dailydatewithgod

What do you mean
three pointing back at me?
How can it be
If I am the one who sees?

Or is it more true
to say I am the fool
believing it a tool
to be able to point at you?

What are we pointing to
whether at me or you?

Is the intent to find contempt
and something to rally against?
Or find a way to direct
a level of respect
for the elements
we hold with discontent?

What makes us perceive
or even believe
the things we label as peeves
are that which need to be relieved
and not merely weaved
into things to reconceive?

“You spot it you got it!”
So hard to admit
The very thing we want you to omit
Is within us . . legit
Instead of buying into the conflict
and a head that wants to quit

We can opt into a different realm
where standing at the helm
is the gem
of what is held
deep within our cells

Beating like a drum-bell
opening a door outside the hell
of thinking we must expel
the elements that compel
us to see ourselves
as less-than-perfect vessels

Our hearts hold the vision
A different kind of prism
Through which we envision
The qualities of opposition
as the avenues of an expedition
enabling us to become magicians
and metaphysicians

Transforming our peeves
and pointing us to what makes us free

Over committed
Over whelmed
Over doing it
or just Over it?

What happens when we go under?
do things go asunder?
or do we just wonder?
or try not to shudder?

Attempting to discover
what lies beneath
Will we recover
from taking away the sheath?

So much protection
to bar infection
we find ourselves at the intersection
choosing the path of insight or deflection?

What will it be?
Who might we see?
Can we agree?
It is worth a degree
of fear
to look beneath the debris?

Looking through the under
might cause some blunder
but what if it utters
insights engendering wonder?

Only with some courage
and dodging transferral
we might find the transporter
to become an over all explorer

Moving past the confines
of our minds
Can be a grind
trying to find time

To explore the unknown
daring to become known
navigating outside labels thrown
at us like they are our own

It rather hysterical
becoming almost lyrical
Moving with the beat of time
to find our own rhyme

Venturing to define
what we deem as fine
outside the party line
of what is deemed refined

The path to get there
seems to come from nowhere
beckoning us closer
to seeking exposure

Of what our heart composes
and believes are roses
petals soft and wispy
twirling of mystery

So if we dare to seek
go within to the deep
we may discover
what is there to uncover
steered from our breath
that which is meant
to guide our trek

Yin and Yang
it includes the whole shebang
If you’re drawing a blank
don’t worry you won’t be hanged

When we choose
to include
even make room for the tabooed
don’t expect to be approved
more like booed
or god-forbid sued

To embrace the place
where all have space
requires setting aside abase
and grappling with traits
not displayed in a glass case

How can we expect
to be accepted
when we neglect
to stay inner-connected

with ourselves
instead putting away in cells
the parts we wish we could expel
and say final farewells
because we repel
elements of ourselves
presenting the opposite of demoiselles

What therefore does it take
to think of embracing
or even entertaining
what we want to forsake?

Our minds
are in a bind
they cannot find
a way to redesign
the outline
of what is considered fine

Only our heart’s vehicle
simple
and not hypercritical
open to the nontypical
or even metaphysical
which can wiggle

outside the confines
of our fixed mind
opening an incline
providing a lens outside the refined
inviting us to realign
with the rhythm of the divine

It’s an awakening
But not the kind where you are struck
Like a bolt from above
This is more like a fire
That is enkindled from within
Deep within where it is easy to forget
The truth of you always lives

It keeps the fire of truth burning
Even if it is those little embers
Looking like they are about to go out

Then your heart breathes a little more life
And they light up a little brighter
The fire is fed by the moments we easily dismiss
The ones that strike our hearts and remind us we are alive

Sometimes the aliveness hurts
So we can’t imagine the aliveness being good
But life is life
All is included

The good
The bad
The ugly

The messy and the pretty
The polite and the rude
The welcomed and the turned away

We do not get to determine which parts remind us of it
We only get to use all of what is handed to us and decide what to make of it
It is in the decision that we form it
Into the story our life tells
To the world
But mostly to ourselves

We get to choose how to play the cards we are dealt
We don’t get to choose when it starts or ends
We can choose to play full out
Or sit on the sidelines
There is a reason for the sidelines on the playing field
Why players get substituted in and out
They all have a role to play in the game of life
The importance of our role is up to us
Some will tell us whether ours is up to snuff or not
But the questions remain:
What role are they playing when they are deciding the value of ours?
What role have we given them to play in ours?
Do they symbolize what we believe about ourselves?
What we fear about the fire within us?
Is it bright enough?
Will it go out before we get another breath to fuel it?
What if it is not seen by others?
What if we are afraid to get too close to it?
What if we have been scared by it before?

What if we are just awakening to the curiosity of how the fire of life has survived all these years?

So many questions
So few answers

So we pray for one more breath
One more moment to tap a little closer
into the awakening of the fire within
a chance to ask another question
discover a little more
and find a way to make the light within
shine through the heart we are choosing to know

and who knows
maybe someone will see our light
whether on the field or the sidelines
and remember to trust
it is lives within them too
all they have to do is
breathe

When things go amiss
Do we wish to dismiss
the impact or potential abyss
we feel we cannot permit?

Or does it consist
of finding an assist
to send out our ships
and get things fixed?

The times which challenge us
offer a chance to discuss
what kind of guts
we need to adjust

How we embrace the mess
can show us how we digress
or create a door to progress

I must confess
it pivots on how much I bless
this bloody mess

It sounds counterintuitive
not to lean towards accusative
or be still instead of fluid

It’s about finding the nutritive
leading to a lucrative
connection with the intuitive

Showing me beyond what I can see
or hear
or am sure is all that’s real

Apparently, it is the turmoil
from which we find the good soil

Despite our inclination to avoid
we can learn how to exploit
and make it worthwhile

It’s about finding the nutritive
leading to a lucrative
connection with the intuitive

When we find ourselves at a loss
Not sure what to think
Do we go and look for a boss
Or freeze like a sphinx

Why does it seem so hard
an actually easier to disregard
as though we might end up charred
because we attempted to enlarge
and explore like Picard

Do we notice the perception
we hold of our unanswered questions?
Are we left feeling less than
just because we dare step outside the clan

Groupthink also known as less think
for ourselves
prohibits standing on the brink
of our chance to step into new realms

Do we fear the overwhelm
of others seeing us differently
and impede our chance to excel
by growing consistently

It makes some sense
given the contents
of our evolutionary defense
against not ending up belonging only via correspondence

Searching and discovering
leaves us wondering
if everything
we have been learning
is still relevant

Yet questions
still beckon
and implore us to consider for a second
what might come from looking in a new direction

The heartbeats faster
as our minds seek in matter
on how to factor
how we could live as an adaptor

Maybe it does not have to be one or the other
Still honoring the ideas of our mother
we make room for the curious flutter
that comes from meeting the ideas of another

Somewhere in the mix
there might be some tricks
a chance to step away from the cliques
and begin to depict
what it means to intermix
with others who also investigate this

whatever this is
is
on your ship

It’s hard to imagine
what life would be like
if we were stuck on a wagon
riding the road of no end in sight.

Good thing it’s not 1883
and heading to the pacific sea

A haunting tale
my mind train on one track
I can thank Taylor Sheridan for that

Roping me in
again and again
with the haunting music
that won’t unstick

So far from my kind of life
yet recognizing the strife
knowing what it means to fight
just to allow my spirit to fly

Her story is not mine
though a kindred spirit outside of time
searching and grasping just to define
the essence of what it means to be alive

The content is different
the process, same
being deliberate
about finding her way

Through the inner cave
of a heart broken open
choosing to proclaim
I AM not broken

Removing any blame
and declare I have awoken

The power of what is true within me
will overcome what has beseeched me

I am a locomotion
erasing any corrosion
creating an explosion
of multifaceted emotions

Returning to the conclusion
though life is full of illusions
I can speak with perfect elocution

There is no brokenness here
despite the cloudy atmosphere
the truth is perfectly clear

I AM WHOLE

Does it ever feel like we are just bumbling around
never quite finding our way?
Like we got dropped into a universe without a sense of ground
or how to find a place to stay

I’ve heard some say
we are foreigners here
and meant to feel led astray
prompting us to dive beneath the veneer
to seek our own way
and learn to persevere
amidst the fray
learning to commandeer
how only we can portray
what it means to be okay
despite what others say

To stop looking to others
as if they have the answers
to the common mutters
laying in our hearts like ransom

Begging to be negotiated
by one willing to learn the rhythm
of what makes it satiated
so it can operate outside the prism
of our minds’ confines
based solely on the known defined
and step into the wisdom
of our heart’s trust in the undefined
one momentous breath at a time

Is it prideful
to be delightful
amidst all the stifle
and so many clinging for mere survival?

Or is better to spiral
and rifle
through the eyeful
of tragic nightfall
appearing as the fateful
arrival
of awareness of our denial?

How long can we be idle
pretending it’s not somewhat suicidal
to bar ourselves from seeing the grateful
and stay souped in the direful?

If we attempt to be mindful
we awaken to the revival
of what it means to be thoughtful
conjuring up a vial
with reasons to be hopeful

A moment’s reprieve
from the idyl feed
where the mind misleads
is all we need

In order to proceed
we just need
to deeply
breathe