Tuesday, 21 February 2012

I have a new home

yet its the same home
i have a new life yet tis the same
i have anew hope yet
its the same hope
this isn't
't just at a rhyme
yet at same time it is the same
the ordinary life its extraordinary
the coaching and the books are all brand new
yet these are the same books i read some time ago
and find i typed ideas
and did review
yet all the reviewing now it has been dysoned and
so i find am  i've been swept clean
oh yes in jesus christ
and all that he has done
and no not taking lightly
not at all
i am still just scribbling when i do my drawing and no i haven't sudden shot up to giraffe tall
my small is still an irritant to misery and
my heart is still insisting to have fun
its just
without rhyme its seems or reason
the holy spirit's love
has come not gone
as others find themselves in dowerness and bitter streams
this little flat of mine is not the same
for years they have been making tidy cosiness
and i have now begun to do the same
the stream of all the words in my good books written just for children same as i eye
are being restored in all the fresheness
without the boring questioning of why

so keep it stuff it somewhere neath a pancake stack eat it like the papers that you read
my bed it now has fine fresh linen on
and a fanheater now repaired is all i need
i'll go and get a cuppa maybe chai or redbush
oh perhaps the stream of words it lack the rhyme
yet before me is a day of joy and obstacles

an annoying little box keeps coming up with the words composytition editor but still it was programmed by another's idea of what is allowable some pharisee out there who cares to be correct maybe one day
like the bedlinen i will agree

oh the joy of words flowing uninhibited like breath blood and pee
God's lovely tide in me

so then what had the tsunami of hope brought from this wonderful wave of full dustbins
it is brought back to me Little women an old fat book
it has brought back to me
photos of arthurs artwork around the time we were about to put a show on together with ali at the portrait house mostly of the time i spent with him in llanberys it has brought lots of photos of frederick following the news from claske that he had died short of a hundred
it has brought photos from around when i was forty from norma they are of friends like phil n pat
steve and moya
john and karen
and 'hilo and mike and a girlfriend
good times when we wereat whitelands meadow

it has brought
two cards i bought whne alone in st ives following my parting from babs

these are generous gifts from god who is spring cleaning me and pouring love and hope in me and encouraging me to cheerthe world up by being spring cleaned and testifying to joy at every opportunity in the face of so many who are not concentrating on what they want which is to love being and what he has done but are concentrating on this:

shut up!

and find the river

spiritual dependency is a gradual one
open the door to the mystery
enjoy some bizarre adventures
you could still do this
this new positve attitude is in beginning the beginning of trust
fuax spirituality this virtue trap of seeming 'Christian'(?) misery is simply not so
you need to let the Holy Spirit pour his love through you yes to you yes bury the word in your heart so it becomes a well spring of living water

for God's sake do this and do it now amen
for 'least of one of these'(your) sake do it now

No comments:

Post a Comment