Love Came as a Child

For them that walk in starkness,
a lucid dream appears;
for them, a retreat from darkness
draws on the horizon and cheers.

Yea, there was a second and a third,
but when was spoke the first word,
that indeed was a concept: Love.
(Sung, as if from somewhere above.)

Then, held safe from all harms
as might lie in the wild,
from Labor to a mother’s arms,
Love came as a child.

Love, appearing as light,
thus cast darkness away
into new realms of night,
visible as shades of grey.

Abundant, how abundant,
and full, oh, so verily sooth:
Love, to all life incumbent,
our charge, our care, our truth.

What the shepherds saw,
what, to worship, sages sought:
loving care should be the flaw
to defy any, all, prizes bought.

The metaphor of the cattle stall,
is both the sermon and reminder:
A peaceable kingdom is here for all,
but only when we are in deed kinder. 

Love, as a child, came down—
Incarnate Love, we cannot shirk;
Life, Love’s cradle and crown
is, in every generation, our work.

© 2018 Elisabeth T. Eliassen

Dear Ones, 

My wish for you, now and always, is that Love be your most abundantly shared and greatest flaw. Imagine the epitaph: “Their one flaw was that they loved too deeply, too much…” May your days be filled with everything that can be shared with love and laughter; even hardship is soon overcome where Love is lively and at work. Many hands move the work forward, onward and upward. Blessings to all!

Meditations in Fast Times: 29. Since we were talking about words

Note to Readers: “Meditations in Fast Times” is a devotional writing experiment for the Season of Lent. Each day during the season, I am writing a poem as a meditation on, taking as my inspiration and intertextual basis, T.S. Eliot’s “Four Quartets”, as well as incorporating the daily office, current events, and other readings—some the same as those Eliot used while composing his seminal work and others.

                29.

Since we were talking about words, and words inspired us

    To perfect language and clarify understanding,

    To practice communication with using past and future,

Let me review the epic failure of that enterprise

    That we thought would bring us renown.

We spoke in tongues,
but not with the tongues of angels;
full of and with self,
we sought to be known communicants with the Divine,
rather than in community with other people,
and so our words fell flat,
spiraling downward into obscurity,
so lacking they were in music
or meaning

—if the trumpet sounds uncertainly,
how shall we understand the signal?

If we are to spread love,
it must be into the field of our life and action,
even if we never know the result of our labor.

Love of place cannot rank above love of people;
people are the servants of creation;
they are all the gardeners of Eden,
just as you are—this what memory taught me:

To be free, the self must be regularly emptied,

a sign of giving and receiving in equal measure;
emptiness is the sign of a life well spent,
regardless of any past or future claims.


Of all that I ever knew about language,
of all the words and ways,
I’d rather have just five words
that I could speak with compassion and love,
that I could be compassion and love,
that I could truly be,
and be so for everyone.

© 2014 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen

How To Give Thanks

Greet the morning sunlight,
both as friend and miracle.

Feel each footstep
as a handshake, as a greeting;

Know that every touch
is an engagement with All That Is.

The whole world is smiling at you;
smile back, with warmth and feeling.

Let the empty chair fill itself,
Keep your door open to opportunity.

Drink deeply from the well of possibility,
the source of the river of life.

Take a slice, accept your portion and be filled;
share with family, friends and those in need.

Respect the wonder of Earth’s vegetation,
medicine for our health and wellbeing.

Know that each conflict has built into it
an opportunity for healing and renewal;

Move beyond the frayed fabric,
find a proper loom for mending, and be glad.

The star-kissed wind blows through you;
sing praises, sing praises, sing praises!

Weave yourself into the earth;
it will be glad to accept you,

And offer you back, as a restorative gift,
to this world of wonder.

© 2013 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen

Three Strikes; You’re OUT at the Ole Ball Game!

I haven't written in a while. I apologize! I've been a little preoccupied.

***

When I was growing up, in the latter portion of the 20^th Century, I never played a team sport. Mostly, I wasn’t interested. I really didn’t have any friends who played team sports, although I have a vague recollection that there were organized baseball games held at the park I used to play in. They might have been Little League games—I don’t know. I think I watched a few, but it really didn’t hold any interest; I mostly hung out because they had a hotdog stand. The nearest thing I had to a “sport” was bicycling.

Fast forward to 21^st Century Parenthood. My twins are in middle school, and my son is nearing the end of his three-season Little League career. He started late, but developed pretty quickly into a decent ball player, jumping from AA into the Majors in his second year. My daughter, who had never expressed anything but boredom at being dragged to her brother’s games, suddenly decided this Spring she wanted to play softball. I am sure she was influenced by the example of her best friend, who has been playing for years.

My daughter went to the tryouts. She could catch, but not throw very well. She had not really done any batting to speak of, but managed to hit a few at the tryouts. She was put on a team with girls she had never met before, although she had seen a few of the older girls at school.

The most beautiful thing, indeed the very best thing, about the softball program in my town is that all of the practices and most of the games take place at a park that is literally across the street from my house. No driving. (Little League is another story…) So, my daughter would cross the street with her equipment bag for practices, and I could watch out the window or stroll over to watch, if I was at home.

My daughter would frequently come home from practices tearful and frustrated.

“Mom, I can’t do anything right!”

“Dear, you are just getting started. That is why you practice! So that you can improve.”

“The coaches keep telling me all these different things. The tell me I am not in the right place on the field, and then I move, and later they tell me to move back to where I was!”

Well, not having been a ball player, I couldn’t offer a response to that. So, I decided to go watch what they were doing. I sat through some practices. I watched the drills. I listened to what the coaches said. Finally, a scrimmage with another team was announced. It was then called off, due to rain. And it rained and rained and rained. Our fields were closed, our practices postponed. (sigh)

Once the rainy season decided to end, practices resumed. Then, the first game came and went. It was a disaster. The girls didn’t know how to read the coaches signals, the in-field didn’t know how cover their positions or how they should back up other positions. A few girls could hit, but not others. No one could really slide. There wasn’t any communication or cheering going on. I won’t tell you what the score was.

[And here is the truth about scores: Scores don’t matter. I figured that it was good that my daughter was outside, getting some fresh air and exercise. I didn’t really expect much more than that.]

After a few more disappointing games and practices, that I watched closely, I could see that there was a bit of a misunderstanding, involving the way the coaches would tell the players to move on the field. I had figured out something fundamental to team strategy: Once the coaches have seen the opposing players at bat, they have an idea what that player can do, and they try to remember and use that knowledge to reposition their fielders to better advantage.

“Mom, I can’t do anything right! I want to quit.” She came banging in the door, crying, one afternoon.

“What happened?”

“The coaches kept yelling at me to move to different places. First I had to move back, then forward, then way over to the side!”

“Sweetheart, let me explain what they are doing.” And I told her what I had figured out, summing it up with, “so you weren’t in the wrong spot. The coach was moving you to a new correct spot, every time.”

That made sense to her. It is so funny that something like that never gets spelled out for anyone but the pitcher and the catcher, but there you have it.

After that, it was a matter of improving on her batting and getting better with her throw, and remembering what area her position covered and what position she had to back up. They worked with the girls on sliding into bases. Turned out Emily was a natural at it! The coach nicknamed her “Slick” and had her demonstrate for the other girls. Pretty soon, I was hearing her little voice piping from the field with how many outs there were and where the next play was. The girls started cheering each other at bat more.

As I watched them during their practices, I realized that baseball and softball, and probably all team sports, require you to be both conscious in the moment of what is happening and also to think forward into the realm of possibility—to be aware of what must be done at the individual level in the now, as well as think through possible consequences of your actions on your teammates in the next moment. WOW!!

And again, I say:  WOW! Who knew?

The team continued to have a lack-luster season, but they did win a few games, and that lifted everyone's spirits.

Finally, the playoff game dates arrived. I thought we would be out of it immediately.

Here is what was written about Playoff Game #1:

5/29 Playoff Game #: Diamonds-In-The-Rough 10 – Good Sports 9

Possibly the most exciting game of the season! No scoring until the 3rd, when K.C. made it home for the Diamonds. Pitcher B.L. and catcher S.W. shut down the Good Sports’ chances, allowing one runner on, later tagged out at 3rd. Top of 4th, G. O. scored a 2nd run, leading with a strong double. Team B.L. and S.W. foiled Good Sports’ at bat. Diamonds were unable to score at the top of 5th, when Good Sports powered home 5. Diamonds shook it off with runs by G.O., A.G., B.L, K.C. and E.N. Good Sports brought it up to 9. S.W. and A.G. scored in the 7th to tie it up. Pitcher G.O. and catcher S.W. shut the Good Sports down 1-2-3. International tiebreaker was called. K.C. broke the tie. G.O. struck out one Good Sport, but it was a fabulous double-play, with A.G.’s in-field throw to K.C., and K.C.’s quick throw to S.W., taking out runners at 1st and home, that closed out this sensational game.

We who watched the game were beside ourselves! That was a fantastic game! Like the light switch had come on, and the Diamonds were really a team now!!

So, they had one more playoff game. When we found out who our girls were playing, we thought, oh, well. They were just up against the first ranked, undefeated team, of course!

(sigh)

Here is what was written about Playoff Game #2:

5/31 Playoff Game #2: Diamonds-In-The-Rough 9 – Expulsion 8

Another exciting win for the Diamonds! No scoring until top of the 2nd, when B.L. was driven home by E.N. Expulsion tied it up with one at the bottom of the inning. Diamonds got no traction at the top of the 3rd, and Pitcher G.O. was hit off of by three Expulsion batters, but the first two ground out at first and the third popped a fly caught by 2nd base-girl E.D. Top of 4th, Expulsion bobbled K.C.’s single into a triple, and G.O. slammed one deep to bring her home. A.G. also scored. B.L., on the mound, and S.W., at the plate, held back Expulsion with one strike and two batters ground out. In the 5th, the Diamonds did not score, but B.L. and S.W. held off Expulsion with a double-play assist from K.C. at first base. No scoring in the 6th. Top of 7th, G.O. and A.G. scored again, owing to Expulsion fielding troubles and a line drive from E.N. Not to be outdone, Expulsion took swift action, confounding Pitcher G.O. with 7 batters, three of whom scored, tying the game at 5-5. The exciting and decisive 8th inning found C.Z., V.S., K.C. and B.L. making it home. Expulsion battled forward with two more runs before a third strike ground their season to a halt.

You cannot imagine the scene. Our girls were screaming with joy. The other team’s chins hit the ground and their coaches looked like thunder. The stands were full of family and friends of our team, figuring it was the Diamonds' last game. Everyone bounced out of their seats and surrounded the girls. WOW!!

And again, I say:  WOW! Who knew?

The undefeated first place team had just been upset by the fifth place team. The fifth place team was now going to the championship!!!

This was the shot heard around the league! (And believe me when I tell you it was HUGE news and that parents and kids in lower divisions were talking about it for days.)

As you can imagine, it was an unbelievable victory and we were all full of joy. The underdogs sometimes get to shine!

Now, I won’t hold you back from the end of the story: The Diamonds lost the championship, having to settle for 2^nd Place.

Isn’t that wonderful?

Well, take it from me: that’s wonderful.

(Whew! The season is finally OVER!)

Face to Face

What moon bedecks

with glistening gems by night,
sunrise blesses
with animate light,
opening life’s blossom
out into its symphony of
petals, pollens and particles,
all being face to face
with that divine center
of creative foment
our slant-wise roll
records as moment
of eternal awakening.

© 2011 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen

My exegesis of Buddha's Flower Sermon.

Fine Sound

Through each vibration,

the universe
is intoned and out-toned,
tuned and healed—renewed!
—so that, glowing with vibrance,
we may blossom and delight
in the myriad company of
all the invisible gems of tone,
by which Fine Sound
is delivered to all voice hearers
and those who observe
sounds of the world
as music.

© 2011 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen

This my summary of the last chapter of Roll Seven of the Lotus Sutra. 
Which is to say that this is not what it says, but what it says to me.

Trignosis 3.

3. visions

from the garden,
echoes of a faded music
round the corner of forgetting

the tapestry of being
unfurls before me,
as if it could be mine
and of my making

and so I sing,
I sing to the beauties of being
and the words tumble out
like colored threads
to dazzle
and then
to darn themselves
into the warp and woof
of continuity

do I truly see,
or is it that I flow
as a thread among
the seas and seams?

from the garden,
echoes of a fading song
round of the corner of forgetting

perhaps I should enter there,
and follow

© 2011 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen