On my side of the planet, morning of August 6, Hiroshima Day, the date on which the black rain of overshadowing omnicide first feel upon the Earth…
LISTEN
You’re not listening
Sky is falling
You’re not listening
Sea is rising
In tempest-rage
You are not listening, no
And the angel of death
Comes on
Like rolling thunder
Earth is eaten away – this place
Now
This is a terrible moment
In the valley of tears
In a time of tribulation
Terrible, it is terrible I say
Truly terrible
When truth is at risk
And the heart and lungs
On all sides
There is betrayal
And everywhere, everywhere
In the eyes and mouths - poisons
Now, not before
Not after – Look – be sensitive
The ecstatic flame of angel
With the eyes of crucifixion
The one crucified
This
This is when the senses
(And the soul
Housed, ecosophic, inside the body)
Need to be alert
When choices are monumental
When life, all of life, life is in the balance
Answer this:
Do you need to
Hear the sirens screaming?
Do you need to
Witness the perfect storm?
To feel black rain, as in
August ’45? Does
Creation need to split apart for you and
Death weld together for faith
Dead Earth, dust
And deadly sky?
Where are you, where really
When I turn to look around
When I search to hear your footsteps
Feel you breathing
Do you dare to know
We-you and I-we are still alive?
There is difference
Life is on one hand, death on the other
Different
To live and die
Than to live for death, to
Be death’s ambassador,
The pallbearer, the anguished who
Tore the puzzle apart, flung it, pieces
Into furnace—end stop, endgame, ominous
Into oblivion
Answer to that – know it
Know (no), know
Your answer will be binding
Wait, wait, wait then… wait I beg you
For here there is love
There is
God in the shape of prayer still
And that is Kingdom
Blessed
Are the peacemakers, the
Earth-walkers
The brave who
Turn aside to feel the heartthrob, heartache of the world, to
Hear a teardrop fall
In velvet morning, an
Angel sigh despair, a newborn
Cry in the blood pool of life
To share, to taste, to give, to take
Our common bread
Our days
Body
Holy
Flame
Cross
He walks upon the water
In a wounded whisper
Word
From mouth to ear
Far off and near
The sound
Of spreading morning
Star fallen
On Hiroshima and the end
Star of Bethlehem!
Listen…
It is not prosperity
That the midnight bells are swelling
But Christ Mass and the dove
The dove
The dove of now
Peace – the cleansing rain
Listen…
Hush, be gentle, gentle I beg you
Listen…
Christmas Eve, 24 December 2007
from HEALING, A Book of Poetry by David Sparenberg
Sunday morning, to one and all: Peace within & peace to share…
MEDICINE DREAM
I have a dream:
at the center of the dream
is circling ocean
in the center of the ocean
is turtle island
at the center of the island
is vision mountain
in the center of the mountain
is healing crystal
at the center of the crystal
is sacred light
in the center of the light
i sit dreaming
I have a dream:
i dream i am a tree
my roots spread out
beside a place of water
in sunlight
my branches turn to fire
my leaves are prayers of smoke
my heart beats like a drum
inside a stone of power
I have a dream:
my dream is at the center
of great silence
here at the center
i sit dreaming
from HEALING, A Book of Poetry by David Sparenberg
Compassion is the root and common thread. Compassion abides in the soul, as soul’s most natural offspring. It works through the heart and enters the world without doctrine or dogma. Compassion suffers for otherness, from that which one did not do. And compassion rejoices with the joy of that which is shared by all.
The differences of religions arise when compassion is broken apart, like a mirror dashed in a fit of anger. But the way of compassion is wholeness. And the cause of compassion is unity.
We need not abandon the differences, for they smell of human journeys and the gardens of many imaginations. But we must always remember compassion and the invitation to the banquet of reunion. For the “religious” purpose of compassion is to gather the shards of darkened glass and render them harmless.
Some might call this a miracle, other enlightenment. I am a humble person and I call it only Eden, the place of the Tree of Life.
CANTICLE OF THE CREATURES Interpreted from a poem by St. Francis of Assisi
Highest, most powerful
and goodly Lord
to you only go
praise and honor, benedictions
of all kinds
and every glory
to you only, Most High
do these belong
no man being worthy
to signify your name
praise my Lord
through all creation—
especially through the lord
my Brother Sun
shining with the gift of day
dispensing to us
bounteous light, beautiful
and resplendent with brightness
to you my Lord
he is most like
in likeness
praise my Lord
through our Sister
the Moon and moving Stars
set heaven high
by your high hand
beautifully arrayed, precious
and most bright
praise my Lord
through my Brother
the Wind
and every breeze
and all degrees
of alternating weather
praise my Lord
through my Sister
Flowing Water
useful she is—
a humble, chaste
and priceless treasure
praise my Lord
through my Brother
Master Fire
who sparkles for us
in the dead of night
his dancing lithe
and bright, joyous
and abounding with power
praise my Lord
through our Sister
Mother Earth
who upholds and nurtures us
bringing forth
reviving fruits, flowers
of many hues
and helpful herbs
praise my Lord
through those who show
forgiveness
through love of you
enduring the painful
perils of time
and harsh adversity
blessed are they
who persevere
in peacefulness
for by you, Most High
are they adorned
praise and bless
my Lord most truly
and render thanks
and service to him
greatly
and with great humility
from HEALING, a Book of Poetry by David Sparenberg
Shekhinah
maiden of midnight
mothering side
of the God of life
descend now
to this troubled heart
this garden soul
lift me
as if on eagles’ wings
to wear the fiery
robes of lightning
let my thunder roll
let me sit
in luminal darkness
meditating prayers
in the shapes of light
let me dream
dream beneath the breathing rainbow
of your love.
There is a place
that place is nowhere
and a time
pierced by eternity
known to pilgrims
as the rest of God.
There
the man of roads and
child of his returning
bow together
in everlasting peace.
iPeace.us
Kerry Echo Kiefer's Comments
Comment Wall (36 comments)
You need to be a member of iPeace.us to add comments!
Join iPeace.us
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
Welcome to you & wishing you a Happy Birthday too! Shells from San Francisco - Photo was shot at Rodeo Beach, Marin Headlands..iPeace is deleted from David Califa the end of June. Here you can find a new home.
http://peaceformeandtheworld.ning.com/
You are cordially invited.
Warm regards, Eva
GLAD TO MET YOU ,
KEEP IN TOUCH,
LOVE,PEACE UPON YOU
KISSES..
MODY.
hii Kerry ,,
HAPPY BIRTHDAY
GOD BLESS YOU RICHLY IN EVERYTHING YOU DO
Peace , Love and Harmony...always
My MIA Friend,LISTEN
You’re not listening
Sky is falling
You’re not listening
Sea is rising
In tempest-rage
You are not listening, no
And the angel of death
Comes on
Like rolling thunder
Earth is eaten away – this place
Now
This is a terrible moment
In the valley of tears
In a time of tribulation
Terrible, it is terrible I say
Truly terrible
When truth is at risk
And the heart and lungs
On all sides
There is betrayal
And everywhere, everywhere
In the eyes and mouths - poisons
Now, not before
Not after – Look – be sensitive
The ecstatic flame of angel
With the eyes of crucifixion
The one crucified
This
This is when the senses
(And the soul
Housed, ecosophic, inside the body)
Need to be alert
When choices are monumental
When life, all of life, life is in the balance
Answer this:
Do you need to
Hear the sirens screaming?
Do you need to
Witness the perfect storm?
To feel black rain, as in
August ’45? Does
Creation need to split apart for you and
Death weld together for faith
Dead Earth, dust
And deadly sky?
Where are you, where really
When I turn to look around
When I search to hear your footsteps
Feel you breathing
Do you dare to know
We-you and I-we are still alive?
There is difference
Life is on one hand, death on the other
Different
To live and die
Than to live for death, to
Be death’s ambassador,
The pallbearer, the anguished who
Tore the puzzle apart, flung it, pieces
Into furnace—end stop, endgame, ominous
Into oblivion
Answer to that – know it
Know (no), know
Your answer will be binding
Wait, wait, wait then… wait I beg you
For here there is love
There is
God in the shape of prayer still
And that is Kingdom
Blessed
Are the peacemakers, the
Earth-walkers
The brave who
Turn aside to feel the heartthrob, heartache of the world, to
Hear a teardrop fall
In velvet morning, an
Angel sigh despair, a newborn
Cry in the blood pool of life
To share, to taste, to give, to take
Our common bread
Our days
Body
Holy
Flame
Cross
He walks upon the water
In a wounded whisper
Word
From mouth to ear
Far off and near
The sound
Of spreading morning
Star fallen
On Hiroshima and the end
Star of Bethlehem!
Listen…
It is not prosperity
That the midnight bells are swelling
But Christ Mass and the dove
The dove
The dove of now
Peace – the cleansing rain
Listen…
Hush, be gentle, gentle I beg you
Listen…
Christmas Eve, 24 December 2007
from HEALING, A Book of Poetry by David Sparenberg
MEDICINE DREAM
I have a dream:
at the center of the dream
is circling ocean
in the center of the ocean
is turtle island
at the center of the island
is vision mountain
in the center of the mountain
is healing crystal
at the center of the crystal
is sacred light
in the center of the light
i sit dreaming
I have a dream:
i dream i am a tree
my roots spread out
beside a place of water
in sunlight
my branches turn to fire
my leaves are prayers of smoke
my heart beats like a drum
inside a stone of power
I have a dream:
my dream is at the center
of great silence
here at the center
i sit dreaming
from HEALING, A Book of Poetry by David Sparenberg
Compassion is the root and common thread. Compassion abides in the soul, as soul’s most natural offspring. It works through the heart and enters the world without doctrine or dogma. Compassion suffers for otherness, from that which one did not do. And compassion rejoices with the joy of that which is shared by all.
The differences of religions arise when compassion is broken apart, like a mirror dashed in a fit of anger. But the way of compassion is wholeness. And the cause of compassion is unity.
We need not abandon the differences, for they smell of human journeys and the gardens of many imaginations. But we must always remember compassion and the invitation to the banquet of reunion. For the “religious” purpose of compassion is to gather the shards of darkened glass and render them harmless.
Some might call this a miracle, other enlightenment. I am a humble person and I call it only Eden, the place of the Tree of Life.
David Sparenberg
22 July 2009
Interpreted from a poem by St. Francis of Assisi
Highest, most powerful
and goodly Lord
to you only go
praise and honor, benedictions
of all kinds
and every glory
to you only, Most High
do these belong
no man being worthy
to signify your name
praise my Lord
through all creation—
especially through the lord
my Brother Sun
shining with the gift of day
dispensing to us
bounteous light, beautiful
and resplendent with brightness
to you my Lord
he is most like
in likeness
praise my Lord
through our Sister
the Moon and moving Stars
set heaven high
by your high hand
beautifully arrayed, precious
and most bright
praise my Lord
through my Brother
the Wind
and every breeze
and all degrees
of alternating weather
praise my Lord
through my Sister
Flowing Water
useful she is—
a humble, chaste
and priceless treasure
praise my Lord
through my Brother
Master Fire
who sparkles for us
in the dead of night
his dancing lithe
and bright, joyous
and abounding with power
praise my Lord
through our Sister
Mother Earth
who upholds and nurtures us
bringing forth
reviving fruits, flowers
of many hues
and helpful herbs
praise my Lord
through those who show
forgiveness
through love of you
enduring the painful
perils of time
and harsh adversity
blessed are they
who persevere
in peacefulness
for by you, Most High
are they adorned
praise and bless
my Lord most truly
and render thanks
and service to him
greatly
and with great humility
from HEALING, a Book of Poetry by David Sparenberg
Shekhinah
maiden of midnight
mothering side
of the God of life
descend now
to this troubled heart
this garden soul
lift me
as if on eagles’ wings
to wear the fiery
robes of lightning
let my thunder roll
let me sit
in luminal darkness
meditating prayers
in the shapes of light
let me dream
dream beneath the breathing rainbow
of your love.
There is a place
that place is nowhere
and a time
pierced by eternity
known to pilgrims
as the rest of God.
There
the man of roads and
child of his returning
bow together
in everlasting peace.
David Sparenberg
1 May 2008
best,
Nash
Welcome to
iPeace.us
Sign In
Latest Activity
© 2024 Created by David Califa. Managed by Eyal Raviv. Powered by
Badges | Report an Issue | Terms of Service