Turning To Stone

"The dying embers of the night, a fire that slowly fades till dawn
Still glowing upon the wall so bright, turning, turning, turning
The tired streets that hide away from here to everywhere they go
Roll past my door into the day in my blue world. -ELO

HEAR his voice-
It is not enough to read, but one must hear (and of course be heard but that is anothe matter). God's word is his Voice. It is dynamic, alive. In this sense it is very much an event in each one's life. God's voice is therefore an indication of his presence and perogative. Our generation struggles with this because we have become repositories for knowledge. We have become addicted to space and are preoccupied with collecting. May it be possible that these are in conflict with giving and doing. That is, if the acquirement of space and the art of collecting are an act of receiving. Yet the Voice says, "It is better to give than to recieve." I suppose one might argue that our generation has returned to the value of experience. To which I would agree but I fear it is a tainted experience. I only say this because it seems so entertainment driven and personally motivated. The experiences we seek must be new, positive or more intense than the last. In which case the problem is not the experience but ourselves. The horror of self-absorbtion. It is reminescent of Adam and Eve's failure in the garden. In an instant our lives can turn from being theocentric to being anthrocentric. God can turn the desert into paradise. What are we turning it into?

DO not harden your hearts-
We are trying to change the landscape while the Voice is scrawling messages upon the caverns of our soul. That place where only kindled fire can cast light on. Shadows dance on the edge of darkness as one reads/hears his Voice scrawled upon the cavern of one's soul. Stay by the fire and heed the voice of one who cries out of the wilderness. Become the echo of his voice that you may emerg from the cavern and enjoy paradise. Sola Gracia, WHB

Forsaken

"On that day the splendor of Jacob will fade, and his healthy body will become emaciated." -Isaiah


Here in desert places,
There is that which is known as an oasis.

The barrenness of it all, as if forsaken.
Where is the cool runninig stream, the color of green?

Dust swirls on the wind; dry it is.
The limb has been severed from the root;
Hollow, brittle, empty of marrow.

Life vanishes from the face of the desert.
Is it an empty land?

There is no place for a branch without marrow.
Only those in the green discover the coveted valley.

The rest perish and die,
In God-forsaken places
For God-forsaken people.

Sola Gracia, WHB