Prophet Passages

canyon  photo pin photo credit a href=httpwww.flickr.comphotos75683070@N0070611346Near Spider Rock, Canyon de Chelly National Monument near Chinle, Navajo Nation, Arizonaa via a href=httpphotopin.comphotopina a hr

The Exile Symbolized: Ezekiel 12:1-16

This mime of the prophet Exekiel has an urgent message for us today.  Our world seems to be in spiritual exile.  Go forth.

 

The Call

Prophet  Seers Face East
Feet firmly planted in soulplace.

Blessing bags shouldered,
They chafe at the bit, ears tuned
To catch astral whispers riding
The downdrafts of possibility.

Prophet  Seers Face East
Spirit nipps at their heels
Her sedulous bay echoes
Through labyrinthine chasms
Of exile driving them forth.

NOW.
The call catches up.
Soulplace delivers seasoned exiles
Whose eyes are fixed ever east.

© rita h kowats 2016

 

photo credit a href=httpwww.flickr.comphotos75683070@N0070611346Near Spider Rock, Canyon de Chelly National Monument near Chinle, Navajo Nation, Arizonaa via a href=httpphotopin.comphotopina a href=httpscreativecommons.orglicensesby-sa2.0(license)a

 

 

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The Sound of Sabers Rattling

I published this poem one year ago as a way to deal with my sorrow and fear over our increasingly hate-filled world.  With a fresh onslaught of hatred being spewed out on innocent Moslem American citizens after the attack in San Bernardino I place my hope on paying attention.  May we all slow down and listen to what is being said and felt in the spaces between the words.  May we give voice to trust and love as we oppose injustice.

 

Continuous War Sabers

Feather and Shadow

hope is a thing with feathers

Canada geese cast
Quilt-like shadows
On the now-rumpled lake,
Announcing Autumn’s Advent.

My soul
Flys with the geese,
Her feathers borne
On the breath of God
Rescued for the moment
From shadows of
War.  Hate.  Greed.

Alleluia!

This moment of ecstasy was shattered by the loud, strident voices of three homeless men who arrived at the lake eager to party.  Imagine, life getting in the way of spiritual revelry!  All efforts to keep my feathers flying failed, so I continued on my walk.  Once disappointment faded, I realized that this is life: feather and shadow.  I resolved to use these gifted moments of flight to prepare for battle with the shadows of injustice.

Thanks to my soul-sisters, Emily Dickinson and Hildegard of Bingen, for the loan of their sacred images of hope and feather.