What the Holy Spirit Feels Like


Washed in your warm breath
Doubt droplets evaporate
At once, vacuumous
You are all there ever was Read More

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Holy

The Medjugorje visionary saw Mary, Mother of God hovering above the couple’s marital bed years ago, on which we now all solemnly, humorlessly — the Catholic way — procession in and toss rose petals, strategically set as the climax of this strange retreat, hosted by the couple.
“And now, without further ado…”
Blessed be this holy site! Heal me from what ails me!

Miserere Domine!*

…In a nauseous wave I’m moved to clear the air and run out of the incensed house, myrrh potpourri and Advent boughs, perfected confectioneries and stained glass donation jars, into a southern December dusk where woods laugh but take my offering: Read More

Embracing Blessed Pregnancy (Shape Poem)

I am
in bloom.
Full of blood,
bubbling, full of life.
Face aglow, I am awed
by the blood vessels
flowing into womb,
thickened veins and
umbilical pulse.  I can
feel their swollen contours
as they inflect upwards beneath
the skin.  Bulbous breasts plump with
sweet amber, ~~ dripping like blackstrap
molasses. ~~ Soon the ambrosia will pour
forth as the new baby feeds,  feeding the
flowering plants, tuberose and jasmine,
clematis and columbine,  blossoming
blackberry brambles; ~~ this milky
blancmange enriching the fertile
soil of spring. ~~ Efflorescence Read More

Source/El Origen

Manikhorlo – Tibetan water-spun prayer wheels

Here’s a freestyle poem I wrote in China seven years ago after spending a couple months living with a family in a Tibetan village. Then, while spending another couple months in Colombia a year later, I translated the poem into Spanish. I’m going to repost it today for Paul’s prompt at the Pub asking us about our libations of choice. Come join in! My choice of drink is that which comes directly from the skies.

Source

Word to the people of the world
It’s in the water, as a loving Father
Or a bodhisattva comes to us
From the skies, formed of his designs,
By gravity of grace, here to remind
Unblind, and hydrate all that has dried
Into a reality we face: Read More

My Life

Photography by Amaya Engleking

In 1984 I had colic but through 1993 the years were idyllic, running with wolves and kissing Jesus on the cheek. Watching the stars dance for me outside my bedroom window. When we moved from the sunshine when I was ten my hair slowly turned dark, and soon did everything else. Read More

Handmade 

 

Behold! upward surge through the diadem
Sun lifts the people, its prayer for all of them:
‘This day will be a glimpse of Holy Spirit,
Some will kneel adoring, some will fear it.
Yet all who rise be taken up in the Word,
Though evil built a world and deterred
Creaturehood from knowing its Womb,
The love generated by Bride and Groom; Read More

Gestation

Jhinu dusk. Photography by Amaya Engleking

Pregnant in Jhinu, a hot springs village in the Annapurna region of Nepal, the clear waters ran down and I saw the richest valley in the world: those who live so close to the source of the earth’s last glaciers. Listen, little baby, to the word of God, holy water flowing down the mighty Himal, feeding the Indus, Brahmaputra, and Ganga and all who receive sustenance from these rivers of living gospel. The ones who can hear say, “We the children of the Most High, are led to the highest peaks so we may pray here. By our being here in constant communion with God, the snows come and feed the world living waters.”

Jhinu hot springs, Annapurna. Photography by Joshua Engleking

But in the Langtang temple on the festival day I felt alone Read More

Sonic Boom, Empty Tomb

Photography via Osttirol.com

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 

Baptism 


I drove up to the mountains sensing freedom, but drove past my intended destination of the hot springs. Something was moving me, I was not in control but I was enveloped in complete peace. The interstate turned into an off-ramp, the pavement turned into dirt, and the 4-wheel drive turned into 2-leg only. Where I could no longer drive up the snowy and muddy road, on the stereo Roberta Flack was singing “Killing Me Softly” and I, content with my own slow death.  Read More