But wait…

There’s more!

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Background:

After a difficult Tuesday, I did what I needed to to process it (e.g. yesterday’s blog). Then set myself to live the next day (Wednesday) dependent on creative love, not my own independent resources. And shared my need with those who asked, and asked for prayer. At the end of the day I texted this to some mates: “Men, thanks for your prayers .. it was a beautiful day today... God stepped in and helped heaps. Thank you brothers for joining with me. Thank you God for your help in handling the difficulties and my forgetfulness etc... very “looked after” I was!!”. And this came out:

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Oh God you helped, the atmosphere was great,

the setting - with two other adults there

with attitudes of helping, not of hate,

capacities honed sharp to show the care

that those kids really feel and understand,

& step up to, to do their very best,

along with do-able assessment planned.

Disruptions were disrupted - and the rest 

was “history” (this morning), as they say. 

It felt like bits of heaven opened up.

Creative love itself involved today

itself in the classroom of this “young pup”.

And I am linking help effective from

yourself in ways as obvious as this,

to my inviting you in prayer (and song!),

‘n’the “body” joining with, not taking piss.

And for the chance to work like this in part-

-ner-ship along with you, I’m very glad!

But something makes me long for more, the art

of conversation as I walk, and gad

about the place, responding to their needs,

& opportunities (& threats) as well,

not just on outside, growing plants from seeds,

but inside, with my own “electron shells”.

My own subjective sharing of this life,

my feelings world, and motives, images.

I think I see how ev’ry bit of  strife

was tuned to as your son in scrimmages.

It took my all, and knowing too, the game.

Expecting help along the way, and fun

that will involve my going past what sane

& “normal” life calls for. I had to run!

Not thoughtlessly, as frantic person might,

but joining in with much more than the norm.

And thus I would live all my life - in sight

of you, my God, my Father, through each storm.

Filled with the spirit of creative love, 

to try to make it manifest down here

that Earth reflect the heavens up above.

The very sea turns blue*, it would appear!

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Footnote

e*  - not the “blue” of depression, but the regal blue of ancient cultures, also appreciated by flower lovers and bower birds.

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