Pyre

I’m not sure how to explain

losing religion but it never losing me

I know in the Bible Belt

there’s a lot that could mean

—

Let me clarify:

I have practiced unbelief

it never did any good to me

—

and I have practiced like they said

sinking with weights tied to my hands

—

and I heard the weapons of their words

trained to double back just to hurt

—

So I sought the Spirit

and it lit a fire

burned my old heart down

on the Spirit’s pyre

—

I picked up whatever was still around

And found revival from the ground

—

so I’m a believer

but not like that

and I’m a doubter

but I don’t live well without it

—

I’m setting tables

for the people they dishonor

and I think God

is more than just a father

—

and I’ve got Holy

coursing through my veins

and so do you

because that’s how we’re made

Offerings

The sun simply offers us it’s presence and we bask in it

We crave it

We let it warm our skin

And grow our crops

And power parts of our world

And we count on it’s reflection

As we watch the phases of the moon

And we like the way it looks as it comes to us and as it leaves

We like the way it looks sparkling against the water, dappling in the leafy trees

I’m going to stop wondering if my offerings are too small

And just start offering them

Anyways

Burn Thirsty

Some

mark their days

with a coolness

indifferent to everything –

okay.

Some people are content enough

with their discontent,

with the way things are less than what they could be.

Not me.

 

 

I would rather

burn

thirsty –

never satisfied

than be a fire

that’s quenched

 

and died.

 

 

 

-Rebecca Brooks Chasteen

Maybe the miracle (by Rebecca Chasteen)

Maybe, sometimes

the miracle isn’t flawlessness

but redemption.

 

The humility

or hurt

that allows for

vulnerability

instead of seeking cover –

that allows

another to care or help or hope for someone

maybe even in the midst of their own

need.

 

And maybe the miracle

isn’t being able

but being needy

and finding enough

in the palm of your hands

stretched out

asking

“why me”?

 

And maybe the miracle

is peace

in hardship

and joy

in tragedy

and the light of divine grace

in the darkness of the mundane.

 

Maybe the miracle is some sacred beauty

or holy stillness

that manifests itself in rush hour traffic

or the waiting room

or some string of notes

a stranger’s skins against your own

a rundown gas station

something maybe the world tells you

is far from a sanctuary

and yet, in it you find an altar to rest your heart on

even if for just a moment.

 

Maybe the miracle is seeing miracles

just because you looked

and needed to believe

they do exist.

 

Maybe the miracle is still finding

something to give

when your own need is glaring

and your mind is foggy

and you just don’t know anything

except that you do still have this to give

so you do

just because you can.

 

Maybe the miracle is not that

everything goes as planned

but that I become willing

to hope

to believe

to keep moving

with some strange energy

that is not my own.

 

And maybe the miracle is

surviving.

 

Maybe the miracle is then smiling

or feeling something

sort of wild and exciting.

 

Maybe the miracle is shedding skin

letting others in

and returning the favor.

 

Maybe the miracles are ours

to offer

as much as they are ours to seek.

 

Maybe the freedom of that –

the liberation from the norm –

from the “can’t” and “wont” and “never”

maybe the sheer movement that is being broken open,

determined and willing

to make this work

even at the sake of losing my self

 

and in the losing

discovering what I lost wasn’t my self

it was just my shell

because my self is what I found

in the losing and the shedding and the struggle

 

and maybe that

is the miracle.

a million ways to betray (by Rebecca Chasteen)

my problem has been

trying to find someone who

can replace this pen.

just this (by Rebecca Chasteen)

There’s that secret again –

The one that doesn’t matter at all,

because it can’t

 

And yet, of course

it is with this secret, at the core

 

the thing I need the most.

That I refuse to tell a soul.

 

Is this the only question that I must answer?

Is this the only question I can’t manage?

we do what we can (by Rebecca Chasteen)

be alive (by Rebecca Chasteen)

Photo: I took today on impulse

Words inspired by this piece

We Flash (by Rebecca Chasteen)

Wildly potent we

flash

here comes the sun…

Discover happiness

is learning

sanctuaries exist

cutting through the clutter

rebellions

signs

natural wonders

places like this

The best investment in life is

expression

release

Jump in

right now

savor time

love it all

I love your voice, energy

the beauty

connection

smile

lift

bliss

healing

Sitting here with you

who cares enough

you radiate

each day

so many shapes

I appreciate, prefer

you

the quiet (by Rebecca Chasteen)

There is no quiet within me

like breath to breath with you

even movement

is peaceful, contenting waves

even the violence of love

is happy

I am happy

I find my faith over and over

not in you

but in this

re-alignment

this quiet

all the echoes filling soft spaces, finding

gentle landings

I find gentle landings

in your hands

like you know precisely what I want

what I need

(I hope I always return the favor)

There are always a few more smiles, words I didn’t manage to say

but here’s my faith- that I take this as it is

and let it be

and keep close the promise I find in remembering, in believing

that though I don’t understand how

this will all work itself out.

And in the meantime

I will keep open my belief in these

sanctuaries-

this worship of letting go,

of loving just to love,

of quiet,

the quiet

of us.