The second huge upheaval
May come after salvation
Mountaintops have been shared
But the Valley has come
Stinging at first
Rebuked like some wasp
Staying and staying
Though oft the supplications
Mocking and shoving
Demons truly are leering
And damn surely
No one understands
Can offer a scintilla
Of wise comfort.
Alone and scarcely breathing
Panic unimagined
Is the Lord not big enough?
Not able enough?
Not filled with enough Love?
You are in the whale’s belly
Deep down
But some whisper
Suggests the shoreline
Happy hissing waves
Camaraderie of gulls
Heaven’s smile returned.
Death’s grinning clutches
Reversed and running.
Now a wind from somewhere
Kindly sets the sails


In Conversation

Navigating shorelines
by visual aides,
landmarks and dead reckonings
losing sight of the WAY
“deep calls to deep”
in my sleep,
i hear you beckoning,
in silence, wide awake, asleep

Rushing of wind
rustling of palms
i meet you there
the same place
as in prayer
or in David’s psalms
without thinking
in this place…
where my own thoughts
are my very own worst enemies

When i awaken
i don’t remember a thing
but after morning prayers
and the day’s activities begin,
while driving…
i’m walking through waking dreams
and it all comes pouring back in

Navigating shorelines anew
scanning for stranded survivors
looking for tell-tale signs, flares, bonfires

Making some progress
growth is painful
A Truth so evident
in Truth…
i cannot claim to understand
in attempting to
can only under-mind,
the tasks assigned
that i should be more mind-full of

Does the oyster know
the agitation is causing
something new and beautiful to form?
Can sand be held in hands?
and if so,
for how long?
An hour at a time perhaps…
in a measured amount, in a glass?
sand, fire and air, pristine sparkling vessels

In complete immersion,
through no efforts of it’s own,
sculpted by sun, sand, salt, water and tide,
is not the driftwood bobbing aimlessly in the sea,
washed ashore…
Sun dried…unique, transformed, beautiful?

Created in His image,
how can we be anything less than?
but we are, aren’t we?
In our own eyes…
if only we could see,
what you see in us,
And how You love us unconditionally.

We Rise…

To one who has faith, no explanation is necessary. To one without faith, no explanation is possible.”
– Thomas Aquinas

God Bless


Some time ago I planted some seeds I purchased on amazon from Puerto Rico. Hard to find herbs and bitter/sweet peppers I use in preparing traditional dishes culantro (not the same as cilantro), recao, ajices dulce’. I planted many seeds In many rows but from out of ten or so rows only one single row sprouted. I checked everyday and eventually almost three weeks later another row partially sprouted…after a couple of weeks more passed and no more sprouted I gave up on any more sprouting. Usually when they sprout they are quite tiny. This morning I looked and a new sprout had emerged and it brought me to tears when the dots connected. I realized something, actually it was more of a re-affirmation. I learned that all things are in His time, according to His plan and His purpose. Did I already “know” this?, apparently I needed an illustration!

See…what flashed before me was four days that Lazarus lay “asleep”, Romans 8:28, the parable of the “sower”, what I saw was not simply a “sprout” but a tiny little miracle of “birth” with tremendous repercussions that belies the enormity of what we simply perceive as tiny. A blessing is a blessing there are no measures or comparisons just as a “miracle” is a miracle…no matter the measure by human understanding.

The seed that sprouted and emerged this morning, that was not visible last night but was almost the same height as those I planted 6 weeks ago. One more illustration of how by grace some of us are further along in our walk than others…but yet equal in all respects to all brethren and seekers of truth.

Comes to mind…”the last will be first and the first will be last”

The seeds represent puzzle pieces to me in a sense , in time, in different seasons, sprouting in a sort of pattern, that in turn begin to form a specific direction in thought, when the time is right, His time…it all coalesces in an instant whereby the pen moves or the keys are tapped. No effort whatsoever required…only patience and obedience whether consciously or otherwise. The “visuals” take form from out of the ethers…this is the way I write…it took decades to understand this compelling reluctant obedience I am as much “out of body” by-standing…when I read it as others.

If you really know, trust and believe, you would be as amazed, astounded, and awestruck as i. There is no “I” whatsoever in the undertaking, no none to claim.

Love, Anthony.