empathy outside my window

The wind speaks so loudly up the valley

To anyone that will listen, it is yelling

The trees are full up with understanding

Despite their unfortunate deafness

So with their many piney branches

They talk a quiet, broad sign language

Enfolding, embracing the gales and gusts

They calm the desperate soul of the wind

a moment in prayer

I felt lost and a bit overwhelmed and disconnected

I said in my head

that I felt like I was on a hill looking over Galilee

Or down on the water

On a boat

And wondering what would happen if I fell

Frisson divine rippled over my body

And I was not alone

I was not alone.

"All is not lost, child."

In the voice that isn't a voice

But a calm, voice shaped hole

In the silence around it.

My middle is softly warmed, almost

Imperceptibly

Antithetically

By a million tiny cool pinpricks

On my outside

For He knows every hair on my head

And every follicle on my body

And loves me

And loves me anyway

my soul is an electromagnetic whale

My soul is an electromagnetic whale 

Swimming in spiritual space 

Coils energised, twisting 

diving into the world

radiating at certain frequencies

From the edges of my fins as I turn

I need to come up for air

That breach, that upward yearning

Pirouette in open space

Are you there, Lord?

At apogee

Far from where I'd normally be

Dancing through the Van Allen belts

Of the invisible Spirit, the aura of God

My ferrite bones, my coils thrumming

One link in a chain of spirit, 

electromagnetically charged by the next

Refilled once more by the breath of love

Gracefully,

Now full of grace

Falling back into the cold ocean

To radiate anew

Technician's curse

Technician's curse

Everything in my life

Almost works perfectly

soul lens

She is a lens of a telescope
focusing heavenly light
which she cannot herself perceive

She gathers the light
swims with it, collimating
coruscating
she cannot hold onto it,
she feels only dark
and confusion

But the light found her, chose her
when it passes through, it grows
only sweeter
and no other lens will do

No other light is better
or more lovely
or more true
than the light that shines
through the lens
of her soul.

She used to look at the stars
with her dad, and his
Telescope

And now sometimes
just sometimes
his light comes down the reflector tube
just to shine with her again

__________________________________

For my Becca,

from Morgan