The Inspiration:
What is it that plants a secret seed
that is quietly nourished with love
as it begins to flourish
becoming what one is intended to be?
Sometimes it is just a wink of the universe
allowing you to let go - recognizing this is not a coincidence or accident.
The Writing:
The Continuing Contemplations on Cosmic Coincidences P 2
(in gratitude to a friend and JDS's Catcher)
Waiting desperados benefit from mystical interventions
if they open the doors that have been placed before them
or trust in the mystical hickory wind that fuels the flame
quietly burning within waiting to be gifted somehow
someday , somewhere by someone or some thing.
Who is really ever awake and completely mindful,
letting go and trusting that what is , the answer and
the sacred grail , the serenity and what is
one's true essence and purpose?
Who would have surmised that fateful moment
when a member of a the refugee's entourage
slipped him a brown paper bag...
with a torn covered dog eared volume
carefully and securely wrapped in newspaper.
This book filled with, what would become ,
the sacred seeds influencing everything
the vagabond pilgrim would become.
Anyways , there was that black robed phony pedagogue,
playing the part of the unwilling catalyst,
catching the youthful outlaw reading his new treasure
as this teacher attempted to communicate
what makes literature great, applying
the infamous scale of Dr. J. Evans Prichard ,PH.D.
for understanding poetry to literature.
The silent postulants dutifully scribbled illegible notes
as the second tier inquisitor wrestled the book
from the lost boy believing
the youthful soul would be rescued
from the fires of eternal inferno.
As the last school bell rang louder than
the aged cathedral down the road ,
the book returned by the teacher instructing
the lost young man to
"Find a good book to read."
The young desperado's
deliberate forever formation finally
opened his spirit to accepting
how his journey was an attempt
to become a "catcher" saving
cliff jumping children of all sizes and ages.
A teacher , counselor , consultant , coach ,
spiritual guide , part time poet and writer
were a few roles where he immersed
what would become his authentic self.
Who knew? Who would have guessed
that book's pages would flourish like an Easter flower?
The oft absent minded seeker would never give
a second thought to sitting down
scribbling ideas and thought dreams
in spiral notebooks. Some of the words
took the shape of what he labeled poems.
There were letters upon letters unsent
to a friends, a lover and ghosts .
"I'll be locked away if anyone discovers these
notebooks and journals ," he worried, but kept writing
because he could . The worry evaporated
about concern for acceptance .
He would write because he could.
However, this perpetual iconoclast concern
continued about
"telling anybody anything" afraid he
might start missing everybody.
"It's worth the risk...isn't it?", he reflected.
Illuminations arrive when they choose,
at the least expected time - don't they?
On the new dawn for a new day a metamorphosis
blossomed that last day of a class in literature,
with the pilgrim now as teacher, as he
caught the eye of a wandering apprentice
standing with folded hands as if in prayer
over his heart - smiling.
- JF Sobecki
------------
Poems and such:
"Poetry is an act of peace.
Peace goes into the making of a poet
as flour goes into the making of bread."
- Pablo Neruda
"Dear Whit (W.Burnett),
So to answer your question you asked years ago.
Yes, I am willing to write the rest of my life
and get nothing in return.
Sincerely yours, JD Salinger"
Poem
"Geese appear high over us, pass and the sky closes.
Abandon, as in love or sleep , holds them to their
way, clear in the ancient faith: what we need is here.
And we pray , not for new earth or heaven, but to be
quiet in heart , and in eye, clear.
What we need is here,"
- Wendell Berry
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 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.
IS 55: 10 - 11
"We have a choice of two identities: the
external mask which seems to be real ...and
the hidden , inner person who seems to us to
be nothing, but who can give hinself
externally to the truth which he subsists,,,
A tree gives glory to the divine by being a tree. For
in being what the Divine means it to be it is obeying
( the Divine). It 'consents',so to speak, to
(the Divine's) creative love. It is expressing
an idea this is in the Divine and which
is not distinct from the Divine essence, and therefore
a tree imitates the divine by being a tree."
- Thomas Merton, New Seeds on Contemplation
Understanding Poetry (?) - Dead Poets Society
VIDEO
https://youtu.be/8x0COtH4Vrw?si=FurYBMTiDroNNSSn
The Music:
For your listening pleasure and reflection:
( What is that incident , event , person , place , book
poem , movie or song that quietly planted a secret seed that,
in retrospect , has inspired
and guided you on your journey ?)
Free As A Bird - The Beatles
VIDEO
https://youtu.be/ODIvONHPqpk?si=MKCbFhaibBfO6nJj
Love Rescue Me - U2 ( Dylan and U2)
VIDEO
https://youtu.be/ZDZEqr5LR_g?si=hILI_g-lRmaoO0-S
