>From the Journey…

>Some poetic musings woven through my journey….


“This is my treasure,” he says
pointing to the big black marble
rolling round and round in his small black hand,
“and I’m going to keep it
till the day I die…

I love it because it’s
big and black like me
and I can see my face in it,”
says the young-old boy
walking at my side.

He bends down
and picks up a flattened die
from the roadside.
“See!” he exclaims,
“More treasure. Wow! I’m rich!”
“You sure are,” I reply.

Slowly, as we walk through the
city’s shell-shocked streets,
his fingers intertwine with mine
and we walk on in silence:
our treasures both
clasped firmly in hand.

I too am now rich.

–mp 3/96, Inner city Texas

Forgive Me…

Shopping in the market place,
I felt a tiny tug on my hand
and looked down to see two deeply set eyes
staring hopefully into mine.
“Mah” the small beggar boy cried,
pointing to his twisted limb.
Clumsily I fumbled for two taka to give to him,
but found only fives and tens.
“Maph kOrum, forgive me, I have no change.
Kintu tomar namki– but what’s your name?”
Surprised, a shy smile crossed his face.
“You– one leg?” he asked with concern. “I’m sorry.”
“Heh– Yes, from birth.”
His eyes brightened and he searched his empty rags.
Then touching my hand, he sadly said,
“Maph kOrum, forgive me, I have nothing to give.”
He limped away and I was left alone,
pierced by the wealth of his compassion,
and the poverty of my own.

–mp 1997 Khulna, Bangladesh

the chasm called unknowing

i stood and peered beyond me–
into pitch black nothingness:

the chasm called unknowing.

The nothing there cried out,
the questions of my deepest being…

the questions whose unknown answers
were deep calling to deep in the
roar of my greatest fears.

who am I?
what does it mean
to be me?

the darkness shouted the questions,
i feared the answers.
did i even want to know?
what if there were no answers?
or worse, what if i hated what
i found?

so i trembled at the brink of unknowing:

did i dare jump in hope of
encountering reality?
if I settled for all i knew now–
i settled for images and
exchanged the truth
for a lie.

the thought of living behind a painted smile
of less-than-reality suddenly
darker than the nothingness of

i gathered all i knew of life and truth and me
and threw them over the edge
prepared to plunge, to plummet…

instead, i found myself held close in
the strong embrace of steady arms…
that tenderly gathered all my little
knowings with all my big
to himself in love.

slowly the nothingness around me
as i opened my eyes and chose to

there looking
into the face of LOVE
i learned to dance the steps

there in the chasm called unknowing,

i was not falling,
i was learning
to fly

–mp 2/14/98 Texas

The Edges of His Ways

He Who suspends the sky in space,
And makes seas roar at His Word:
He hangs the heavens in their place,
All praise be to the Living One!

He Who conquers with His right hand,
And shines forth in brilliant light:
His thoughts are as the grains of sand,
As countless as the stars of night.

And these are but lone whispers faint
Of His powerful array:
Who then can grasp all that’s contained
Within the edges of His ways?

–mp 9/8/97 Job 26.7-14

coffee and conjecture

beans and rice and cappuccino steam
we sit and talk
about bowls of rice that feed five for a day
and beans, a luxury, we say
as we sit sipping mocha lattes

HUNGER the faces of 38,000
children that cry from the silence of day-old graves
(is Love declared in the grave
or Faithfulness in destruction?)

what does that look like?
we can’t conceive
every sip another one dies
voices that shout loud whispers into the silence
in distant lands: Bosnia, Bangladesh Brunei
in far off places across the street
will we… can we hear their cries
while sipping cappuccino
and discussing beans and rice?

–mp 1996

The Love That Created Everything

The Love that created everything.
Before time, Love was.
It pulsated in the vast reaches of eternity.

But there is Love without relationship.
There is no relationship without choice.

So Love spoke and galaxies swirled into being.
A world formed that could be the canvas
Of creativity, the context of encounter.

Love reached down and formed man, woman:
A people created out of Love for Love to
Live out a relationship with Love itself.

But love is not love without a choice.
Love cannot be forced.
There is no compulsion it its embrace.

The people created for Love
chose independence.
They themselves turned away
from Love’s gaze.

From the dawning of time,
Every person who has ever had breath,
Also had a Love shaped hole
Only to be filled with that for which
it was created—Love that is true.

There are many false loves out there.
False lovers that call out into loneliness
Counterfeit charmers that cry lies
and call them promises

I’ll love you if…
I’ll love you for…
I’ll love you because…
I’ll love you when…

Love that demands something in return:
strings attached become chains
of other’s expectations
of fulfillment.

True Love:
Love that gives itself freely for another…
Only this love can fill the void.
I’ll love you.

We can only give away what we have
so we must return to the Source…

The Source of the dream
The Source of the intention
The Source of Life.

Where do we find the channels that lead
us back to the stream
That shows us the ocean
That releases the spring.

Love welling up within
From a Source that never
Runs dry.

Rivers in desert wastes
Gardens in places of holocaust.


Love came down
Love’s ultimate expression
in the earth
came to give His life away:

To show us
Love that heals
Love that frees
Love that sees

Love that stepped into time
from eternity
to brings us back
to the
Love that Created Everything.

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