Empty Chair

Golden thoughts of you

sail

on a hush

of the languid tide

in my restless, sepia heart.

The stark solitude of

your empty chair

screams ~

your absence, lamented.

Yet, I feel you ~

tendrils of your spirit

flutter,

like the casings of dandelion seeds.

The grain of your existence,

has melted into mine,

has melted

into the very grain of

your empty chair.

image credit: DeviantART

poetry: copyright Roxanne Galpin

Poetry Invitation # 33 :: Practicing Resurrection

Every so often, Abbey of the Arts hosts a poetry invitation. She posts a picture and a theme and invites anyone to respond with poems, reflections, prose. Check the icon for more info. Read my submission below.

Twilight Resurrection

Luminous,
dancing with a golden mirth

She skips across the sun-soaked beach,

splaying her toes, softly burrowing

into velvety sand, then splashing,
splashing ~ making iridescent ripples

in a silent and silvery sea
that seems to come from 

beyond twilight

She sparkles in a dusky sunset, 

appearing simultaneously

miniscule and monumental.

photo credit: Christine Valters Paintner
poetry: Roxanne Galpin

Good Friday ~ A Contemplation

The Cross casts a dim shadow on this day. A shadow ~ absence of light ~ has a meaning only in the context of light and contrast. When I find myself in the shadow of an object, I know that light shines beyond this object. If the object had any degree of translucence, the light would shine through it, diminishing the shadow. I spent the afternoon and evening contemplating and considering this today. I longed to explore this train of thought, this seed of inspiration. A seed for a blog post, I thought, to express the fruits of my contemplations of Good Friday, beyond the plastic cliche He died for our sins.

I did an internet search. (Reading the thoughts and reflections of others helps me formulate my sometimes chaotic thoughts.) I waded through a unreflected sea of mindless scripture-regurgitation as well as some guilt-tripping, to get to a few thoughtful and contemplative pieces of writing about Good Friday. I intuitively have a sense that we just don't get it ~ the Passion of Christ seems so mysical ~ moreso than I'd ever realized in all those years of church-going. Each year I heard the same hollow words spewed out by those plastic church people. Words that mostly obscure the light of the mystical and often get confused for it. Plastic words that made my heart feel ill-at-ease. My heart silently begged to know. How can I know truth --- of the cross, of Good Friday --- in the Now? How can I transpose this truth into my self?

For so many centuries people have been spilling blood to get to God. But in the crucifixion it is reversed - God spills his own blood to reach out to us. This is to take away our old fear, that by spilling blood we try to appease an angry God. There is no such thing as an angry God - only an unconditionally loving God.
Richard Rohr, OFM

The crucifixion ~ a vision of Jesus mangled, bloodied, and dying ~ symbolizes the purest and most ultimate poverty [i.e. complete destruction of selfishness]. It's a divine act of selflessness, a shining sign of his divine nature. The light and love of God shine toward me, through the cross.

The cross, therefore, is always ready; it awaits you everywhere. No matter where you may go, you cannot escape it, for wherever you go you take yourself with you and shall always find yourself. Turn where you will -- above, below, without, or within -- you will find a cross in everything, and everywhere you must have patience if you would have peace within and merit an eternal crown.


If you carry the cross willingly, it will carry and lead you to the desired goal where indeed there shall be no more suffering, but h ere there shall be. If you carry it unwillingly, you create a burden for yourself and increase the load, though still you have to bear it. If you cast away one cross, you will find another and perhaps a heavier one.
~ Thomas a' Kempis, The Imitation of Christ, Book II, chapter 12

At one point in my online reading, I glanced upon a sentence that said something like, the human part of us sees death [in the cross], but the spirit in us sees love and life. I tucked that away in the recesses of my mind, for further contemplation. I contemplated. I read a little of Merton. I contemplated some more, silencing the din in my heart, and the loud shouting from my empty thoughts, in a hot, steamy shower. I considered so many things. I felt fluid, metaphorically speaking. And then it made sense to me.

Imagine a tragic analogy ~ a father takes a bullet for his son, thereby saving his son's life, but offering his own. Naturally the son will grieve the (perceived) loss (to himself) of his father. But, should he expend much effort feeling responsible, or guilty, for his father's death? Or should he silently cherish the knowledge that his father loved him, so much that he gave his life, willingly and with love?

Does he not diminish the greatness of this gesture, and possibly his father's love for him, if the son feels guilt and regret, in the wake of the father's death? Does the father feel anger, at having given his life to spare his son's life? Surely Not! The light and love of God shine to me, through the cross. If I consider the crucifixion in the construct of guilt and (self-directed) shame, do I not then diminish its divinity? And possibly the love that underlies the crucifixion? The crucifixion represents God's forgiveness of us all. Forgiveness = surrender. God surrenders to us through his Incarnation.

And then my heart travels to thoughts of Mary. As a mother, I think of her especially on Good Friday. I meditate upon her passivity, as a still and silent witness to her son's suffering. Mary dearly loved her human son, but she loved and honoured the glory of God more. She collaborated in our redemption. For me, Mary's sanctity lies in her immense sorrow, what St. Bernard called a martyrdom of the heart. With her purity of heart, she teaches us love, humility, faith and obedience. This leads me to think of God's will as a road map, and not a direction or a destination.


Jesus made his mother our mother. He made everyone kin to me, to you. Each of us contains the pure glory of God within us. And therefore, although strangers, we belong to each other through an inextricable, divine link. Thomas Merton wrote of a metaphorical dream-state, of illusory separateness, of spurious self-isolation. He described awakening from this dream, seeing and feeling the gate of heaven everywhere: I was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that I loved all those people, that they were mine and I theirs. And, Peter Storey writes, “From the cross where he is nailed, Jesus nails us to each other ... If Jesus has made everyone kin to me, would that not make every war in history a civil war and every casualty a death in my family?”

Wow. I never saw it that way, before. I feel filled with light.

[Here's a great article on the vulnerability of Jesus.]

Good Friday

So many things to consider. Lucy's post got me to reflecting upon Good Friday in a way I hadn't, previously. I stayed up all night. It's noon here. I need to sleep. When I awake I will write about Good Friday. In the meantine, here's a favourite of mine, from Dali.

Encouraging Bliss ~ Do Not Get Rid of Your Vice

Seeking Over Stimulation ~ I have lived life like a hummingbird, that moves in a frenzied blur from flower to flower, in search of the sweet nectar of excitement and stimulation. When life gets me down, I run from the anxiety and boredom by overindulging in variety and activity. I often have felt like that child, who runs down the aisles of a toy store, fearful of choosing one toy because she will miss out on the rest. Before this time in my life, I have rarely stopped to experience my inner self, to focus on completion. I've sort of felt like that stone skipping across a lake ~ when it slows down or stops it sinks deeply. And then? Oh no ~ have I sunk too far inward? Have I gotten dissolved in the contemplative moments?

So, what's the upside of this vice? How can I transform my vice into a virtue? Well, my creativity, my ability to visual beyond what's present. That quality has served me well, wherever life has taken me. However, I could stop worrying about dissolving, or sinking into oblivion ~ when I stop ~ and taste the sweet nectar of life as its offered me. Eckhart Tolle writes of thinking as a disease ~ a cancer. Indeed, with me, its so. And this blocks my path to the present, to the here and now, to my self. It also fuels that frenzied, fluttering hummingbird, which seeks constant movement, but does not savour the moments.

I found this exercise difficult to complete. I hope I have done it some justice. I feel like I've just barely skimmed the surface.

Full Moon Dreamers ~ Pink April Moon

Full Moon Dreamboards ~ a creative way to express what we wish to manifest in a particular month. Each month has a name, a this becomes the theme or inspiration for the dreamboard. For more on Full Moon Dreamboards, visit Jamie's site.

Full Pink Moon - April - This name came from the herb moss pink, or wild ground phlox, which is one of the earliest widespread flowers of the spring. Other names for this month's celestial body include the Full Sprouting Grass Moon, the Egg Moon (the full moon before Easter), and among coastal tribes the Full Fish Moon, because this was the time that the Shad swam upstream to spawn.

Pink ~ the colour of fresh, young skin; the colour of deliciously broiled Wild Sockeye Salmon fillets; the colour of White Zinfandel (a favourite of mine); the colour of the tartest, most refreshing Pink Lemonade; the colour of bitter and juicey Grapefruit flesh; the colour of sunrise skies, also of sunset skies; the colour of the sun on a lazy and sultry summer evening; the colour of magnolias and Cherry Blossoms; (in Feng Shui) the colour of universal love.

Pink emits a soothing energy. Designer use pink to convey softness, tenderness, playfulness. Both bold and gentle could describe pink. Pink expressed joy, hope, and gentle vibrancy. I entered this world through my mother's pink door, just as my sons entered this world through my own pink door. Ahhh, pink ~ portal of life, as in the pink canal.**

As the Full Pink Moon approaches, my spirit stirs to embrace life more vibrantly, taking courage to hold hope closer to my heart, and remembering the plethora of joys that bless me in my life. I feel also, a stirring in my soul to work toward spreading hope to others with the smallest of gestures, and to embrace transformation with my whole being.

** credit to my husband, Martin, for coming up with this interpretation of and metaphor for PINK**

~ all photos taken by yours truly;

I created this mosaic at BigHugeLabs~

Wishcasting Wednesday ~ Wishes for Transformation

This week's Wish Prompt ~ What do You Wish to Transform?

And, so, this week, this holy week ... I make wishes for transformation. As the week leads me to Good Friday, and thoughts of Our Lord suffering persecution and death, and then to Easter Sunday, when he rose from the dead, I ponder what transformation means for me, in my life. Transformation dances all around me ~ in the blooming cherry blossoms, magnolias and rhododendrons, in the awakening woods. I live transformation ~ each moment I breathe ~ that's transformation.

I wish to transform the world around me, through transformation of myself. I wish to transform myself by standing firm in the present ~ living in, embracing, the now. My life encapsulates itself in the now. I wish  to transform myself by gaining a truer understanding of those around me, embracing them with compassion, rather than judgement. I wish to transform the world around me by making small gestures of hope to those who need it most.

What do you wish to transform?