BEYOND LIFE IS LUSHER LIFE
by Blake Steele
Poetry about death and resurrection
file opened 7/94
A...
A MESSAGE TO UCAP VOLUNTEERS
A MUSICAL DEATH WATCH
A SEASON OF GRIEVING
A THIRST FOR LIFE
B...
BLESSINGS IN DEATH
D...
DEATH (a variation on a theme from Reverdy)
DON'T BE AFRAID
DYING
G....
GOD GRANT YOU A BLESSED DEATH
GRIEVING OVER DEATH
F...
FIRST THE NATURAL, THEN THE SPIRITUAL
I...
I AM THE RESURRECTION AND THE LIFE
IN TRUTH, WE GRIEVE ONLY FOR OURSELVES
INVOCATION AND REQUESTS
I SAW A NURSE WHO HELPED A MAN DIE
O...
OUR WORK
R...
REMEMBER AND TAKE COURAGE
RIDING THE BLACK HORSE
T...
TERMINAL ENDINGS
THAT THE LAST GRIEF MIGHT MELT AWAY
THE FINAL FIRE OF PASSION
THE LITTLE CHILD SHALL LEAD THEM
THERE IS A LUMINOUS DEATH
THE TRUE MINISTERS
THERE ARE WINDING, WATERY PATHWAYS
THIS VISION OF THE BEAUTY OF DYING
TO MUSICAL MIDWIVES
U...
UPON THE SHIP WE HAVE ALWAYS NAMED HOPE
W...
WE ARE CHOOSEN TO BE MIDWIVES
WE ARE HERE TO SING SOUL PEACE
WHEN I TAKE MY IDENTITY
WHO CAN VISIT THE STOREHOUSE OF GRIEF?
WORDS IN TWO LANGUAGES FOR DYING AND LIVING
WORDS OF GENTLE LEADING
Last Poem in File:
WORDS IN TWO LANGUAGES FOR DYING AND LIVING
A MESSAGE TO UCAP VOLUNTEERS
It is not enough
to know God, experience God
or love God....
we must celebrate God,
exalt God,
make God beautiful
in our manifestation of Him.
This is our mission,
that hearts might awaken
as they grasp and feel
their essential need
of the Holy Maker
through our lives
and work.
Yet, it is not enough
to celebrate God,
exalt God,
or make God beautiful
until we bear this
work, this essential
unveiling through our artistry
to the most needy:
to the sick, to the oppressed,
to the dying.
Then we shall know
the rising light
of the Divine smile
radiating out from the core of us
to warm the whole
of our lives.
I AM THE RESURRECTION AND THE LIFE
Jesus purely loves young beauty.
That is why an old woman
springs up into youth again;
that is why an old broken man
becomes an adventuresome boy.
GRIEVING OVER DEATH
It is the eyes of the heart
which can see beyond
the empty chair
by the lonely fireside.
Our heart of faith whispers,
"My beloved one
lives in a beautiful place..."
With that, our soul is strangely comforted
and the two worlds are for a moment, one.
If we should long to join them,
then, mysteriously, they join us.
If we should briefly meet them
in the rich, mingling feelings
of our spirit and body,
this would be the radiant root
of a deathless joy.
IN TRUTH, WE GRIEVE ONLY FOR OURSELVES
By our faith,
we can bless the heart of God
and of our loved ones
who have passed before us
into that hidden, wondrous world.
The only strange, sad grief of Heaven
is the pang in beautiful hearts
concerning our pain of grief for them.
Why should we grieve for those
whose souls are young again,
and joyous always?
It is they, who in their wakeful compassions
long (without anguish),
for us to arise and relish
the rare blessings all around us
which we must learn
to thankfully savor.
In truth, we grieve only for ourselves
--what might have been and what is no more--
yet, our terrible loss is only for a season...
The essential ties of the soul are torn
to be reborn
in glad exaltation.
We shall gaze again into
the eyes we have known and loved
and see reflected there
a boundless happiness!
THE LITTLE CHILD SHALL LEAD THEM
The little child shall lead them
when words of truth
flow from deep chambers of the heart
opened by simplicity's white hands.
There is a wise child who is behind us
(locked in a prison),
who is before us, beckoning us on
into our final freedom.
This child alone knows the way through
the tremulous storms of thick darkness;
this child alone can walk between two dragons
into earth's final paradise of peace.
It is this child
who takes off all mortal gowns
in death's slow disintegration,
and steps naked
out through pure nothingness
into heaven's radiance.
THE FINAL FIRE OF PASSION
The final fire of passion
is to pass over!
It is for the great release to come
with the heart wide open!
It is to sing death, like a celebration.
Such is the victory of a luminous death!
But for us who are left behind,
there are good-byes which can only be spoken
with expressions of the face,
gentle touches of the hand,
and the muttering of metaphors.
What else can be done?
Good-bye is the pain we endure
because we have loved.
UPON THE SHIP WE HAVE ALWAYS NAMED HOPE
A ship lets loose its lines
as the crowd stirs
and white sails,
like mounting, morning clouds,
are spread to the blue winds.
We are the unwilling watchers
on the shore
bidding beloved sailors farewell,
watching white sails
grow dim, disappearing
into the dark of night.
Yet, if we linger in the silence left us,
listening long with the strong intent
of our faith,
we might faintly hear wild spray
curling over the ship's bow
as it sails into the invisible light
of a distant dawn.
WE ARE CHOOSEN TO BE MIDWIVES
There is no way around the cross
which love nails us to
that it might deepen our souls for loving.
We must grow to grant our full permission
of a soul's release--
though we sign it with a broken heart
and seal it with the tears of our eyes--
it is that we might birth the beloved wayfarer
into eternity
with our courageous final act of love.
It is not our choice
but the choice of love
that we become
their broken-hearted midwives.
DON'T BE AFRAID
Don't be afraid.
Your beloved is with God now,
and God is a rising ecstasy,
a blue breath of freedom in the veins.
There is a distant, spiritual country
which views this world
as insubstantial shadow.
They are there now, finally and fully alive!
Their joyous freedom is astonishing!
There is a soft radiance
which streams out of everything.
Bird song astounds the soul with beauty.
It is the land of the deep gentle
which is like a mother's warm arms.
It is the place which has always
seeped into our highest dreams of happiness,
the source of that loving wonder
which gave us strength to carry on
until the final farewell.
Don't be afraid,
your beloved is saying hello now to God's kind face.
And we shall follow them one day.
*
To a person of faith, our most painful good-byes
shall become, in the end, our most joyous hellos.
REMEMBER AND TAKE COURAGE
A good death
is a loving farewell
into birth. In truth, a graduation.
The tearing of the roots of the soul
for the one left behind
is an astonishing pain,
making a yielding soul soft,
making the outraged soul
fierce like wildfire.
But the dying one leaves
and is born anew into a rapturous, white, safety.
The face becomes noble
as it beholds astounding wonders.
A little girl springs out of an old woman's body
and embraces the young Messiah.
A young boy leaps up from on old man's bones,
his eyes flashing, his nostrils flared
as the great adventure begins.
You who remain,
weeping in the shadows of mortal trees,
remember...
somewhere, high overhead,
golden doors are opening
and a wondrous music has begun.
TO MUSICAL MIDWIVES
The soulful presence
of a musician
who is a poet
of life
shall be the work
of giving a sacred,
silent, meaning
to the holiness
of death.
OUR WORK
Our work
is to sing
the sacred
meaning
of the holiness
of death.
THE TRUE MINISTERS
Many would wish you health and wealth.
Let those who journey towards
becoming deep, spacious souls
wish you good living and dying.
DEATH
(a variation on a theme from Reverdy)
Two worlds draw near each other.
As a burning candle dies
its smoke goes up.
Someone has gone up.
Above the low clouds of gray
the blue sky is also rising...
From naked trees in the mist
golden stars are dangling,
whirling and spinning
in a delicate breeze.
All around the roof edges
of a distant cathedral
there are golden gutters
from which little silver bells are hanging.
Prayers arise for the departed
like clouds of incense--
a free heart has flown away
and we sit sadly listening.
Somewhere, the soul,
like candle smoke,
softly rises into heaven.
It passes by little silver bells
and makes them ring.
THAT THE LAST GRIEF MIGHT MELT AWAY
Sing your last grief away now,
with your silent, inner voice.
The song begins with...thank you...
and ends with,
I accept it all...
THERE ARE WINDING, WATERY PATHWAYS
Why are we afraid to deeply feel?
At the first shot of the hunter