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For regular readers who want to see the most recent added entry without searching through the entire following page, go to the blog. Ghost of Perfection What new can be said? What new can possibly be said? Has not all been spoken? Have we not said everything possible? read more of Ghost of Perfection SILKEN TIDE excerpt The earth and this valley welcome the sun, eternal cycles embraced once again, the brief celebration of life and creation quickly pirouetting through the columns of light and shadow before the noise of traffic and the din of vapid conversation send Life into hiding for another too busy day. full text of SILKEN TIDE Excerpt from Storm of Creation Click to read all. Copyright 2020 - 2021 Don Ray ....This world is merely a storm, all existence is storm, a rude disruption of the eternal status quo. Creation does not unfold as a gentle ripple across the shimmering surface of space-time. Creation, of a universe or your soul, explodes at the sharp end of the lightning bolt, expands through the concussion of the thunder. Turn and face it, let it disrupt your life, this thunder of ongoing Creation...... Threads of Smoke Copyright 2021 Don Ray. Feel free to print and share. Life. Death. Defining time. Moments gone before recognized, cherished only in their departure. There is no holding them. There is no conveying them. We see them only as fading images, each already past, leaving its dimming imprint, dissolving to wipe the sand clean, making room for the next experience, a curious assemblage of rapidly fading images sewn together with wisps of smoke to create what we call our life. Just a Moment Nothing in your past is gone, it is simply here, each moment past a building block upon which this moment stands. All the tears and laughter culminate in this moment. Don’t let them be for naught. See the rest of Just a Moment Shadow Embrace The embrace of shadows, welcoming home; Mere projections of embrace, offering hints of the depths of connection. Perfection dances behind the shadows, projecting silhouettes of souls onto time, that we might touch and be touched; Welcome home, welcome home, perfection hidden for now, awaiting the timeless merging where now becomes past and future, and the substance behind our shadows is revealed. Shadow Embrace Symphony of Chance Hear the chimes, that penetrating sound, the sound of wind instantiated. Harmonious, ethereal sound released by impact and collision. Hear the chimes, allow their ringing to penetrate, a purity of frequency from which to build a world. Let others wrestle with meanings of obtuse and obvious. Read more of Symphony of Chance Breeze of Mystery We create our religions, we concoct our dogmas, to explain the sensations that ripple across the surface of our soul, but the breeze of Spirit will not be captured nor tamed to suit our human fancies. Sometimes gentle, usually unnoticed, on occasion fierce and undeniable, the wind of the Mystery brushes the skin of our soul, warming, cooling, remaining steadfastly invisible, bringing the weather of Creation that shapes our destiny. Read the entire Breeze of Mystery Lessons of the Mystery Keep listening. Hear the sounds of speculations rattle to and fro within the Mystery. All you will hear is the Mystery laughing….. but it is not a scornful laugh. It is almost playful, as if we take the Mystery much too seriously. It is glad we explore it, welcomes our investigations and speculations, our philosophies and theologies, like a parent smiling at the crawling infant’s explorations about the room. Read the rest of Lessons of the Mystery No Time for Grief No time for grief, these times, no time for grief. Too much to get done in too short a time. Too little hope to risk letting that last flickering ember go out. The madness has penetrated too deep and too high, to the highest echelons and the deepest of the sandy foundations. There is no time to waste when the beams and girders that supported society are already falling in twisted heaps about our heads. The charade is over - the facades are falling - the masquerade has reached its grotesque, unforeseeable, and inevitable conclusion. Hold fast to what love you can in the deluge, hold fast to what is truly precious, as the swirling flotsam of material disaster batters and bashes in taunting reminder of its once decadent uselessness. Conveniently Rational Munitions excerpt Excuses abound for our sins. Reasons aplenty explain our self-absorption. The endless cycle, a parent and necessity and social norms driving our individual role in the great churning engine, the malevolent engine, the malignant engine of personal and societal cause and effect excusing, always excusing, our actions and inactions. Read more of Conveniently Rational Munitions Portal of Your Soul (excerpt) So your faces reflect your self-imposed exile, Grim and determined, Scowling and taught, until social situation dictates donning the mask of a smile. Read all of Portal of Your Soul Read all of Light Light doesn’t stand a chance. Viewed from within this world darkness reigns. Yet Light is everywhere, filling the carnal world, merely waiting for the right surface, the right life, to reflect the Light, making Light visible, Blame not the Light for the darkness. It is we who must absorb it, reflect it, transmit it. Read all of Light Read all of Worship It is worship intensely alone, excruciatingly individual. No convenient totems and trinkets, mandalas and statues, idols and altars, none of that for this worship. This is worship without rules and regulations, without dogma and dictates. This is worship without preconception, worship without expectation. This is worship by the soul that understands nothing. This is worship immune to liturgy and lecture. ........................ This is worship alternately steely eyed and teary eyed. This is worship lived out in life. This is worship honest and stripped, honest with the self and honest with that unseen Greater beyond the self. This is worship perplexed and angry and grieving and despairing. No wishful thinking, this worship. No blind acceptance, this faith. This is worship in abject doubt underlain by immutable certainty. Read all of Worship You Will Be Touched The human spirit, or is it soul, or do we have no name for it, something individual, something lost, or was it forgotten? Something survives in the face of it all, something of the God that we would deny. Something survives, inextinguishable, always nascent, a potential. Do not turn from it, you distant listener, you detached observer, you bored reader. This is about you. You have either survived too much or you will survive too much to deny that pricking at your unnamed soul. Flee for now if you must, but there is no escape. Consciousness will catch up to you. Read all of You Will Be Touched Read all of Incarnationalism It is thin and flimsy, this gauzy veil of the world. Penetrate it, proceed past it, taking note of the Light that begins to appear, begins to shine through the unraveling threads of the dissipating corporeal. Incarnationalism indeed, when Spirit is not confined by the body, but expressed through the body. Sensations can reveal the illusion of the physical, or sensations can sense that beyond the physical. No matter the confusion, for it is confusion about the tangled twists of smoke. Fret not about untying the knot when the knot is only made of smoke. Read all of Incarnationalism Edge Read all of Edge It is the thinnest of boundaries, beyond which is the deepest of Realities. It surprises, because little in our world would lead us to expect that a boundary of peace enwraps us. It is approached only with intent; but it does not retreat from our explorations. It is we who retreat from our explorations of this layer of peace in which our furious world is contained. This peace lies beyond us, and we can reach it only by searching within us. Read all of Edge Symphony of Chance Countless tones, weaving, intermingled so soon fading and gone. No song or composition perform these chimes, just each a note, each played by chance, to penetrate these times. LAUGHS OF GRASS Golden grasses, the bed for last night's deer, as beautiful as when fresh and green. Grass and air now crisp, they laugh as we walk through, while in summer softness they sighed. MERE FAITH TO MOVE MOUNTAINS click to read more The path was never clear because it never existed. Yet against all odds, clueless and naïve, you got somewhere, and quite a somewhere it was. It was in fact perfect, those somewheres raggedly stitched together by the miracles. ANOTHER FRESH START Copyright 2021 Don Ray. Feel free to print and share. What's left, when every plan has failed? What remains after every hope is dashed? What endures when every expectation has collapsed? The lessons. The humility. The clean start. The clean slate. The purity of nothing. You are finally out of the way. Now something beyond your limited imagination can unfold. Now go forth, having come forth from the wreckage. Hopelessness can be liberating. Revel in your powerlessness. Freedom From Opportunities excerptIt is in the absence of opportunities, then we see what we will do with the life we are given, then we see who we are, when not tempted, not led, when left to our own devices. 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