Let’s Play

Play along with Me,
just for a bit.

Imagine You Are
a Bright Little Piece
of the Love and
Light and Laughter
That Is
All That Is.

Call This You
Your Soul –
I know,
I’m hardly the first –
But Play With Me.

By the Way,
Your Soul Is
Perfect.

Now,
have Your Soul
get your Body –
Fat and Wrinkles and Scars
and All,
It’s Just a Body –
Out of Your Chair.

It’s Your Costume
for the Scene
We’re going to
Create.

Wherever You Are,
Greet the Other Players
in the Scene
As If
You’re Playing the Scene
with their Souls.

In My Scene,
I told the Soul
at the Front Desk,
in the Hotel
Where We’re Staying,
that My Life
finally Had Meaning
Now that My Cup
was Full of
the Free Coffee.

He Laughed,
I Love Him.

I haven’t had
This Much Fun
In a Long While.

I should Make
a Habit of It.

(Photo from UnSplash)

Here’s a Daydream for You

Our Older Brother,
Jesus,
Is Quite The Storyteller,

when He Isn’t
Stripping His Belt off and Chasing
Religious Con Men Out of their Temples,
or Holding Toddlers in His Lap
so They can Braid Dandelions into His Beard.

One of My Favorites
Is the One About the Dad
Who Caves In When
His Snark of a Son Demands
His Share of Dad’s Estate Before
Dad has even Kicked the Bucket.

Sonny Boy then Jets off to
The Big City,
Where He Spends His Cash on
Hookers and Strip Bars.

The Kid ends up Slopping Hogs,
for Minimum Wage, Until
Desperate,
He Hitchhikes Toward Home,
Hoping Dad will Let Him
Sleep In the Barn.

But Dad Won’t Have It,
Drives Out to Where
Someone Saw the Kid,
Leaps from His Car,
Eyes Brimming,
Hugs the Boy and
Covers His Cheeks with Kisses.

Wait, there’s More:

Daddy Hires the Boy’s Favorite Band
and Throws a Dinner Party
for The Kid
at The Best Restaurant In Town.

At One Point
He Whispers In The Kid’s Ear,
“By the Way,
I Still Have You In My Will.”

Here’s a Daydream for You:

Jesus Takes You
Out for Breakfast,
Tells The Story,
and Says To You,

“That’s How Much
You Are Loved.

“How About
You Start Loving Yourself
As Much?”

(Photo by Kris Tian; UnSplash)

There Are No Diplomas

I’ve got a Bone to Pick
with the Dogma Trainers
Who Insist

The Creator
Set This Place Up
as a Boarding School,

With Classes in
Worship and Obedience
to Commandments
Cast In Stone,

and Instructors
in Disciplines
Written in Ancient Tongues
and Printed in
Leatherbound Libraries,

With Grades to Divide
The Sheep from The Goats,
Recorded in Books of
Life and Death,
to Make Judgments
That Last to
Eternity and Beyond.

What If
This Cosmos
Was Meant to Be
a Playground of
Choose Your Adventure,
for Light Beings
Who Shimmered
Into a Trillion Sunbeams,

from a Blazing Love
Whose Only Desire Is to
Experience Adoration of
All That Is?

But Light Loves to
Play in The Dark,
Risking Fear of
What Can’t Be Seen,

For the Joy of The Mystery,
the Ecstasy of Creativity.

But You Need Not Fear.

There are Classes in
Every Art of Illumination,
Every Language of Laughter,
Every Sport of Love
Wrestling Fear Into an Embrace of
Overcoming and Sanguine Submission.

You Cannot Fail.

Your Divinity
Will Not Be Graded.
There Are No Diplomas.

Only The Next Adventure.

Metaphor Maintenance

It May Be Time
to Tuneup Your
Metaphors,

Or even Toss
a Few of Them.

Let’s Start with
The Top Shelf,
Metaphorically Speaking:

If You’re a Believer
in Such Things,
What Is
The Kingdom of Heaven
Like?

(It Is Reported that
Jesus was a Fan of
Such Inquiries.)

First, Is It Truly
Like a Kingdom,
with Royalty and
Kneeling and Bowing?

Or Maybe It’s Like
a Theocracy,
with Laws and Obedience and
Consequences for Disobedience.

Or Like a Religion,
(from the Latin, “religare,”
meaning “to bind,”)

Or an Eternal Hierarchy,
with Ascended Masters.

But What If …

That Love Light that Is
Diffracted Into a Trillion Fractals,
a Rainbow of Light Beings,

Is More Like
a Family of Footloose Afficiandos
of the Affectionate Love Arts,
Who Love to Cover Fear
with Murals of Kindness and
Its Kinfolk of Joy?

Goofy Uncles and Antic Aunties,
Who Grin and
Poke Each Other In the Ribs
When You Test Fly
One of Your Wild Wonderings,
Who Rush to Embrace You
When You Stage
One of Your Messy Meltdowns.

What If the Hereafter,
When It Infiltrates
the Here and Now,
Is More Like Your Family
On Its Best Day
Dream?

Sultans of Separation

Why have We Let
the Experts at
Damned Dichotomy –
Heaven or Hell,
Saved or Lost –
Draw the Maps and
Write the Instruction Manuals,
Compose the Curricula and
Cut the Paychecks?

Their Lexicon is Endless:

Good or Evil,
God or Satan,
Win or Lose,
Right or Wrong.

The Sultans of Separation.

Imagining in Nightmares
of Being

Something Other than
Divine.

As If
That Could Ever
Be.

They’ve Dressed Fear
In a Bogeyman’s Mask.

Perhaps It’s Time to
Set a Trap of
Undiluted Love,

Bait It with Joy,

from Which Fear
Cannot Escape.

Adopt Separation
Into the Family and
Change Its Name to
Laughter.

(Photo by Brooke Cagle; UnSplash)

Kids

It’s been Written
that Jesus Said

“Let Those Kids Loose
so They can Come Here and
Be With Me.
After All,
They’re What Heaven
Is All About.”

It’s more Formal
when the King James Posse
Translated It,
But Kids are Kids.

His Apostolic Sidekicks
had been Keeping
The Little Ones
at a Distance,
Imagining They
Would Bother Him.

Instead He Said,
“Pay Attention, Guys,
These are Your
Role Models.”

Consider That.
Contemplate It.
Meditate On It.

We’ve Imagined
Temples and
Priesthoods and
Nunneries and
Leatherbound Libraries,

When The Man,
Himself,
Asks Us to
Turn Loose
The Child
In Us.

To Play,
To Laugh and
Expect To See Magic and
Believe We’ll Be
Cared For.

Was It Just a Metaphor
that I’ve Stretched?

When He Said
To Become
As a Child

Is a Must?

(Photo by Robert Collins; UnSplash)

Done

I Am so Done
with Paying Attention
to The High Priests
of Preaching
The Gospel of
the Practice of
Practice,

Until You
Get It Right
and Your Record Book
Reflects Your Rigor,
But doesn’t
Reveal Your Dismay
When You Inevitably
Fall Short

In Your Righteous
Quest To Be
Better than
You Are.

To Be
Like Jesus?

If The Maker
had That in Mind,
Why Not Roll Out
Eight Billion
Perfect Models
from a Mold?

Or Maybe
The Maker
Wanted to Start
a Colony of Artists,

Who Don’t Keep Records,
Whose Joy Is In
Making More Art,
Where the
Only Measure
Is How Much
Fear
Can Be Overwhelmed
By Original Works
of Love.

(Photo by Lin Renais; UnSplash)

The Traveler’s Warranty

So Many of Us
were Taught that
Life is like a
University –
Hope You got into
a Good One.

Classes and
Homework and
Exams and
Grading on a Curve.

To Hear Them
Tell It, or
Read Their
Catalogues,

Some of These
Institutions
are Quite
Unforgiving
Toward Those
Who Fail
Their Final Exam.

There could Be
Fire and Brimstone.

Hell to Pay.

But What If

Life Is
More like a
Cruise Ship.

You can even
Choose Your Cruise,
Perhaps Take
More than One!

If You’re
The Adventurous Type
You Can Challenge
Your Self
to the Extreme:

Sidetrips that will
Curl Your Hair,
if not Your Toes.

Be Sure to
Mix It Up a Little,
Some Trips to
Tropical Treasure Islands or
Mountaintops with
Voluptuous Views.

Just Know This:

There’s a Divine
Traveler’s Warranty
That You’ll
Be Brought Home,
Safe and Sound.

You’re One of
The Beloved.

(Photo by Jono Hirst; UnSplash)