The Smell of the Moon

Just what does the moon smell like, anyway?
How can you put in words that which defies description?
As easily might a man condense a sunset
And put it in a jar
As describe the glory of you.

People walk about
Their busy lives
Their heads in clouds
Their eyes blocked by fetters
They cannot even feel

But some of us have come to know
That we are not beings of physical matter
It is not the physical that matters
But the glory of the soul
The strength of the light
Emanating from within

We who are awake to this reality
Love the world
And those who live here
Because it is like being out amongst the stars
Reeling with pleasure and wonder and awe
From one moment to the next

The light from your soul
Commingles with the light from my own
And fills the immensity of space
And the deepest corners of my heart.

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Ephesus

Paul got around. Ephesus is right on the Aegean Sea, on the coast of present-day Turkey. Yesterday he was in Galatia, which was much more towards the middle of Turkey. And when he actually wrote these letters, he was in Rome... So the man could travel. He probably walked. Today's item of interest comes from chapter one in Ephesians. Verses 18 and 19 are particularly interesting: 18 The eyes of your understanding being enlightened; that ye may know what is the hope of his calling and what the riches of the glory of his inheritance in the saints, 19 And what is the exceeding greatness of his power to us-ward who believe, according to the working of his mighty power This is not the first time Paul talks about an inheritance. In Galatians he talks about the inheritance that comes of being part of the Abrahamic Covenant. He notes that we are joint-heirs through and with Christ. In Ephesians, he uses the word "adoption" - that we are adopted as the Children of Jesus Chris...

Engaged

Three Dog Night got it wrong. One is not the loneliest number. They were more accurate when they said Two can be as bad as one. I really wonder how people can survive Without being fully engaged. How they live through each day Without the intimacy I so very much crave... Maybe I am unusual in my desire To have this intimacy, To want to feel that soul So close to my own Sharing light and warmth, Sharing love and passion, Sharing life. Alas! Alas! Alas! For when I do seek to share It is often only to be rebuffed Denied Or used up, Sucked dry, And left an empty husk. I want SO MUCH to share And all I have is the cold, digital world Of typing out a blog.

The Other Art

I'm not sure we appreciate photography as much as we do other art forms. Part of this comes from the reality that surrounds and permeates a photograph - it's very, very real, and the photographer strives for clarity and crispness in the representations. Perhaps this is why black and white images continue to be relevant - they strip away extraneous information (color) and leave us with something that is at once familiar and also non-existent - for nothing exists in black and white. Nothing. I also think that pictures are becoming too common-place... Everyone has a camera in their pocket, and while that's a very democratic thing (everyone can express themselves in a picture easily and readily, and can find an audience for these images, which are casually taken and casually viewed, and perhaps just as casually forgotten) I think that we embrace that casual attitude, and it spills over to all aspects of the media, making it impotent. So I read this article this morning: h...

The Sublime Roundabout

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