangerous Love

The ocean has risen from the
Boulders with fierce intention.

Grace can be disguised in power.

A surge of purpose can come with
Storms of re-direction.

Nothing is too large or too small
To be noticed, taken in, seen.

The arc of each wave has crested over
Our heads with just enough room to breathe.

The waves will greet the shores
Of every landmass the planet provides.

And we, we too will be met relentless
In ways we do not yet understand.

We will be baptised into what is different.
We will be humbled by love that reminds

But doesn't crush.

We will be safe in the presence of danger,
This dangerous love.

Jenneth Graser

Photography - Clark Little

We will be Pilgrims

We traverse terrain
Cut out of the mountain
By the ones before us,
Who paid the sacrificial cost.

To harrow out a road
In the rock, with guts and sweat
Mixed with granite dust?
Trailing tears.

You may dream of another life,
But fresh perspective is only
Possible when willing
To fork off the trampled path.

We will do the pilgrim thing,
No, we will be
Pilgrims.

Keep my heart out of the stone
With the strength of Kilimanjaro
Rising.

Keep my mind out of the dirt,
But down to the earth
Rooted.

And my spirit, must be kept
Beyond all earthly things:
Keep it with your Spirit

Cumulonimbus soaring.

Jenneth Graser

Photography - Matjaz Cater

Shamah Cloth

There is a child in soft folds of cloth.
She breathes in the fragrance
Of a billion prayers on the altar.

And there is a place for her there,
In the Shamah cloth, enfolded.

She feels the hand stroke her brow,
Ease the troubling thoughts
That alight like crows in the pine
Tree on the garden verge.

A restless bicker of caws
Is hard to silence.

She feels the greeting of a kiss like whispers
On her forehead,
Until every thought flies free.

The pine soughs in the wind
Of his breath on her face.

She can smell the resin he collected
In the night watch, ever wakeful.

She can see the intentions of his
Heart are for her ever good.

Folding deeper into softness of
The Shamah cloth, invitation
Is substance.

She grows into the gift of One who is,
One who is There.

Jenneth Graser

Photo credit unknown

What Hurts and what is Healing

I find myself open to sound,
Quiet on the morning's gift.

Dancing waves of Arabic rhythm
Syncopate with the formation of
Every letter on the page.

There is forgiveness to be released.
Myself reminded, our own treasures
Grow in the blessings we bestow, unmerited.

People wait today
For art to dip into their pain with something
To show how grateful adoration
Appeases loss.

People waiting as a gift between the
Holding walls of my abode.

The gift I capture with my hands
Open wide in thanks, to let each soar away
And settle on my shoulder
Of their own free choice.

I find myself a radiant blessing on the eye's
Reflection of the man who loves me so;
He does not need reminding that his bliss is mine
And mine is to be his, always.

I find myself open, and opening wider.
I find myself new and old, both new and old.

I find myself placed, inside the place
That feels just right for me to be for
Now, alongside what hurts and is healing,

Both: what hurts and what is healing.

Jenneth Graser

Artist - Christian Schloe

Pearls in the dark

I am drawn to you looking at
Me from beyond the veil.
On wafts of incense and icon

Your instruments tell tales of
Other places, distant times,
Families.

Where to be all grown up
Looks altogether different.
On woven threads of colour,

Many feet dance as fabric swirls the air.
Prayers sigh from cliff to cliff
In flight between the mountains.

You discover God in the way
Your grandmother tells stories.
Firelight flickers a ritual between

The folds and wrinkles of her face.
You experience the presence of
God in the beating of your drum.

As you light each candle, the words
Fold from the scrolls, chanted.
All of your senses seek and discover

Pearls in the dark; you share so kindly.

Jenneth Graser

Jaisalmer India - photo credit unknown

Taking Some Risks

One of the most special experiences so far this year was when I joined a Poem-a-thon for the first time with Tiferet Journal in April.

Leaping into a writing adventure with fellow poets was such a growing and widening time.  I learnt so much and felt myself stretching to release each poem into the day, a response to each sensitively written prompt.  A poem a day for the whole month of April!

THIS HAS BEEN A YEAR OF TAKING SOME RISKS.

Secondly, the notion of joining a poetry competition was something only for "maybe one day when...".  But my husband encouraged me to go for it and just enter.  Not for the possible outcome, but for the pure pleasure of it.  So I found myself click "enter" as my poems found their way into a first ever poetry competition.

We have been leaving some old seasons behind.  With grateful thanks to God for the richness, growth and great learning curve of the last 7 years those seasons had to offer.

And now we are looking ahead with a, "What's next Pappa?"  And finding it's OK to not know.  To trust.  To embrace the present moment.  To take a leap into something new, and to take some risks.

What are the risks you are being invited to take?

It can be something small, so as to feel almost insignificant.  It can be something you've been wanting to do for a long time, but always felt maybe one day.  It can be something really big.  But you know what it means to you.  And when you step out into that fresh new experience, you know you are never going to be the same again.

Here is a link to my poetry on the Tiferet website: http://tiferetjournal.com/april-2016-poem-a-thon/poems-by-jenneth-graser-2016/
Please also take a look at the wonderful writing of fellow poets and friends I had the privilege to meet: http://tiferetjournal.com/april-2016-poem-a-thon/

My poem Convergence from the Poem-a-thon was published in the Tiferet Spring Journal 2016.  You can subscribe to the Tiferet Journal here: http://tiferetjournal.com/the-journal

Fall on the Snow

A woman once fell upon the snow,
Her heart asking the sky for answers.

The lake spread out in silence
As trees framed each question.

Every part of her surroundings
Accepted her, unconditional.

The sky watched her make angels
In the soft keeping snow.

The tops of the trees shushed her
With a lullaby of pine needles.

The path beside her feet
Asked nothing of her.

And the rock at her back
Kept vigil all the while.

There is a place in the deep woods
That will hold the memory of

The falling of a woman
On the snow.

Jenneth Graser

Cycles that Flow

Rain that falls on the inside of the skin
Hits the roof of the heart
With loud presence.

Gathers in the gutters,
Streams across the walls of flesh
Hitting hard.

Such rain may drive,
Drizzle, splatter, drip
Drench and shower.

The soul may not know
What to do with such a
Downpour.

It is best to allow the rain
To collect in pools of
Reflection.

And to not allow the pools
To dam up
In any way.

Once you have reached a sufficient
Level, you may form
Rivers.

You may flood even,
If you so choose;
Into any place.

It is through rainfall
Heading for the sea of
Eventual evaporation,

That you may once again
Precipitate your way
Into cycles that flow.

Jenneth Graser

Photograph - Hannes Kock, Florian Ortkrass and Briton Stuart Wood - The Rain Room

Misfits

Collect your tears from the face of the sky
Clouds do not refrain.

Be with the dew suspended on the leaf
Drip into the river waiting.

Sigh on the highest mountain breeze
Where it is difficult to breathe.

Open a gift with fingers tentative,
As though it is the only gift you may receive.

Grateful thanks may rise with greater thanks
When borne through the ashes.

Be with roots who remember the music of light
In dark places, go deeper.

Live with an egg in its stages,
On a nest of what is to come.

Be with composting fruit on the manure pile;
A steam of matter rises from loss.

Once you were content to smile at flowers -
Now you bury your nose into scent.

Once you were happy to watch from airport windows -
Now you have booked your flight.

Other travellers have made room for your beauty,
Misfits have joined hands in strange peace.

Jenneth Graser

Artist - Moki Mioke

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

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

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

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