musings of Kimiko Karpoff - Seeking
The Day of Wind
the day of wind
I can hear it
from my bed it really does whistle
and roar around the grove of highrises
concrete caused wind tunnels
the wind's song calls me outside
to vintage blue skies and country fresh air
clean enough to drink
Holy Spirit, call me out and blow me clean
take away the smog and dust
call me into the world
show me the sky
walk with me on these streets
and together in this fresh moment
we'll spot the seed of new life
April 29, 2013
~
Driving
It was the roll of the road under the street lamps.
Change lanes to the left, through the intersection.
Telephone poles and street lamps lined up like a reforested strip edging the highway.
The moon looked like the top of my right thumb nail.
I turned off the radio, one of those CBC in-depth documentaries. I often like them, but tonight I needed to hear instead. What's going on?
I listen to the car buzzing and engine noises. Can I hear through to the silence?
It's not words I hear. Just a quiet sense of calm that says, wait and watch. Wait and watch.
I carry on driving through the night knowing that I will arrive somewhere.
Thanks be to God.
April 13, 2011
~
Let Go Crumbling Banks
Deep Wonderous Mystery
there are the glorious moments
perched on the banks of the sun dappled river
hurts washed away in the infinite
beauty of a Divine Love that creates such a moment
And there is the letting go
getting swept away
leaving comfortable bank
we are
Friends we have been stopped here
too comfortable on the banks of the river.
We've built our settlement and become complacent.
But the bank is eroding. We are desperately trying to hang on
while God is desperately trying to entice us to let go.
We are our own Pharaoh.
We hold ourselves captive.
We have been buffeted by plagues and frogs
that we ourselves have called down,
but we refuse to release ourselves.
God is calling us and we have put our fingers in our ears.
We have made our hearts stone.
Let go, let go!
Soften your hearts.
Or steel them if that metaphor works better.
Steel them against the fear of leaving the bank,
comfortable but captive. Not captivated,
but captive.
And here's the truth.
If we let go, we go with God.
Or we stay with the Pharaoh
of our own making.
oct 23 2011
~
God, Toe
When I look at God, I see my feet
walking on God's earth
kicking up dust
God; toe
I smile at the image.
Is God my big toe?
my balance
the part I lead with
carries my weight
feels my connection to the earth
goes unconsidered much of the time?
I would never consider cutting off my toe.
Do I hold God so dear?
Ah, but do I act like it?
Could you tell by my behaviour?
We hide God's power just as modern shoes coddle the feet, not allowing them to develop full strength and capacity.
We put God in shoes.
I like shoes but what do they do to my feet?
My body?
Is my toe free to move?
Free to feel the path?
Is our world too dangerous for bare feet?
Or are our feet too coddled to be bare in the world?
Have we wrapped God in something too pretty and too comfy to really help us be aware and be strong in the world?
July 13, 2011
~
Blackberries
not for the faint of heart
blackberries
a journey to find
(and sometimes just growing by the sidewalk)
and there, deceptively simple to pick they seem
but brambled, difficult to reach
the sweetest one hanging just beyond my hand
growing up the creek bank
delight in the water with the berries just beyond my reach
just like God. Delightful,
challenging and elusive all at once.
September 5, 2011
~
to struggle is hope
the light is there
in the darkness I know
it is and any moment
I will turn
my head in the right direction
and catch the flicker beckoning
through the black
~
Wall
The rough edges of the crack frames the light. With my eye close, I can see.
Unconsciously my fingers massage the grain of the brick, hands on either side bracing
my head to peer through.
I shift around to shift the view, catching only glimpses, flashes of green, bright flashes,
the glitter of water, perhaps, shadowy bits.
What is this crumbling wall? A wall that looks built to sit on, feet swinging happily although the humpty dumpty risk.
If I jump can I catch my fingers on the edge and pull myself up?
What is this wall? Where have I ended it? Did I not add a gate?
Back to the crack
I stick my fingers in, pads against that roughness and pull apart like I'm prying bars, fingers bleeding joyfully
as the crumbling crack widens.
One day my shoulder will fit through
And hopefully I will not inadvertantly fix the wall.
November 18, 2009
~
Embrace the Downpour
wondering the universe
wandering the universe
feeling the sidewalk scrolling past beneath my feet, my shoes
looking at the signs on the corners
block after block
hoping I'll know the turn when I see it
at first, when the rain begins I look for a place to duck for cover
finding nothing suitable I relax and realize that the water falling is quenching
some thirst I didn't know I had
after a momentary glance
I lift my face to it
spread my arms and embrace the downpour
the tears of joy, exhaustion, exasteration, bewilderment and contentment drip over me
soaking my being in their oddly warm stream
life began in water
all of that mystery that grew out of the damp was seeping into me
the beginning of whatever this is
starting again
opening my eyes I see the universe has melted like sugar
I start again in wonder
May 6, 2009
~
Does a fish know
Does a fish know it's in water?
Does a flower feel the soil in which its roots rest?
Do birds pray when they take off and land?
Are we the only creatures who have to articulate God or have some kind of concrete, rational description of God?
Does a human feel the soil on which it walks?
Do people pray when they set out and return?
Do I know that I am in you, God, and that you are in me?
How to describe the undescribable?
March 21, 2009
~
the day of wind
I can hear it
from my bed it really does whistle
and roar around the grove of highrises
concrete caused wind tunnels
the wind's song calls me outside
to vintage blue skies and country fresh air
clean enough to drink
Holy Spirit, call me out and blow me clean
take away the smog and dust
call me into the world
show me the sky
walk with me on these streets
and together in this fresh moment
we'll spot the seed of new life
April 29, 2013
~
Driving
It was the roll of the road under the street lamps.
Change lanes to the left, through the intersection.
Telephone poles and street lamps lined up like a reforested strip edging the highway.
The moon looked like the top of my right thumb nail.
I turned off the radio, one of those CBC in-depth documentaries. I often like them, but tonight I needed to hear instead. What's going on?
I listen to the car buzzing and engine noises. Can I hear through to the silence?
It's not words I hear. Just a quiet sense of calm that says, wait and watch. Wait and watch.
I carry on driving through the night knowing that I will arrive somewhere.
Thanks be to God.
April 13, 2011
~
Let Go Crumbling Banks
Deep Wonderous Mystery
there are the glorious moments
perched on the banks of the sun dappled river
hurts washed away in the infinite
beauty of a Divine Love that creates such a moment
And there is the letting go
getting swept away
leaving comfortable bank
we are
Friends we have been stopped here
too comfortable on the banks of the river.
We've built our settlement and become complacent.
But the bank is eroding. We are desperately trying to hang on
while God is desperately trying to entice us to let go.
We are our own Pharaoh.
We hold ourselves captive.
We have been buffeted by plagues and frogs
that we ourselves have called down,
but we refuse to release ourselves.
God is calling us and we have put our fingers in our ears.
We have made our hearts stone.
Let go, let go!
Soften your hearts.
Or steel them if that metaphor works better.
Steel them against the fear of leaving the bank,
comfortable but captive. Not captivated,
but captive.
And here's the truth.
If we let go, we go with God.
Or we stay with the Pharaoh
of our own making.
oct 23 2011
~
God, Toe
When I look at God, I see my feet
walking on God's earth
kicking up dust
God; toe
I smile at the image.
Is God my big toe?
my balance
the part I lead with
carries my weight
feels my connection to the earth
goes unconsidered much of the time?
I would never consider cutting off my toe.
Do I hold God so dear?
Ah, but do I act like it?
Could you tell by my behaviour?
We hide God's power just as modern shoes coddle the feet, not allowing them to develop full strength and capacity.
We put God in shoes.
I like shoes but what do they do to my feet?
My body?
Is my toe free to move?
Free to feel the path?
Is our world too dangerous for bare feet?
Or are our feet too coddled to be bare in the world?
Have we wrapped God in something too pretty and too comfy to really help us be aware and be strong in the world?
July 13, 2011
~
Blackberries
not for the faint of heart
blackberries
a journey to find
(and sometimes just growing by the sidewalk)
and there, deceptively simple to pick they seem
but brambled, difficult to reach
the sweetest one hanging just beyond my hand
growing up the creek bank
delight in the water with the berries just beyond my reach
just like God. Delightful,
challenging and elusive all at once.
September 5, 2011
~
to struggle is hope
the light is there
in the darkness I know
it is and any moment
I will turn
my head in the right direction
and catch the flicker beckoning
through the black
~
Wall
The rough edges of the crack frames the light. With my eye close, I can see.
Unconsciously my fingers massage the grain of the brick, hands on either side bracing
my head to peer through.
I shift around to shift the view, catching only glimpses, flashes of green, bright flashes,
the glitter of water, perhaps, shadowy bits.
What is this crumbling wall? A wall that looks built to sit on, feet swinging happily although the humpty dumpty risk.
If I jump can I catch my fingers on the edge and pull myself up?
What is this wall? Where have I ended it? Did I not add a gate?
Back to the crack
I stick my fingers in, pads against that roughness and pull apart like I'm prying bars, fingers bleeding joyfully
as the crumbling crack widens.
One day my shoulder will fit through
And hopefully I will not inadvertantly fix the wall.
November 18, 2009
~
Embrace the Downpour
wondering the universe
wandering the universe
feeling the sidewalk scrolling past beneath my feet, my shoes
looking at the signs on the corners
block after block
hoping I'll know the turn when I see it
at first, when the rain begins I look for a place to duck for cover
finding nothing suitable I relax and realize that the water falling is quenching
some thirst I didn't know I had
after a momentary glance
I lift my face to it
spread my arms and embrace the downpour
the tears of joy, exhaustion, exasteration, bewilderment and contentment drip over me
soaking my being in their oddly warm stream
life began in water
all of that mystery that grew out of the damp was seeping into me
the beginning of whatever this is
starting again
opening my eyes I see the universe has melted like sugar
I start again in wonder
May 6, 2009
~
Does a fish know
Does a fish know it's in water?
Does a flower feel the soil in which its roots rest?
Do birds pray when they take off and land?
Are we the only creatures who have to articulate God or have some kind of concrete, rational description of God?
Does a human feel the soil on which it walks?
Do people pray when they set out and return?
Do I know that I am in you, God, and that you are in me?
How to describe the undescribable?
March 21, 2009
~
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