Dark Morning

And the rain washes away all warmth and certainty, even as it removes the brick, molecule by molecule, from the walls of my house.

And the sky refuses to speak to the Sun, and the Sun turns its back on the moon.

And all who are lost embrace their lost-ness, and all who are not lost refuse to lead.

And one by one the bright lights of the firmament go out.

And the ancient streams run with dark water.

And the ocean floor is an underwater desert,

And the village square is under surveillance.

And yet i, to whom all this was entrusted,

i will shine through this dark morning and entrust my love to the fading stars from which it came. i will no more assail my neighbors and curse my tormentors, for my curses will stick in my throat, and my tormentors will only sharpen their implements more gleefully.

No, i am made for song, and my song is this: the dark morning gives way, and gives way again. i am made to carry love and light, and i will move, even through dark mornings, toward you and all that casts shadow upon you.

You will see me and think: he is a dreamer. i will see you and say: behold, the source of my dream. We were made for each other, and from each other, and our dark mornings all hold the promise of light.

May you hold that light close, and hold it high, in the year that is upon us.

--Mr. Gobley

The Living and the Dead

When you are quiet,
You can hear the living
And the dead.

Humble yourself
And quiet your mind.

Then, suspend your consciousness
At the curving crossroads
Of our atmosphere.
There, the cries
Of the living and the dead
Will rise to you:

The sad and ceaseless sigh,
The last breath of the dying;
The outraged gasp and heroic cry
Of the newly born.

It goes on, this does,
In an endless cycle,
The gasps, the cries,
The releases and the urgent taking hold:

The world works so hard
At making and unmaking
That you can hear it,
Rising from every continent,
If you can just float above them for a moment.

You are a part of this play:
You have shouted your arrival
And you will sigh
Your departure,

But for now,
Just for this brief minute,
You are suspended,
At the edge of our atmosphere,
And rising toward you,
Ever toward you,

Are the cries
Of the living
And the dead...

--Mr. Gobley

Please Rise

If you worship, you will hear these words:

"Please rise."

When you hear them, you will stand up.

But why? Because you are told to?

Or because a moment of particular urgency is at hand?

Or because you want to be closer, just that much closer,
To God?

When you hear these words:

"Please rise" --

Do you rise, with all your intent and intensity,
With all your heart and soul,
With all your corpuscles and neurons;

And do you open your pores, your eyes, your mind,
Along with heart and soul,
To receive?

Whatever your religion is --
Even if none at all, defiantly none,
Denouncing the myth of God and its
Hallucinogenic hold on a mind
Weaker than yours --

You still can rise.
You can rise toward
Something.

That Something is waiting for you to rise.

In fact,
You were made to rise.

Rise,
With all you've got.

Please.

Rise.

--Mr. Gobley

The Spiritual Content of the Modern Office

Some days, i cannot work, because everything has deeper meaning than it was intended to have. Today is one of those days.

And so, because this colored veil has descended before me, i will demonstrate for you how any piece of business correspondence yields a treasure trove of spiritual wisdom.

How a business catch-phrase, or a corporate memorandum, or a strategic plan, is a thinly disguised exercise in spiritual growth, a plaintive cry toward a hidden God, a determined reach into the cosmos.

For example: i glance down at my desk and i see the words "Associate Director."

And from this, i receive the following:

O great Director
Of all tasks,
Great planner
Of significant meetings,
Master of Strategy,
Maker of Meaning:

Let me be so bold
As to assist you
In your undertakings
Large and small;
If i can serve You
Then i can
Know You;

If, in your employ,
i can heal wounds
and convey wonder,
then, in humble association
With You,
And under Your
Providential direction,

i might be so bold
As to become your
Associate Director.

We are all your
Associate Directors.
Let us blossom,
Leaves of learning
On your organizational tree,

That we may lend shade and shelter
To those that rest beneath.

*

Now i turn my attention to a memo, and i see the words:

"Accounts Receivable"

And from this i receive the following:

i am drying ink
on the ledger of your love.

i live to soak in
and reveal meaning
behind the vastness of numbers
that symbolize your might.

Through you, i am balanced,
Made whole
With that other side
Which also serves;
i rest for mere moments in
Your Accounts Receivable,
Waiting to make whole

The debt that began with the
Indebtedness of
My existence.

When i return to you:
Please receive me.
Balance me.
Mark my column,
So that you may also
Return to me.

*
i am not productive today. But i am blissfully happy.

May you be happy as well, today and always, as the words and work of another day peel open to reveal your connection to All That Is.

--Mr. Gobley