(“Corpus Callosum”, 2017, original encaustic)
Reverse Osmosis of Life
It’s a two way street
The way reality exists
Divided into truth on one side
And illusion’s delusions the other,
And yet the most fascinating aspect
Is the membrane that exists between the two
A membrane of I don’t know what,
But which I’m sure the ancients had a name for,
Which divides, insulates and yet connects
And filters through cosmic osmosis
The personal and transpersonal,
Or you could say the mortal and immortal.
Sometimes I can feel the membrane at work
Seeing it even just beyond the limits of my mind’s eye
Knowing what it’s doing
As it transpires
Because I am in fact on both sides simultaneously
At least to some degree.
Everything after all is an extension
And expression of Life,
You, me, us,
In whatever forms it finds us
From refined and subtle to coarse and gross.
The other night I dreamt of being a bridge
Not a figurative one, but literally
An object with girders and cross members
Able to span a stream or gully.
It didn’t surprise me, just intrigue me
That the creative nature of the Mind
Is what it is
And in fact, is all there is.
(8/18/25)
In the corpus of life's journey
Corpse consoling the dead
With him Walking on threads
Not knowing when his are chopped
In each existence sway
After the nights and the days
All lines will blur and meld In silence
Fading into eternal oblivion
Survey the hands that do the tiresome deeds,
the feet that clear the weeds on paths of sin,
the ears that listen, writing down the needs
the loving hearts that pray for souls to win.
Disciples offer worthwhile help for free
with gentle words when fellows disagree.
No censure made for lives from guilt reborn
but pure encouragement in lieu of scorn.
From baskets filled with food for hungry kids
to welcome beds that homeless people crave.
From secret cash for one who’s hit the skids
to counsel giv’n a work-a-holic slave.
Observe these ones who bear their Savior’s name.
Envision corpus Christi without shame -
His body glorifying The Lord - forgiv’n -
the church at work and Holy-Spirit-driv’n.
Hoc est corpus*, hocus pocus
Legerdemaine, a shift in focus
Hoc est corpus, from the Mass
Hocus pocus, parody crass
Transubstantiation phrase
Ridicule, to baser plays
Papists, Protestants at odds
Declaring doctrines with regards
To our Lord’s communinion meal
Causing strife, divisions real
Luther replaced trans with con
Zwingli’s bread, alone anon
Calvin said we participate,
Joined to Christ when we partake
Hocus Pocus, thus a slur
“Magical”, what was inferred.
After Christ’s blood, more was shed
Strange remembrance, but ‘nuf said…
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*Hoc est corpus meum, Latin for ‘This is my body’
From what I can find, Hocus Pocus was the stage name for a magician who performed around 1640. Somewhere along the way, someone noted a similarity of sound between 'hoc est corpus' and 'hocus pocus', and observed (sarcastically) that the Catholics must believe magic occurred during the reciting of the mass to change the wine and bread into the blood and body of Christ...
No word “yes” and “no”
Never revealed just a fiddlesticks
Never clear and shouted “hang on a mo!”
Emphasize public should demand to jurist
For seeking one by one lines
To avoid mourning forever
Clause by clause just a black nicks
Blunt down and pointed upwards
Vide! Marginal are always oppressed
HABEAS CORPUS
My daughter writes
Where are you Dad?
When'll you come ?
Who builds walls between us ?
Even if you come , how will I
Recognisze you ?
Blood simmers-
I was safe in mamma's belly
The day you stepped down
With accompaniments
Mamma lost her sense
Today, my ninth birthday
No cakes , candles and guests
Where are you ?
Parents meeting in school
I stood alone embarrassed
My Miss holding me,kissing on cheeks
Friends say
You are behind bars
Is it Dad ?
All relatives swear my birth
Am I that doom'd
Tell me Dad !
Mamma weeps often
Looking at railroads
Down our flat
Says nothing-
My daughter writes
When will you come
Mamma
Me
Where are you
Observe the ones who bear Christ's name,
see corpus Christi without shame.
They're His, aflame and all forgiv'n;
the church at work and Spirit driv'n.
Survey the hands that do good deeds
the feet that stamp out weeds of sin,
the ears that hearken to the needs
and loving hearts that pray to win.
Bags of clean clothes or groceries
and toys for kids to please with such
a friend, a crutch for wannabes,
note to a mom who works too much.
A "Christ" ian offers help - esprit,
a warming breath, you will agree.
One censure free, one new reborn
receives support in lieu of scorn…