I am dancing with my partner and my partner is Source Light.
The Light is Here
Why Must I Suffer?
by John Roedel
(I wrote this for you & me)
I fell through a hole in
a church pew yesterday
and landed right
in the thick amber
field of a piece of
stained glass
I asked a red saint
who was stargazing
“why must I suffer?”
without looking
at me
he said
“to know God.”
I didn’t like
that answer
so
I crawled through
a mist of royal triangles
and swam across a sea of ovals
and scaled a pointed cusp
until I found a glowing sinner
and I asked her the
same question
“why must I suffer?”
she placed her
green hand on my
purple cheek
and sung
“Because a broken heart
is easier to share.”
suddenly
my hands became
turquoise doves
and my lips became
yellow vines
and my feet became
fat red rubies
and I became radiant
painted glass of the divine
and I became
reflected light
and everything
I touched glowed
and now my broken
illuminated heart
colors the walls
of every room I walk into
~ john roedel
Herself
by Becky Hemsley
She sat at the back and they said she was shy,
She led from the front and they hated her pride,
They asked her advice and then questioned her guidance,
They branded her loud, then were shocked by her silence,
When she shared no ambition they said it was sad,
So she told them her dreams and they said she was mad,
They told her they’d listen, then covered their ears,
And gave her a hug while they laughed at her fears,
And she listened to all of it thinking she should,
Be the girl they told her to be best as she could,
But one day she asked what was best for herself,
Instead of trying to please everyone else,
So she walked to the forest and stood with the trees,
She heard the wind whisper and dance with the leaves,
She spoke to the willow, the elm and the pine,
And she told them what she’d been told time after time,
She told them she felt she was never enough,
She was either too little or far far too much,
Too loud or too quiet, too fierce or too weak,
Too wise or too foolish, too bold or too meek,
Then she found a small clearing surrounded by firs,
And she stopped…and she heard what the trees said to her,
And she sat there for hours not wanting to leave,
For the forest said nothing, it just let her breathe.
By: Becky Hemsley
One Heart
bubbles out of its sub-atomic origins
emerging out of the caverns of the formless
and sits there humming and thumping my form from its lips
the form of my soul piles up in layers around me,
like children crawling
fingers, hands and feet on top of me,
all this within the great big ball of you
they never tire of this
growing of my soul
as I disappear beneath the leaves
of their tiny, sweet
little brushstrokes so green
One Heart
you are breaking out through a door
pulsing between my shoulder blades
It feels like your lips are poised between them
blowing up my heart bigger and bigger
will I burst?
does that even matter?
there is laughter on the lips of children
their eyes swirl in circles
darting and swerving
like silverfish around me
are they forming my soul?
how can I float so weightless inside your Body?
as I let you blow me up and
toss me into the wind
What was I thinking?
I came here to learn
boundaries.
Back at Home
there was a me
but this me became a
we
so easily
and this we became
The One
so easily
and there was no fear
about not being a
self without a name.
There was no fear flowing
between a me, a we, or
The One.
The feeling of it all
was the same.
There is no word
for this feeling
but now that I’m here
in this body I know that
this feeling is the total absence of fear.
I came here to know this.
You don’t need boundaries at Home
because no one tests them but here
in this body you are separated into
wrongness and rightness,
punished for mis-steps and mis-takes and
shuttled into accepted or discarded.
When you are labeled it is
seemingly irrevocable.
Fear here in this body is
palpable because all the body knows is
birth and death,
these seemingly irrevocable boundaries.
Unfolding into this world showed me
what Home is,
the absence of fear.
Every time I look through my body
to the clouds rumbling the sky,
the winds of Home fill me
and I bless this place
where punishment reigns,
where bounded bodies project their
orphaned aspects onto other bodies
then crucify them.
This world defines my Home
by being the Shadow of it.
This world evokes a searing desire
to carve my way back
to a fearless place where me
becomes we and we become
The One
and this flow bubbles up
boundless love
and here
boundaries have no meaning
It’s All Love
It’s all love
this darkness and this light
When you can see the
darkness
within yourself
you can begin to
forgive it in others
It was no accident
We chose this darkness
to ignite the light
of
who
we
really
are
Circumscension
is a flowering out
an eruption of God-sweat scents
spiraling out from
the inner core is-ness
of your essence
your soul signature is sensed
in the hues of your aura
the moist steam swirling
as your divinity speaks
through you flying out
free like silver stallions
feel this inner pulse seep
into the outer coagulations
of your play-times
can you feel the play-grounds
shifting?
the mutating virus of fear dissolves
as we awaken to
the sprouting of spirit
easing the brutal backdrops
of a bipolar world
the cataracts of separation disintegrate
allowing true sight to form
a gentler world
our laughter erupts
pinging off jubilant stars as we
infuse the God-sweat of kindness
into a new world forming
layer upon layer
from a fetal seed
seeking its expression as Love
The Meeting Place
Spirit is like a balloon.
It seeks to expand itself through
our experience. It seeks to feel itself
through our senses. It seeks to leave itself
in order to return to itself
because it wants to
see itself,
every nook and cranny,
for the very first time.
Nothing ascends or descends.
It just breathes.
Spirit seeks to grow itself
through our senses.
It seeks to grow through us as we
seek to grow our way back to Spirit.
We meet in the unclimbable Spiral between
Creation and Creator
and it is there that we change places.
We circumscend into each other’s arms
between dimension and non-dimension.
There is only the swirl of our dance
finding its still-point in union.
There is no ascension. No descent.
Here we join in the Meeting Place
between Spirit and Flesh.
Life After Birth: a Conversation
I wonder if my twin sister and I had a similar conversation in the womb?
Life After Birth Parable – Wayne Dyer
In a mother’s womb were two babies. One asked the other: “Do you believe in life after delivery?” The other replied, “Why, of course. There has to be something after delivery. Maybe we are here to prepare ourselves for what we will be later.”
“Nonsense” said the first. “There is no life after delivery. What kind of life would that be?”
The second said, “I don’t know, but there will be more light than here. Maybe we will walk with our legs and eat from our mouths. Maybe we will have other senses that we can’t understand now.”
The first replied, “That is absurd. Walking is impossible. And eating with our mouths? Ridiculous! The umbilical cord supplies nutrition and everything we need. But the umbilical cord is so short. Life after delivery is to be logically excluded.”
The second insisted, “Well I think there is something and maybe it’s different than it is here. Maybe we won’t need this physical cord anymore.”
The first replied, “Nonsense. And moreover if there is life, then why has no one has ever come back from there? Delivery is the end of life, and in the after-delivery there is nothing but darkness and silence and oblivion. It takes us nowhere.”
“Well, I don’t know,” said the second, “but certainly we will meet Mother and she will take care of us.”
The first replied “Mother? You actually believe in Mother? That’s laughable. If Mother exists then where is She now?”
The second said, “She is all around us. We are surrounded by her. We are of Her. It is in Her that we live. Without Her this world would not and could not exist.”
Said the first: “Well I don’t see Her, so it is only logical that She doesn’t exist.”
To which the second replied, “Sometimes, when you’re in silence and you focus and you really listen, you can perceive Her presence, and you can hear Her loving voice, calling down from above.”
Angels in the Trees
By John Roedel
-it happened again this morning – the feeling came back – it woke me up at dawn – it wasn’t a dream – it was so very real – so real
– I swear
– it was very subtle at first
– but the feeling grew – and grew – and grew
– suddenly every atom inside of me was on fire
– and my soul was scratching on my skin
– and I couldn’t ignore it anymore
– I had no choice – had to answer it
– the call
– the invitational into mystery
– the lure of the divine
– the sacred song of creation
At first was the gentlest of tugs deep inside of me. Like my heart was a kite and something was carefully pulling on its strings to get me stand up from my chair and walk outside.
I didn’t know where I was being pulled to.
I just knew I had to follow the invisible thread that was towing me outside under the untamed sun.
And as soon as my bare feet hit the grass I knew what was happening- it was clear why I was being drawn outside.
– I was being asked to be a witness.
– A witness to a miracle.
– A miracle that remade me.
I’ll do my best to explain. Please take my hand so it will stop shaking. I need you to believe me.
There I was outside.
I was watching these little angels who were disguised as golden beams of Easter sunlight while they danced through the treetops.
They were floating from elm to elm and were kissing each branch to wake them up.
I watched it happen. I swear.
With their voices of dawn these glowing angels whispered to the heart of each tree the same exact poem –
“Winter has fallen. The night has passed. Everything that died is coming back. Come awake. Come awake. Let me swirl through your outstretched arms. Feel my embrace of heat and hope. Please, come back. We need you.”
The morning lights serenaded each tree. Every single tree had their intimate moment with first light. No tree was forgotten by the growing dawn.
It was part formal ritual.
And part wild bonfire dance.
Yet all divine.
Suddenly I could hear it.
The trees began to creak and groan back to life. Their bark hardened. The buds pushed through.
Their branches stiffened. Their songbirds returned.
One burst of light
touching a tree
and everything came back to life.
That’s when I started to weep. No, not cry. Weep.
I had made a breakthrough as I stood with naked toes on my front lawn
The relationship between the light and trees and their masterclass on the subject of resurrection.
I’m so sorry that
I never noticed
It sooner.
It was complete magic
– and miracle
– and mystery
I finally decided
that God must be real
because there were
so many angels
playing in
the all of the trees.
During this, our springtime of coming back to ourselves,
you might find me staring into the smalls gaps
between the branches of a tree.
Don’t fret.
I’m just falling in love
with the whisper that a lonely
tree makes when it feels
love again.
Now I’m waiting for my turn
to feel one single burst of light – of my own
– on my face
because because because
I know that
it will change everything.
I am holding my breath
so I can hear the dancing angels
of burning holy light to reach me
– to bathe me – to swaddle me
– to whisper their ancient poem to me:
“Winter has fallen. The night has passed. Everything that died is coming back. Come awake. Come awake. Let me swirl through your outstretched arms. Feel my embrace of heat and hope. Please, come back. We need you.”
I can feel it right now -the pull inside of me
-the tug – the invitation into glory – it’s happening. My new life has begun.
And even though I’m inside here with you now. A part of me outside again. On the front lawn. In my bare feet. Surrounded by raw sunlight.
I’m witnessing another miracle.
But this time the miracle isn’t for the trees.
It’s for me.
The light envelops me.
The songbirds return.
-my winter has fallen – my dark night has passed
– everything that died in me is reborn – I’m awake.
Please believe me
there are angels
in the trees.
I swear.
~ john roedel
WE GROW GOD 