Seldom thoughts ended, prayer now never stops
A chasm has been bridged between two hilltops
Roots have shot skyward to breathe its crisp air
Branches of the vine, reached out to everywhere

Seldom tears, constantly stream well past agony
Absorbing so little, cannot quell the abundancy
Divinity’s touch, calm a soul in such deep pain
Life goes on, this world, a temporary domain

Seldom ego, has found it is consumed in flame
Humility embraced, a righteousness reclaimed
A place to walk, a promised beauty surrounds
Reality says, I have arrived on sacred grounds

Seldom knew Eucharist, intensifies the hunger
Quieted quest for personally needed adventure
Energy focuses on the needs of many lost souls
They desire filling with holiness that consoles

Seldom illuminations, call wisdom’s normalcy
Penetrating layers, mercy expands outwardly
Awareness heightened, encompassed creation
No longer held, reason gives it away in action

Seldom has turned itself around now frequently
Life is simplified as love replaces believability
Light beams flare and arch to touch worthiness
Drawing strength from grace burning in fullness

Seldom tranquil is all it has become, constant joy
Powerful shield that nothing manmade can destroy
Yet all can enter, it has no enemies, all are friend
Crowds have gathered, perhaps they comprehend

Seldom has left with a seldomness not yet stressed
A soul being hardened for a journey of the blessed
Unknown territory has not become solid ground
What remains set to challenge, few seldom found


I have only recently realized that many things in my life have moved from having little weight to being very important. Events and thoughts that used to happen only once in a while now seem to be frequent. The beauty of these movements seem to be everywhere. I am beginning to perceive another conversion around the corner. Unfortunately, among all this beauty I have uncovered something haunting that remains to do. I know what it is and I know I am not quite ready for its onslaught.  This poem is my formal way of deciding I will not hide from it.

For further reflection: Matthew 5

Horns of Hattin


But a shoot shall sprout from the stump of Jesse, and from his roots a bud shall blossom. Isaiah 11:1.  Imagine Jesus speaking to the crowds between the Horns of Hattin. As the Beatitudes flow from his thoughts they ascend with Him to greater and greater heights and difficulty.