The leaves fall and fall,
and then the colors wander off,
and then comes November’s cold, its grayness,
all reduced to shades of gray, then winter.
First there is some loss, and then there is some loss.
The birches and maples and beeches
stand silently without birds, without regret.
They are not counting. They are not trying.

Once you have let go of all you are fond of
you are empty enough to listen
for a presence only absence can reveal.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

October 7, 2019

Well, we’re all looking, aren’t we, for something?
Sweeping the house with every broom of indulgence,
every whisk of duty, poking under every chair leg
with the roaring vacuum of desire. Finding nothing yet.

Or studiously avoiding what we’re seeking, desperately
averting our eyes, staring at a piece of trash glinting…
How silly, or sad, the way we trade our hungers for ones
we’re more comfortable complaining about.

No one told us, or did they?, that the sweeping sound
is music of the greatest genius, but only if we go slow
and listen to it, the tune of our longing without finding,
because what you would find is always what you don’t have,

and what you most need you already have. It’s here,
and never left the house of your heart, given to you
like your skeleton, your gravity. Your whole life, precious
one, is the sound of God sweeping the world for you.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

October 4, 2019

You are going to die.
                  Probably not today… but keep it in mind.

You are going to shine.
Definitely today, though it may not be visible
from the outside, outside being too distant
from the throne of your being,
the gem of your you.
Today beneath the rumple and muddle
                  you will shine.

You will trip and fall,
though in what way or how badly is yet unclear.
But you probably will not die.
                  Keep that in mind.

Today you will pass by the actual gates of heaven,
their confounding pearlescence hid from your naïve eyes,
but there it will be.
                  You can go in.

Today you will be loved from every direction,
though you may not see a hint of it
till the stars come out holding up their lights
like your fans at a rock concert.
                  That’s what that will mean.

Today you will be loved by the One whose love
is powerful enough to spin planets and fill oceans
and make something as glorious as you.
Keep that in mind.
Even as you pick yourself up off the floor today,
                  keep it in mind.

________________
Weather Report

Transitive:
you will reflect on the weather,
which will reflect you.
Though you will see it all about you
none of it will be about you,
and as you find yourself in the thick of it,
in the thick of it you’ll have to find yourself.
Whether or not you do,
it will still be weather.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

October 3, 2019

         “We are merely slaves;
         we have done only what we ought to have done!’”
                  —Luke 17.10

Admire the heroes.
Let their focus and perseverance fill you.
But don’t bother trying to emulate them:
you’ll only feel inadequate.

Listen for what you yourself are called to do,
the gyroscope in you that leans you,
the magnet that pulls you toward something.
Merely do what is in you to do.

Don’t try to be the hero who dashes out of the ranks.
Be a mere slave to the passions you’re given,
the lowly servant of goodness and beauty and justice,
quietly obedient to the voice within.

Light is generated not by success,
but by obedience to your given gifts.
Tie a rope around your waist and your vision.
Follow humbly. That’s all your heroes have done.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

October 2, 2019

Faith is no superpower;
it isn’t a substance with quantity.
Faith is trust in God,
openness to the power inherent in what is.

Faith is being in the grip of the gravity
of God’s grace.
It’s the gravity that does all the work,
and no one is without it.

Faith is a tiny, weak finger
willing to flip the light switch of God.

Faith is whatever the bird knows
of feather, of wing, of air.

Faith is allowing light to shine,
lungs to breathe, God to love.
         
         If you have faith the size of a mustard seed…
                  [Luke 17.6]

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

October 1, 2019

Driving lost in night rain far off,
doubling back down rutted, regretted roads,
over a small bridge of low lying trauma

from nowhere to somewhere even less anywhere,
windshield wipers teasing us but not making it better.
The little tunnel of light in our headlights

reminds us too much that we were born
with a sore, festering into certainty,
that our whole life is a long, slow mistake.

We don’t seem to notice in the other seat
the Beloved, coloring all over the map,
murmuring, “Thanks for giving me a lift.

I don’t care where we are.
I just like being with you.
What a gift.”

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

September 30, 2019

I didn’t hear the joke among the geese
but I hear them laughing and laughing,
and I swallow some of their hilarity.

The maple wastes its red on me
—I can’t take it all in—
littering the floor with glory.

A flame of vine flashes up a tree.
Berries hang I know I can’t eat but
still they look so dang good.

Apples ripen and hang like ornaments
offering themselves, the opposite of beggars,
Here, have me. Have all of me.

So much to recall and celebrate
in reds and yellows. Leaves don’t mind
spending their splendor on me.

This is too much, I think, too much,
but the crow by the road laughs and says
No, actually, it’s just about right.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

September 27, 2019

Troubled and burdened, I go to the woods
where the trees are not trying so hard.
Not striving for the light,
simply letting what is in them unfold.

Water in the brook whose flow is merely surrender.
Birds letting go of their songs, songs threading
through woods as far as they go.
Leaves untroubled to be turning the color of death.

A snake growing a skin to shed,
a pod growing a seed to release.
Only gradually do I realize
how content I am to be here.

A nuthatch works a little branch,
finding something tiny here and there,
until she is done, and turns and flies off,
satisfied.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

September 26, 2019

         There was a rich man
         who was dressed in purple and fine linen
         and who feasted sumptuously every day.
         And at his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus…
                           —Luke 16.19-20

If I believed in a literal hell I would have to take note
that here and in the great judgment of the sheep and goats,
the one criterion for being sent up or down
is how we treat the poor.

Of course I give to the poor at the food bank.
But I still keep them outside my gate, don’t I?

And what of the socially homeless, the wounded,
the lonely, the scared, the trans, the different?
How do I cut myself off
from the hurting outside my gate?
How do I shelter myself in my privilege?
How do I love that gate?
What shields me from other people’s suffering,
from other people’s vulnerability?
Today will I even notice it?
What can I do today to open the gate,
to invite them in, or to go out?
Only when our gates are open can they become
the gates of heaven.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

September 25, 2019

The “X” on your treasure map
         is usually a wound.

Your buried treasure takes a lot of digging,
         or sometimes just sitting there.

The latch on your treasure chest
         is usually a silly little thing.

But it seldom opens easily.
         You sealed it shut for a reason.

Sometimes the Beloved lifts it open for you.
         Or pushes it open from inside.

It’s bigger on the inside than the outside.
         You have to climb in.

There’s never anything in there.
         Just you, as you were created,

beloved,
         treasured.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

September 24, 2019