Better than any argument is to rise at dawn and pick dew-wet berries in a cup. ~Wendell Berry

Friday, October 14, 2011

Ode To Anxiety

Stretched too thin
  Skin and bone are leather
    Gift wrapping stone
       A smile too tight a pulled
          Rubber band ready to fight
             With words bitter and strong
                Like coffee brewing since the
                   Day before yesterday. The
                       Rungs on the ladder of my
                           Spine are broken from the
                              Pressure of this giant
                                 Climbing up to my brain
                                    Making it ache making a
                                        Stain on my feelings I
                                          Just can’t bleach out.

Monday, August 29, 2011

The Pearl

The furies follow me hungry
for my hope and You
Seem to thinks it funny that
I’ve invested my fortune
In a treasure that
Just won’t be found.

I’ve searched within and without
For that pearl of great price
Willing to pay with my soul.
Really, if You wanted me to find it
You might have buried it shallow and shining
So my blindish eyes would have a chance
At the peace You proclaim passes all understanding.

Well I understand plenty
And I have had enough of the secrets
Within your book, the words will not open
For me is there a magic phrase
An unknown prayer to utter that will let
Me into Your cave of riches?

Yes. I know I hail You with heresy
And expect You to bestow hope
To revive my fainting faith. What I understand
To You is nonsense. If I must be a fool make
Me a fool for Your extravagant love
Let me know it so brutally that it
Crushes all doubt, all despondency, all despair.


Tuesday, April 19, 2011

My name is Jennifer Gray and I am a Co-dependant.

Your breeze blows warm when it wants to.
Cold when you’re consciously cruel.

Your leaves are waving in that wind, I am swaying in
Their rhythm. When I close my eyes I can feel you breathe
See your passion seethe
While I fall asleep and dream you want your night to be over.

My words fall fresh while I shed your tears
Feel for you the hot flush of released despair.

You claim you’re an addiction, a bad habit to break.
So if I breathe you in and regret it, only my life is at stake?

When did love become a drug? A bliss from which to recover?
It seems yours is the only heart worth your time to discover.

Do you think my eyes are bound when you look
At me the way that you do (that look reflects the eyes of many saviors)…all I know is that I want to see you through…

Sometimes light is more painful that darkness
Truth more deceptive than lies.
Beauty can put nails in your heart, create longings
No mask can disguise.

Close your eyes quickly now sing softly of your sorrow
Sift through seasons of darkness and discover
Sounds of joy that stand in bold relief
Against the back-drop of your grief and be at peace…
Sleep deep… dawn will come if you let her.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

G. MacDonald's Beech Tree

Love is the song I sing to send you
you to sleep, sink your head in my lap
and dream of me. Put away
your smoking guns and rest from the best of reason.
Slip into mystery while I
whisper words of righteousness in rhymes
that will make your old-soul feel young and
sublime with beauty.
I am wide awake and will guard your mind from evil
with Orion's sword and September's moon
as a shield. Let weariness slide in and
leave you pale, breathing evenly, pain evanescent.
Linger there long, living in a faerie-tale with me.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

"Only the shallow know themselves.” Oscar Wilde

So it seems God is never done unraveling. Which is exasperating. Think about how easy it is to get things messed up in knots. I tried crocheting once. Totally stressful. Not peaceful at all. I could never get my yarn to be where I wanted it to be. Most of my necklaces are unusable because I need to sit down and make a project of untangling them.

Unraveling knots is a complete pain. It’s tedious, eye straining and frustrating. Sometimes its just not worth the effort.

Having and caring for children reveals things about oneself that are unfathomable before they come into the world. I am not talking about mere selfishness. Yes, of course one realizes that one is selfish after having kids. Clearly having little people depend on you for every basic need will reveal impatience and self-absorption. I am talking about deep deep deep characteristics that are knotted and complicated and when loosed feel akin to an earthquake. And stupid. Yes! Stupid. I want to just wave it all away as thirty-something middle- class angst but I consider myself a spiritual(ish) person and my spirituality keeps hitting this stupid wall of stupid knots. So I have to at least validate them by calling them real.

For example. I have always thought myself as a laid-back person; accommodating and easy to please. Ha! It turns out that actually I have control issues bordering on neurotic. Before I had kids I could indulge myself in them to a degree that resembled religious rituals. Personal hygiene, food, legal substances, and relationships all had rules and regulations. If I did not obey these rules self-flagellation would begin. Shame would colour my days until I made things right.

I know! Sounds OCD. I honestly just thought that it was how life is lived. But here's the thing. I love my children more than myself. So I don't have time for these rituals. I don't have the brain space or the energy to invest in them anymore. But I don't know how to live without them either. It’s scary to live without them because they are my source of worth and accomplishment. I don't know how to organize my day without all these rules and regulations that only include me, not the two little people waiting for their breakfast and their hair to be brushed.

So I have this vacuum now. In the place of these rituals I have a sense of chaos and need. I can't think straight. I am insecure & unregulated. Like I am perpetually in a high school cafeteria searching for a place to sit. And I am naked. It is particularly obvious to me that I am not adjusting well after I spend time with a group of women friends. It used to be a necessity for me to play a particular role with people. My image and appearance and persona were practiced and intentional. What's funny is that three years ago I would have insisted that I was completely authentic and unguarded. Without the carefully cultivated image I feel spastic and eccentric.

How do I reorganize and redefine thirty-six years of structure? I don't want my babes dealing with my neurosis. That would be sad.

So I can only assume that this unraveling is God's work. I think I must see it as a blessing. If He can show me a healthier way of living and being there will be less of a risk that my babes will inherit my dysfunctional legacies- directly or indirectly.

I have a feeling life will be lighter and clearer if I am open to this untangling. Maybe I will feel less anxiety. Maybe I will sleep better. Watch less TV. Have deeper faith. Care more about others than how I am perceived. There's every reason to hope.

"...Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again,
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me." -John Donne












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Friday, January 21, 2011

grace on my tongue

Anxious bored and brittle
Lips cracked with darkling doubts
Ushered through with the dusty
Air of an ancient tomb.

Jesus wept, I remembered
So my thoughts crackled with
Hope pushing through my craven
Brain and cloven hoof.

If he can cry grace is real
And I will feel His tears dampen
My tongue so I can cry out
“Light conquers darkness after all!”

Maybe all that’s bright in me will
Fight and walk through the shadows
To disperse their clinging fears and
Shine like the morning star.