SEEDS OF PEACE

Those of you who have followed my blog know that most of what I post is original madness. The passage below I plucked from the September issue of Sun Magazine today and found it simply beautiful and thought provoking.

I am not that familiar with author, Megan McKenna, but plan to change that as I begin examining the parables of Jesus more closely in seeking more anchors of truth.

An Excerpt from Parables: The Arrows of God by Megan McKenna

"There was a woman who wanted peace in the world and peace in her heart and all sorts of good things, but she was very frustrated. The world seemed to be falling apart. She would read the newspapers and get depressed. One day she decided to go shopping, and she went into a mall and picked a store at random. She walked in and was surprised to see Jesus behind the counter. She knew it was Jesus because he looked just like the pictures she'd seen on holy cards and devotional pictures. She looked again and again at him, and finally she got up enough nerve and asked, 'Excuse me, are you Jesus?' 'I am.' 'Do you work here?' 'No,' Jesus said, 'I own the store.' 'Oh, what do you sell in here?' 'Oh, just about anything!' 'Anything?' 'Yeah, anything you want. What do you want?' She said, 'I don't know.' Well,' Jesus said, 'feel free, walk up and down the aisles, make a list, see what it is that you want, and then come back and we'll see what we can do for you.'

"She did just that, walked up and down the aisles. There was peace on earth, no more war, no hunger or poverty, peace in families, no more drugs, harmony, clean air, careful use of resources. She wrote furiously. By the time she got back to the counter, she had a long list. Jesus took the list, skimmed through it, looked up and smiled, 'No problem.' And then he bent down behind the counter and picked out all sorts of things, stood up, and laid out the packets. She asked, 'What are these?' Jesus replied, 'Seed packets. This is a catalog store.' She said, 'You mean I don't get the finished product?' 'No, this is a place of dreams. You come and see what it looks like, and I give you the seeds. You plant the seeds. You go home and nurture them and help them to grow and someone else reaps the benefits.' 'Oh,' she said. And she left the store without buying anything."

BOXING

in the box - tidy, controlled, and safe
in the box - everything has its place
but I can't find anything
in the box - I am resourceful
in the box - I see myself
in the box - love has its place and is always there. I see it
in its box
in the box - I am grounded
in the box - God is with me
in the box - is home

out of the box - loose, free, and wild
out of the box - nothing has its place
so I always know where everything is
out of the box - I create
out of the box - I AM myself
out of the box - love can be anywhere
so it is everywhere
out of the box - I fly
out of the box - God is IN me
out of the box - is not home
it is where I live...

Copyright 2012, Brother Briar

Light Through My Window

Three a.m.
Alone on the sofa with my thoughts and a terry blanket from my twelve-year old son. Recommended it as the “best in the house.”

Light through my window.
A view seldom contemplated these days,
yet forged into my memory from another time.
As a boy, being sent to bed earlier than self-prescribed I would peer out from my single bunk trying to make sense of night time mystery.
Tonight, in the wee hours before dawn, my blankie and I cling to each other.
Old hackberry tree limbs reaching, clawing over the neighbor's roof,
Scant leaves of early spring, silhouetted by moonlight giving backdrop to their host's frozen tentacles.

Light through my window.
A white washed pane’s edge reflects the mood of the night outward, vertical and brilliant.
Finding its brightness amidst the darkness and shadow-woes like a silver stake.
Slicing as a beacon behind which I lay; stirring from my crushed feather pillow.
I lie curiously and wonder what lurks beneath the ledge of brick mould upon the grass and leaves, out of sight from my gazing.
Against the foundation like a spy on a mission, perhaps, some furry creature steps or scurries out of my view on their way to harass a nocturnal neighbor.

Light through my window.
Dimly the backdrop casts color now, of pinks and grays.
Is the new day dawning so soon or my eyes giving way to accepting the night's true hue?
The glow from the street lamps from a block away, I believe.
Reflecting toward the cloud base and then mirrored down and picked up by my north facing, constant pane.
Cut.
Glow.
Call those dark ones out of the forest to my window.

Light through my window.
A portal set for me to capture the night, its secreted residents, in wary doses.
And yet, I imagine its force as a destination for that world outside.
The lower pane’s whetted outline still shimmering. Beckoning.
“Come look at the boy inside!”

Light through my window.
My stomach growls. My forehead perspires. Awakened fully from my mind’s carried-away adventures.
The night doesn't sleep nor do I. Only the Sand Man, apparently.
I must forage and act as those reaching limbs in the darkness, craning mine to hover peanut butter and jam.
Feeding my soul and the boy inside - me.

Wack, Wack, Wack! (children's story)

This is a children's book that I wrote a few years back. Now - with narration, original music and stereophonic sound!

Wack, Wack, Wack! (children's story) by bhilligoss

Seek...

"Seek clarity. Not Truth. Let truth find you." BH

Speed of the Sound of Loneliness

Just an noisy laptop demo, but a great John Prine song.

Sound of Lonliness rev 3 by bhilligoss

The Devaluation of Music

"Music feeds the soul, but not the family." Brian Hilligoss, 2010