Reform & Revive

Entering in a new degree thereof
Against one’s will
I will be enabled
To live once more again

Ah, to live!

And give glory to the One who gives glory
To the meek
Of which
I am
Not

Yet . . .

Being thrust to moment to moment
In my life-long “awkward stage”
Into lives I don’t want to
But must,
and will,
for my will
Has been seized
And captured
By another.

Another so beautiful
All-wonderful
Satisfaction of satisfactions
Pleasure of pleasures
Joy of joys
Pain of pains.

Then one lost is now one found

Like the pink head
Of a plastic hippo
Whose heart is blue,
Whose unrenewed mind lies lonely at the bottom
Of a dirty garbage heap.

And the Renewed stands in silent reflection
Amidst the sounds of little children-
The sounds of an innocence they have not.
While dancing in circles swirling in safe adoration
Of a will they have not either

But may.  At some appointed time.

As I sit.
In this park.
On this day.
With these thoughts.
On this heart.
And this mind.

Contemplating the eccentricities of a life
Lived with purpose
in the Already But Not Yet.

10.17.2007; 14th and E. Carson, Pgh, Pa (if i wasn’t a calvinist, i’d hate women)

even among your heart’s great durress, you want to scream, shout and dance (huh?!) in your joy. this all-consuming joy that only shows its face in those dark hours. it’s those days when you are brought so low that there is only one to be reached out to, and in that great distress, that horrible despair, even, is the one who ordained that misery - those weaknesses - to fight for perfect glory. and in that is the great comfort.

five months ago in this very coffee shop, you scribbled down those words about all things being made new - from Death comes Life, right? right. and in these tragedies (or so we see them) lie our daily-mini-deaths. and borne out of those deaths are new mini-lives. and in the redemption from that death, to this life - what joy!

in deepest despair one cries out - and in that cry, there is sustinance - that greatest joy.

what foolishness: to look to the grandest times of sorrow + suffering with the strongest sentiment of nostalgia + yearning. don’t you taste redemption? it is near. and in fact, it is here. suffer again; there is no fear.

death begets life. sorrow begets only the purest of all joys.

and here you are, young + naieve. what grand tragedy have you endured? you are a fool to write such ugly words. you cannot fathom the heart-break of the most awful tragedies. how can you so boldly proclaim that you yearn for them? in those most tragic of kingdoms that you have found yourself (though they know nothing of the depths of some - or most, for that matter!) always sustained by the power borne of such weaknesses.

if you must boast and delight in anything, delight in weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions and difficulties. when you are weak, then you are strong.