Light on the Page

There are many things which are right-sounding, which give the appearance of truth, which you can’t help acknowledging as correct. The world trades on these things and, in spiritual circles at least, they gain their devoted followers. And yet there is too much which, despite its apparent truth, leaves you frustrated and confused, which makes you feel you have no further path to follow. And there is much which is actively, deliberately deceptive. So much for the right-seeming.

At the same time, however, there is a deep baptismal river which flows past us the whole time. It acknowledges the cold sky above, the meaningless light the world tries to thrust on us, and the clay on our soles which is the inevitable result of life on earth. Step into that river just once and there is a sudden song – a piercing small voice inside which says, ‘I am here with you in body and in soul’. This is the voice to look for, the one which stands over and against the noise and flux of the world’s ‘truth’. It is a small voice but the world will never know how much truth it contains. It will never know how those who have found it, who are alone, can hear so much in the silent ether, which no sound breaks. The sky and the light and the clay gain a new life from this.

Are we alone? If all the people in the world said at once, ‘I am alone,’ the bare sound of it would not make us together. But something in the light which is our real home will carry our calling back to a single source. No matter if we live or if we die then, we will all hold converse in one ringing baptism – what is alone is at one with the all, what is apart finds its way to the one.

You may say, that’s all very well but where can I find this baptismal river? The only possible answer is that the river lies in the seeking. Look beyond the world’s noise and the right-seeming, and you will find it. And the baptist? He will be there too.

Baptism

The deep baptismal river, the cold sky,

meaningless light, clay on the soles, and then –

sudden song, a piercing small voice inside:

I am here with you in body and soul.

Not now, not ever, will the world know

how we who are alone can hear so much

in the silent ether which no sound breaks,

how the sky and light and clay gain a life.

One

If we all say at once we are alone,

the bare sound will not make us together,

but something in the light which houses us

will bear our calling to a single source.

No matter if we live or if we die,

we hold converse in a ringing baptism:

what is alone is at one with the all,

what is apart finds its way to the one.

Best wishes, today,

Landar

© landar 2010. All rights reserved

By dint of what it is, the daylight star will never falter, its light will always hold. Yet where it comes from and where it goes to is a mystery. It travels as and when it will. It will be there throughout the hours of day, although the lights and reflections of ordinary life will keep it hidden. It remains the brightest reality in the sky. Its shining wakes another way in the hidden world. It takes the past from everything that’s been.

There is a point of contact for the daylight star, which reaches through the blindness of our ordinary sky. This point is something which is also living blindly in the earth – something which peers so longingly into the question why, it fails to see that conventionally there is no answer. The brilliance of the sky, filled with its daytime distractions, will not see these two points meet – the star whose light never loses its way, and the dreaming head it comes down to anoint.

By night the star is everything I am – my best self, a radiance which knows no falsehood. The points of its crown pierce through every veil of life. We need each other’s eyes to see its light, to live in faithfulness to what we are – to recognize our inner truth and keep the promise of the daylight star.

It’s my wish that Light on the Page should help with this.

Been

The star is ardent, always burning true,

its light will never falter, always hold.

Yet where it comes from, when it travels through,

and where it goes to, never will be told.

But it will be there all the hours of day

when lights and bright reflections hide the seen.

And where it shines it wakes another way

and takes the past from everything that’s been.

Anoint

A point of contact for the daylight star,

which reaches through the blindness of our sky –

a blind thing in the earth which looks so far

it fails to see no answer in the why.

How far removed the brilliance of the day,

which will not see them meeting point to point,

the star whose light has never lost its way,

the dreaming head it comes down to anoint.

The Daylight Star

By night the star is everything I am,

its shining is my best self looking down,

a radiance with no deceit or sham,

no veils of life to hide its piercing crown.

We need each other’s eyes to see the light,

to live in faithfulness to what we are,

to recognize our truth with inner sight

and keep the promise of the daylight star.

Best wishes, today,

Landar

© landar 2010. All rights reserved

In my post ‘WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO BE BORN AGAIN?’ I suggested there were two factors involved in this question. One was that other people carry our completeness within them and bring it towards us. The second was that it happens through grace. I’d like to say a few things here about grace itself.

By definition the concept of grace bears no sense of neccessity. It’s freely given. However, it does perhaps suggest the idea of being ‘found worthy’. Beyond that one can say nothing. That makes it almost the single most beautiful concept in human experience. The other side of being found worthy is ‘to make yourself worthy’. This does not imply that anything will come by grace as a consequence. But it might help to create the right conditions.

There is a debate going round in philosophy which asks, ‘Why is there something instead of nothing?’ Why, for example, is there a universe when a more natural state would be no universe? One may be content to say the ‘Big Bang’. There is another answer. It also contains the notion that beyond a certain point one can say nothing. It’s the concept of grace. (I’m retaining the lower case ‘g’ because I believe the notion is not the prerogative of any religion but a simple matter of truth.) There is ’something’ because of grace. Does that have the corollary of being ‘found worthy’? No. A new creation can’t have done anything yet to be found worthy. And yet if it’s worthy of its Creator (I can’t avoid the capital here) it must contain the beautiful possibility of making itself worthy.

I suggested that being ‘born again’ is something that happens through grace. I believe it’s a truth and reality – almost the greatest one beyond Creation. I believe that one far-off day it will be acknowledged by science itself.

So is it possible to ‘be worthy’?

Best wishes, today,

Landar

© landar 2010. All rights reserved.

Going back to old places is a strange experience. Crossing the coastline, hearing the elusive music of the past, allowing the forgotten sea to return its own weather. Inwardly this is to cross a coast of changes, of life spent. The murmuring of many previous passages returns, like something reborn. And yet the territory may be completely new. The old places are worn – or they have been worn – but the heart is full because it feels itself to have been sent to a region which never existed before.

Therefore I’d like to start out early in the day and reach the coast that’s only in the mind. Perhaps you’ll travel with me. The way’s quite  new, it’s not been travelled before. Yet all the fruits of life are there to find. And if you’ll go with me, and me with you, to this unseen terrain, we’ll learn its secrets, which are still so hard to tell. And being, like you, a traveller in main, we’ll follow every unexpected trail.

What is real? This question intercepts us at every turn. What is real?

Territory

One coast will vanish, another appear –

you and I will cross them both together.

The strange music of one sounds to the ear,

forgotten sea returns its own weather.

This is the coast of changes, of life spent,

the murmuring of passages reborn.

The heart is full which knows it has been sent

to territory new which had been worn.

Trail

I’d like to start out early in the day

and reach the coast that’s only in the mind,

where nothing’s yet been travelled on the way

yet all the fruits of life are there to find.

I’d go with you to this unseen terrain

and know its secrets, still so hard to tell.

And being like you a traveller in main,

we’ll follow every unexpected trail.

Best wishes, today,

Landar

© landar 2010. All rights reserved.

We talk about ‘being all ears’. We talk about ‘having a true ear’. At certain times it’s important to be an ear and nothing else – and a true one at that. How else could tongues of fire reach us? Nothing less will do. And whatever tongues of fire will say you can be sure it will be in the one true language. And if I am to relay it truthfully, magically, I can choose from a sea of images the ones that every mind can see or hear, as if in its own tongue – a truth the heart can feel at any distance, infinite or near.

Philosophers debate about the nature of truth. Is there such a thing? Can we know it? Does it exist as if in a sealed container we can never open? If the mind is to pick the lock of truth it has to become the key. It has to slip into the barrel of the lock tooth by tooth until it opens up its own inborn completeness. The key and the lock are a perfect fit. Mind and truth are made for each other. But you have to enter with your whole being or truth will not open. And again, if truth comes from fire it will have something for every single mind. It will slip on the separate attire belonging to each individual and will pick the very best thoughts the world can find.

Near

An ear to hear what tongues of fire will say,

or else to go unnoticed. Let me be

that ear, that it should magically relay

the highest word, verbatim, truthfully.

And from a sea of images reveal

what every mind can listen to or hear

in its own tongue, a truth the heart can feel

at any distance, infinite or near.

Key

And can the mind then pick the lock of truth?

When it becomes the key and nothing less,

and slips into the barrel, tooth by tooth,

opening its own inborn completeness.

It can be said, if words will come from fire,

that truth has something for each single mind,

and slipping on its separate attire

will pick the best thoughts that the world can find.

Best wishes, today,

Landar

© landar 2010. All rights reserved.