Sunday morning we lingered in bed tucked away from the cold reality of our uninsulated room, as the rain came down and the aspen turned outside. In each stint of wakefulness God said that we are now more spirit than flesh. There is no reason to have reservations about conducting the choir or any other work the spirit will lead my hands to perform. My meditations, antiphonal. You will know me. Read More
New product™ for sale:
It teaches you how to say,
“No, I don’t need one.” Read More
The artist must be blind to distinctions between “recognized” or “unrecognized” conventions of form, deaf to the transitory teaching and demands of his particular age. He must watch only the trend of the inner need, and hearken to its words alone. All means are sacred which are called for by the inner need. All means are sinful which obscure that inner need… We have before us the age of conscious creation, and this new spirit in painting is going hand in hand with the spirit of thought towards an epic of great spiritual leaders.
I am testament to God’s challenging sense of humor. He made me an artist but withheld creativity and relinquished my imagination at a premature age. I also fell in love with his wilderness and abhorred “his” ritual. I wasn’t given eyes to see how the world worked, the gears and mechanics of human invention and institution; but I was given vision to see it from a great distance so as to know its whole context, how it fit into all-worlds. Read More
Her hands prayed over
Man’s wet eyes his cracked lips spoke: Read More
In the little stone church, I did hear what Holy Spirit was saying to the Church and the power of grace shook the rocks and Rocky Mountains and leveled my understanding. It is the sadness of the world that there are people who look into the tomb and see a dead body. I was dead for so many years because that is what I saw. My own reflection, could it be? At the nuclear level there are two of us on earth: the one who sees death and the one who sees an empty tomb.
2013, Amaya Engleking
How to join in the true dance.
What’s your mood and modus operandi?
We’ve got many rooms, one for every need
and every provisional alliance,
each contingency. Sound-proofed
so your experience will not be compromised.
Here’s a list of drugs to take to enhance
your perception of what is happening.
Happy hardcore in endless loop cries havoc
and lets slip the dogs of war. Trance
fills & empties the lungs with recipes for self-care.
Dubstep says just aggregate your organs
into certainly the sun and, under palms,
a one-love spliff. There’s a barn
on the periphery for line dancing
and beer, the routine quest for a new
Dodge Ram and a happy marriage
with a decent plot of land. On a far hill
that fool who’s completely unplugged
is rinsing barley and singing lullabies
to the kit she rescued after the hurricane.
She is ageless, a deejay of the
incidental sounds of nature;
her third eye’s the…
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I crowned twilight with the breath of the mountain, diphthongs down the valley.
I found my flight on this diadem, opening mouth to allow vowels out
I wound them up with streams of clouds into a timbred halo, Read More
Reading Diana Butler Bass’ Christianity After Religion, I am confused why people are so interested in the question of ‘Spiritual’ vs. ‘Religious’. Anyone with at least half an open eye can see that God comes to meet people in myriad ways, each one beautiful even if obscured by partial blindness. Why mask the uniqueness and the miracle of each by classifying it into one or the other category? To be concerned with this debate is to squander the fruit of the spirit and put the human realm above or before God’s. Read More
Daddy has a pen
This is the poem he wrote
Now we call it, ‘Home’ Read More
“Little Lomy Loo” turns one today and she’s wobbling around pretending she’s Janis Joplin with her deep “blues” scowl she’s had since infancy, or eating dirt or dandelions, or giving me open-mouth, ready-to-nurse kisses on my cheekbone. And believe it or not, I’m nostalgic for her unmedicated, home water birth! Here is the full story for anyone needing the inspiration or who is curious about the miracle of birth.
My May baby. As you made the conviction that you were ready to be born into this world and slip today, May 19, 2016 from eternity into this strange design of time and measures, I ate the first cherries of the season. Once again and forever, these cherries taste sweeter when I talk to God.
At around 12:45am, some cramping woke me up but I didn’t think much of it since I’d been having irregular cramping for weeks. Plus, my due date was still three days away and I’d been convinced because of Qohelet’s birth that there was no way this baby was going to play by the rules either. But after about an hour of laying in the dark under almost-full moon-shine while the mild rushes came about every ten minutes or so, I asked Joshua not to go to work today. We heard Qoey stirring so while my…
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