Tapestry of Faith
Chalices of blood
beads on the mala, sacred books
shrines, temples and ashrams
are a wonderful rich weave
of ritual and depth
invested with love and devotion
tears and hope.
The carry the colour of faith,
the rainbow of countless prayers
kisses blown to the beloved.
Dark incense infused wooden idols
rich in grain
where the devoted fingers of saints and sinners
have searched for redemption
in the crevices of a dream of god.
Aching love poured into form
and prayers spoken over and over again
a thousand names of god chanted
in voices dark and warm and broken
or sung in tones to match the light of a swan’s wing
clear as crystal feathers.
Robed story tellers and desert wanderers
gather to whisper secrets of the mystery
into ears hungry with longing.
rich thread,
blood red and heart gold
the tapestry of holy men and hope
that has spun its web
through all the cultures of the world
as the longing we are born into
finds ways to express its aching perfection.
But what of us?
in our sanitized and stylish homes
caught like flies
on the bright, garish, sticky surface
all shine and glitter
and empty as one of those great temple drums
that once sounded to bring us to our knees.
How will we find our way
to humility and love
when the flickering screen offers us everything?
when the whole world is laid out before us
in its glory and its folly,
a cardboard feast of ideas and wishes
that does nothing
to hide the growing doubt at the centre
that something is wrong
and all is not as it should be.
Will you flinch and turn away
from another being broken
another bright facet of the emerald earth
gone dark
as our carelessness, greed and blind forgetting
forces our feet to keep walking
step by reluctant step
towards a fire
that grows hotter with each passing day
when will we find the courage
to accept that we do not know the way
and not keep blindly walking
on a redundant path
that leads to our certain ruin.
Sound the drum
dear heart
Lion of the heart
and let the emptiness that we run from
become our servant and our master
as the tone of love builds and swells
and sounds its call to the real
to a life in the service of life.
What wonders we could create
if we only dared to see another way.
What healing when the darkness
is a place to rest
and not something to fear.
I do not know the way
my answers are tattered flags
on the ramparts of who I think I am
but I do know
that the centre holds peace
and peace holds the centre,
that the one seed
from which the whole wild world garden sprang
is within you and within me.
Lets make an altar of our humanity together
a clay ikon of hearts and breath
of suffering and our hope
and come together
in praise of that which we all share
of the life we are given
and the universe beneath
our walking feet
blessing our home with every step we take,
hearts cutting a great bow wave through forever
at the bright point where life meets life
where time meets now
and together we shape this unfolding,
legendary moment
into the perfect garden
where we make our home
in an eternity of stars and light.