Posts made in April, 2008

Peace (poem by Tony Edwards)

If Peace fulfills my heart’s desire,
While Past and Future both conspire
To harm me and mislead;
If Peace can warm me when I’m cold
And comfort me as I grow old,
Then Peace is all I need.

The Road to Tel Aviv

It is the end of another business day, school-day, peace-keeping day. Soldiers, school children, a handful of tourists, Hasidic Jews all pile on and empty off the bus in drips, droves, coughs and sputters, as the bus navigates the stew of the afternoon rush.

Soldiers are everywhere in Israel; more pronounced in Jerusalem, less visible in Tel Aviv. They are all young. College young. Just- out-of -high -school young. A period of military service is a mandatory part of the young Israelis’ journey into adulthood, for both men and women. This rite-of-passage speaks of the reality of a societal burden as old as the stones in the temple walls here.

what kind of love?

what kind of love do we know
is this a love of holding on
or a love of letting go?

what kind of love, is this love that we have;
is it a love of doing, or a love of being?

is this a love of imagination, or a love of seeing?

what kind of love is this love that we’ve known?
a love of looking at maps, or the journey going home?
a love of believing, or a love of knowing?
a river dammed up – or water that is flowing?

a love that we’re saving, or a love that we’re showing?

What Moves Us All to Dream

What moves us all to dream,
to think, to love, to act,
to give it up for some great cause
or double back to pause before our plans
of having more or getting there
or going to the country fair
is the same for everyone:
the sage, the fool, the king,
the self-appointed ministers of fun.

Einstein said it best, I think,
or maybe it was Rumi,
both of whom were missing links
from this to that, from here to there,
mystics of the unseen arts,
demystifying what it is that moves the air
and the human heart.

Still I wonder what it is I thirst for in my bones,
what will be enough to feel.
Is it what I see with these two eyes
or what I know beyond them both
is always just a bit concealed –
that which seizes me from deep within,
the mirror of my soul, my other half, my perfect twin,
the one who knows, but doesn’t tell
or if he does, it’s just enough
to dig my tunnel deeper to the well
where all the seekers that I am have come to drink,
long before the first parable was told.

excerpted from The Heart of the Matter

These Incredible Threads

These incredible Threads
In the Garment you Weave
Have been tangled in my Heart
Since the Begining of Time

Their color is Deep and Rich and Sincere;
Their intention is Good, Their disposition,
Fair and Gentle.