Sailing On

                

"All my life I have lived in a kind of haste and darkness of desire , ambition , accomplishment. Now the bird is singing , but not anymore of this world. And something inside myself is flutter and leaping , is trying to type it down , in lumped-up language , in outcry , in patience, in music , in a snow-white book."

 - Mary Oliver
__________________________________
Sailing On

Would any leg of the passage have been different

If the pilgrim sailor was aware of what lie ahead?

Was he immune or ignorant

To the epic canon of a humble ancient troubadour poet?

Did charting a course really matter?

Was not the grand sojourn of Odysseus

Protected by divine interventions?

“Keep your the face turned to the wind”

whispered that constant unknown spirit companion.

“Now is the perpetual baptism.

All life is sacred all ways.”

Consecrated singers and poets

Mystically channel the flow of that same spirit’s voice

Discerning the perfect words and melodies

Nourishing the souls of thirsting pilgrim sailors.

Coincidences are not what they seem.

Even the wild geese know when to get out

And when and how to return home.

That gentle flame within is really a lantern to the truth.

No treasure is hidden,

It has always been right where they said it would be.

Sometimes it takes a little longer for some

To realize that peace is more

than a word or windshield sticker.

“Always afraid of losing sight

That which is great is not.”

The once wanderer sings

“Temporary rainbows only lead to what you got.

Dreams of dreaming, closing your eyes and see the way”

Even the little innocents know when to hold on and let go

Maybe they listen more closely

To that angel, their all-loving lifetime guardian .

The wisdom of old salts about managing storms

Instruct to let go and your vessel will upright herself

Echoes of Isaiah’s words would rain down

Consoling one more time

The pilgrim sailed on.

      - JF Sobecki

___________________________________________________

Sail On- Mary Black

 

https://youtu.be/zv113_HGT60

Sailed my whole life on bloodied seas
Sail on through the storm
Laughed in hard times, cried in easy
Taking it all back home
Walked through storms in shadowed valleys
(Sail on etc)
Asking questions that had no answers
(Taking it all etc)
Seen loved ones born, seen loved ones dying
Rocked with laughter, I've shook with crying
Been down and out, been high and mighty
Been a peacemaker, been a fighter
Sail on, Sail on
Sail on
Sail on, Sail on
Only a fool breaks their heart
For what has gone
Known real love and the joy of giving
Saw it die but I kept on living
Lived with love and lived without it
Still believe and I'll never doubt it
Sail on, Sail on
The hour of sorrow is the herald
Of the hope that is the dawn
Sail on, Sail on
Going home to where
I truly do belong
Sail on, Sail on
Don't waste your time in asking
Where the time you spent has gone
Sail on, Sail on
Only a fool breaks their heart
For what has gone

·        

The  Island – Paul Brady

https://youtu.be/CD4eS2Xb6Ls

The Island

They say the skies of Lebanon are burning.
Those mighty cedars bleeding in the heat. 
They're showing pictures on the television. 
Women and children dying in the street 
And we're still at it in our own place. 
Still trying to reach the future through the past. 
Still trying to carve tomorrow from a tombstone... 

But Hey! Don't listen to me!.
This wasn't meant to be no sad song. 
We've heard too much of that before. 
Right now I only want to be here with you. 
Till the morning dew comes falling. 
I want to take you to the island. 
And trace your footprints in the sand. 
And in the evening when the sun goes down 
We'll make love to the sound of the ocean 

They're raising banners over by the markets 
Whitewashing slogans on the shipyard walls 
Witchdoctors praying for a mighty showdown 
No way our holy flag is gonna fall 
Up here we sacrifice our children 
To feed the worn-out dreams of yesterday 
And teach them dying will lead us into glory... 

Now I know us plain folks don't see all the story. 
And I know this peace and love's just copping out. 
And I guess these young boys dying in the ditches. 
Is just what being free is all about. 
And how this twisted wreckage down on main street. 
Will bring us all together in the end. 
And we'll go marching down the road to freedom.... 
Freedom

   - P. Brady

For Quinn and Caroline

Speaking with the Angel  - R. Sexsmith

https://youtu.be/XF94CO29YJg

Speaking With the Angel

He don't know how to lie or undermine you
He don't know how to steal
How to deal or deceive
So leave him alone
Set him free
Cause he's speaking with the angel
Speaking with the angel that only he can see
You'd say he's so helpless
But what about you?
You don't pull the string
Don't you know anything?
Leave him alone, let him be
Cause he's speaking with the angel
Speaking with the angel that only he can see 

Would you teach him 'bout heaven?
Would you show him how to love the earth?
Would you poison him with prejudice 
From the moment of his birth?

He in the name of love
He in the blood of lamb
He that never lays blame
He don't even know his name
So leave him alone
Set him free
Cause he's speaking with the angel
Speaking with the angel (the very one)
That spoke to you and me
Oh do you remember?

- R. Sexsmith

¹⁰ As the rain and the snow
    come down from heaven,
and do not return to it
    without watering the earth
and making it bud and flourish,
    so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater,
¹¹ so is my word that goes out from my mouth:
    It will not return to me empty,
but will accomplish what I desire
    and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.

 

             - Isaiah 55:10-11 

THE BELL AND THE BLACKBIRD

The sound of a bell

Still reverberating,

or a blackbird calling

from a corner of the field,

asking you to wake

into this life,

or inviting you deeper

into the one that waits.

Either way

takes courage,

either way wants you

to be nothing

but that self that

is no self at all,

wants you to walk

to the place

where you find

you already know

how to give

every last thing

away.

The approach

that is also

the meeting

itself,

without any 

meeting 

at all.

That radiance

you have always 

carried with you

as you walk

both alone

and completely

accompanied

in friendship

by every corner

of the world

crying 

Allelujah.

- David Whyte

Wild Geese – M. Oliver

https://youtu.be/lv_4xmh_WtE

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good
You do not have to walk on your knee
for a hundred mile through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair , yours , and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile  the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are , no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting-
over and over announcing your place
In the family of things.

 - Mary Oliver

Just one more song for the road…..

Ain’t No Man – Avett Brothers

 

https://youtu.be/zz0JXbwNUk8

“One day I will find the right words and they will be simple”

        - Jack Kerouac

“The only truth is music”

       - Jack Kerouac

 

Copyright All Rights Reserved 2018 JF Sobecki LLC

Lost and Found: The Journey to the Authentic

“A tree gives Glory to God by being a tree. For being what God means it to be it is obeying Him .It consents, so to speak, to His creative love. It is expressing an idea, which is in God and is not distinct from the essence of God, and therefore a tree imitates God by being a tree.

The more a tree is like itself, the more it is like Him. If it tried to be something else which it was never intended to be, it would be less like God and therefore would give him less glory.”

-       Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation

“As the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater, so shall my word be that goes forth from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and prosper in the thing for which I sent it. “

-       Isaiah 55: 10-11

 

So there they were, the three almost wise men, gathered for their ritual communion.

“Peace be with you.”

“Good to see you.”

“Good to be seen.”

The requisite reports on the status of offspring and the supersonic unbridled passage of the collective and idiosyncratic existences are swiftly shifted. Transitions and potential transformations, discerning the Odyssean passages of the pilgrimages of self identity and work evolved as the unspoken focal points for the theme of this concelebration.

What was that road not taken? Was it fear? 

“What would you be doing if you had the choice?

The new Irish writer of the purple sage questioned.

Passion, talent, and  desire are surfaced as overriding factors. Filling up the siloes meant nothing as the trio understood that gifts were given to be nurtured and used…life would take care of itself. It was an easy conclusion since a semblance of faith fueled their fire.

The survey said

-       Two for music

-       Two for writing, (the senior one stuck to his split decision and would acquiesce to the flip of a coin if necessary. However, if time permitted sailing and baseball would have made what his father called the proverbial  “jack of all trades” list. )

Regret  was not a condition explored. Their journeys, a series of accidental vocational circumstances, had brought them together on the way to their Emmaus. Each as a Sherpa, mentor and wizard –in-training behind the curtain, they had encouraged other pilgrims to discover the universe within and without. Yet, their own sanctified gifts that had been dormant in the recesses of their souls were insistent on making way to the surface and great light. Bliss does not sleep.

The older one shared

“The encouragement by a member of the band helped me become a channel for words from some unknown spiritual spring and placing them in some type of pre-ordained construct. This same companion immersed me in re-baptismal font of  the ineffable sacred joy of filling the silence by creating music. “

He continued with a secret smile

“ These transformational resuscitated creative experiences are blessings and when I am channeling them as all sense of time is lost. However, in this losing I have found my self again. “

He didn’t say, “ ’ where your heart is there is you treasure.’  That is the heart of the matter, isn’t it?” They all knew the truth.

As they all readied themselves to depart their temporary safe harbor to resume their own passages the wind whispered dialog of a pair of real wizard voices in the wilderness

BILL MOYERS:” Do you ever have the sense of... being helped by hidden hands? “

JOSEPH CAMPBELL: “All the time. It is miraculous. I even have a superstition that has grown on me as a result of invisible hands coming all the time - namely, that if you do follow your bliss you put yourself on a kind of track that has been there all the while, waiting for you, and the life that you ought to be living is the one you are living. When you can see that, you begin to meet people who are in your field of bliss, and they open doors to you. I say, follow your bliss and don't be afraid, and doors will open where you didn't know they were going to be. “

It begins to rain again and the three hug….

“Peace be with you”

“Until next time”

“I pray there will be a next time”

and somehow they know whatever path they chose it will be the right road .Nothing had changed.

                                                                          When I write my book

                                                      EVERYDAY I WRITE THE BOOK

                                                                     Paperback writer

---------------------------

By learning you will teach;
by teaching you will understand.
 - Latin Proverb

“I write to discover what I know.”
- Flannery O’Connor

Music in the soul can be heard by the universe.
- Lao Tsu

After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music.
- Aldous Huxley

“Though much is taken, much abides; and though We are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are; One equal temper of heroic hearts, Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

 – (Ulysses, Alfred, Lord Tennyson)           

"If you write for God, you will reach many men and bring them joy.

If you write for men, you may make some money and you may give someone a little joy and you may make noise in the world, for a little while.

If you write only for yourself, you can read what you yourself have written and after ten minutes you will be so disgusted, you will wish that you were dead."

   - Thomas Merton

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

    - Robert Frost












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