Eagle's Flight

walking home

clarksapoet — Thu, 23 Sep 2010 13:17:16 +0000

To Return Home
a different place
a different person

This is the last chapter of my second book of poems.
The portion of the journey of wandering out in the wilderness is mostly complete.
I’ve gotten used to the rigors of the road. It’s become my new familiar where I feel at home.
But the journey is not complete and I return to where I began, to my old comfort places and find them different than I remember.
I pause to remember and give thanks, before moving on in to the promises.

walking home

after the party
after the music stops
and people gather their things
and depart

and I am left
finally
alone

to
walk home
in the quiet dark
listening
quieting
my soul

cleaning up
putting away
issues not mine
thanksgivings shared
delights in friendships strengthened
annoyances picked up as dust from the road
and I walk alone again

towards that still place
where I begin again
to see me
with a God-eye perspective
and
can
rest
at home

and it’s soon time
to go out
walking abroad among friends and neighbors
again
building friendships
strengthening the sick and tired
sorrowing with the grieving
listening to those not easily heard

and I wonder
at helping such others to walk
I’ve tried to bring
large heaped plates
to the table
but few eat
but few drink

until they are touched
by a love that knows
them

a witness

clarksapoet — Thu, 23 Sep 2010 13:12:50 +0000

Ever seen something you’d like to share with others, but they just can’t quite see it, can’t quite understand what you are trying to say to them?
Sometimes the explaining isn’t enough. Some things which are beyond us, can only be seen or apprehended by walking there, walking through a place or and experience. For some things you just have to be there. Come let us walk together, and see what we shall see.

a witness

I have been there
I am walking there
and would like you to see
what I am seeing

I would like you to see
what is so close
to you
I would like you to see
an invitation extended
by Life, the party’s host
a hand delivered invite
there
at your feet

I would like you to see
differently
further into yourself
others
and Love,
who is at the base of all things
and to begin to find
Life’s way of walking with
rather than so alone

but come
please
and lets walk together for a time
and let the real one
embrace us
in our stumbling attempts
at authenticity

come
our poem is not finished yet

promises

clarksapoet — Thu, 23 Sep 2010 13:10:19 +0000

So I’ve learned over some years, to listen for God’s promises to me. This began years ago, when I started following small promptings: to go to a conference I’d received an email piece for, to wrestle with Him over how prayer works (or not), to read through the book of Isaiah – over and over – nearly 12 times as I remember, and to do some foolish things I’d not tell anyone about because they seemed so silly and trivial. But I learned, much as a 2-year old does, by putting things in my mouth, by trying on clothes much too large for me, by picking up shiny pebbles I’d taken a liking to, I learned I was indeed much loved by a father, patient with my stumbling attempts at reaching out for him. Again, a 2 year old standing with arms upraised, wanting to be held, or carried.

I slowly learned to allow myself to say that God has indeed promised me specific things, and I have a notebook I continue to work on refining what I’ve heard, refining by walking out and trying small things on the way towards these promises. I’m honest with God about my fears and misgivings. He’s not particularly intimidated by my stumbling attempts at authenticity. He has been, and continues to be very patient, very kind in giving me feedback that “yes, I did mean it when I promised that you have my timing”. I get reminders in little ways, and increasingly large ways that indeed this or that promise still holds and is true. It has taken me all of my life to get this far. There are still “miles to go before I sleep, and God has promises to keep” and I look forward to moving on out through my current wilderness and into the next promises that remain incomplete.

promises

You have promised me so many things

You asked if I would be Your voice
and I said yes
and I say yes still, and again
teach me to walk in such speech

You called me as an intercessor
and now I see more of what that is
and say yes still to that call
give me the grace to walk it out

You called me a tall redwood
with places for many
in my branches
and yes, I’d like to do that
show me the way forward
give me the grace to follow you
into such a thing

You said Kings would seek out my wisdom
And this frightens me less than it did
I didn’t see it at all at first
I see glimpses now
but it’s a word from You, so
bring it to pass in its time
and give me the grace to be very present in it

and You promised more, some of which has occurred
or has at least begun
Thank you,
and draw it forward.
draw me forward into Your future
for me

clarksapoet@mac.com 9/18/05

I wonder

clarksapoet — Thu, 23 Sep 2010 13:05:58 +0000

I wonder
[ music ]

I wonder at motivation
at what kindles desire
on past
the blocks
of fear
or indifference

at what drives the small flame
to be ignored and die
or gently breathed
into full fire

I wonder at motivation
at what kindles desire
into faith
to step
past feelings
voting
with feet
carrying a heart bemused, confused
asleep to its own desires

I wonder at motivation
at what kindles desire
past the wondering doubt
that tosses magic beans
out the window
shaking its head
at such
utter foolishness
˚
I wonder at motivation
at what kindles desire
on past the blocks of fear or indifference

at what drives the small flame to be ignored and die
or gently breathed into full fire.

pieces

clarksapoet — Thu, 23 Sep 2010 13:02:32 +0000

I find when I begin something new, something completely new, that my old rules are rendered useless by this unknown new territory.
My understanding has nothing to work with. I am lost until I’ve wandered around sufficiently and met with my feet, much of the new ground. I have no maps I understand, no others to guide me until I have discovered a few stepping stones for myself. Each step forward by faith in this, my God journey, is like that. It takes me some time to have faith grow into hope and hope’s early understandings and then beyond into love where knowledge takes a deeper turn.

Pieces

I know pieces
in part
seeing dimly
each
one by one
with few links
between
until I’ve waited further
so I explore
knowing locally
awaiting a more global
understanding
walked
into being

clarksapoet@mac.com 6/08

blast mode

clarksapoet — Thu, 23 Sep 2010 12:58:11 +0000

I learn along the way sometimes, that things I held dear at an earlier point had well outlived their useful life with me. It takes some time to change. May I, may we, get better at it.

blast mode

I was taught
through years of coaches exhortations
to give 110%
to always try harder
quitting is never an option

so in college I hung a
“Clark Gets It Done”
heavy equipment ad
on my room door.
And when deadlines came
I’d go into overdrive
and blast through
and get it done

“Blast Mode”.
A try harder and harder ethic
it took me 20 years to undo

At 40,
playing lunch time basketball with a group of 20 somethings
I found I could rest while playing
and use my strengths and gifts more wisely
and in so doing
I could run as fast
score as many points,
and block their shots
without going into overdrive

With my endurance harder to come by
I learned the value of giving up
slowing down
centered in my strengths
my gifts
waiting in the midst of the hustle

I no longer had to know everything.
I no longer had to be stronger than everyone.
I no longer had to beat everyone at everything

faith conversations

clarksapoet — Thu, 23 Sep 2010 12:46:31 +0000

faith conversations

and a poem generated conversation, questions really, uncovering deep desires and accustomed ways of walking. I am wondering when it gets easier to walk this way, with faith allowing me (us) to walk away from familiar crying needs, and out into promises, and unknown explorations. This faith requires trust which mostly must be grown into, a small step at a time. Each bit of trust well sufficient for the step just taken, but not quite sufficient for the step we are about to risk.

So we all walk forward into our faith, whatever it is, whatever captures us. And at times we prune the trust tree of all branches that speak out against our faith, lest our faith be found out, be shown to be wrong or incomplete or broken. And this faith defines the skin that contains our universe, for better or worse, often remaining unnamed.

clarksapoet@mac.com 12/3/04

faith

is demonstrated
when a good friend
you trust
tells you something
you don’t believe

who then do you trust?
your friend?
your own belief?

where is your faith placed
when the belief you stepped out in faith for
(one way or another)
is demonstrated to
be false

what do these say
about who is
or is not
trustworthy

and
how does faith proceed
when proof
for or against
never comes?

clarksapoet@mac.com 7/21/08

odd

clarksapoet — Thu, 08 Jul 2010 11:30:11 +0000

isn’t it
how you don’t know the title
until after you’ve written the piece
and learned
in the journey
where you were going
and where you were headed
when you started out

My Calling(s)

clarksapoet — Thu, 08 Jul 2010 11:25:55 +0000

clarify
and I learn
to fly
solo

learning to fly

clarksapoet — Thu, 01 Jul 2010 13:11:06 +0000

Sometimes it takes desperation to breakthrough old familiar ways to learn to walk differently.
Me? I want to fly.

learning to fly

I desperately want
to walk on water
twice

beyond the one initial step of faith
that crumbles

first footing gained,
then lost
when the old ways reassert
making it clear
I will only hurt myself
in thinking
wishful, crazy, impossibilities

but the vision glimpse teases
from just beyond sight
just beyond my reach
and I keep walking
on passed doubt
to somehow ask
to somehow get back in that place of asking
for my return
when I take the 2nd
3rd and 4th steps
impossibly supported
on the waves above the depths
that block so completely all thoughts
of a way forward.

oh, to move from impossible surprised astonish
to a new familiar
making place
for the next faith glimpse
leading doubting feet
timid students
to learn to walk
to run
to fly

To Listen to Clark read this poem – click on the link in the title above, and hit the PLAY( “>”) button for “Learning to Fly” on the iacmusic page.