On those days

On those days
where everything is lost
where no bird comes to the window
where I am not sitting on a volcano
where the wind is not with me,

On those mornings
where I am sitting in a hole
in the ground unable even
to contemplate contemplating my navel,

On those nights
where the dark and empty of the world
can hardly summon the necessary
to whisper an echoed song of loss
to a dark and empty soul,

Then
I can do well to remember
that a falling tide
flows all the way out
to the horizon
twice in every day
and twice in every day
a rising tide flows
all the way back to the shore.

Glad i skogen

I could long for no greater master
Than the forest teacher
Who with wind and silence says
‘Be still’

No greater doctor than
The forest healer who
Holding life and death within her says
‘You belong. And are not lost’

No greater friend than
The forest priest who
In chorus with a thousand million leaves says
‘We are but visitors here. Let go.’

Stand for love

Easier said than done
So say it first
Then do it:

Stand for love.

Easy to do what’s easy
And forget it
But don’t. No.

Stand for love.

For it is our gift
To know in any moment
What love wants.

Stand for love.

And it is a duty
To listen for ourselves
And everyone and

Stand for love.

Abandon nice.
Don’t do the right thing.
Listen harder. And

Stand for love.

And it is a fight.
Against every easier call
Against it all -

Stand for love.

For it is only in standing
That we live.
So let life begin

And stand for love.

What do you long for?

“Every work of man should have the nature of a love song.” — Eric Gill

What do you long for? 
Can you tell me? 
Do you know?

What is it that your heart sings for?

If we leave behind the afternoon chat — 
of what shall we have for dinner
or where shall we go tomorrow.

If we forget about to do lists
and appointments and that
and listen out for what’s beyond them —

What do you long for.

There is a quickening that comes
with gathering up your life
and handing it over to devotion.

What is your gift? 
What is in you that longs to be given?

I am asking because I want to know. 
And because the answer is holy. 
And because, underneath everything, 
everybody knows.

The something that you stand for. 
Long for. Wish for. Dream of. 
Your calling. Your life’s work. 
Your allotted task
on these few turns around the sun.

And it’s always easier not to say it. 
Always easier to put it to one side. 
Always easier to say we get along just fine
and we’re all sort of muddling along
the same sort of path to somewhere.

Easier to ask “What did you think of this?” 
and “Did you see that thing that somebody did?” 
To live in a world of affiliation. 
Of likes and dislikes. 
Of preference as reference.

And it is harder.
To listen deep.
To be still enough — 
To sink as a stone dropped in a well.
To be able to talk
Not of how this fits with that or what might happen if
But of something that is yours and cannot be moved.

It is this that I stand for. 
It is this my world will always turn around.

And it is harder still
Not only to talk of something that is yours and cannot be moved
But to act upon it.

To wake up this morning and gild every shining moment
With the intent and loving attention of one who is devoted.

To see the washing and the car
And the road and the house
And the shopping and the table
And the things that must be done

And bring to every thing
The truth of what is yours

That your life
In every word and deed
Might sing its song of love.

Flood

May your heart be a flood
And fill you with love
Unmooring every broken vessel
Drawing ocean anchors from their holding -
Offering no path but
To surrender to boundless powers
Of forces that know no fight
But are mighty
By their very nature.