The Seasons of the Soul

The Transformative Way

My soul is a wasteland…

I remember when my soul was young

I was bowered then beneath sentinel trees

and watched over by mothering stars

endless it seemed that mystical springtime 

– when my soul was young.

But I played before you as a pampered babe

demanding my every want and need

I did not know the sun would sear

the tender grass and verdant reed 

– not knowing the seasons of the soul.

From your barren soil

I will bring forth a vine

and from the vine a flower

and from the flower- seed.  

My soul is an empty well…

I remember the deepening of the rift

come as a blessing on a day of thirst

when suddenly as from a mighty blow

the rock was struck, and water flowed.

But I played before you in the ebbing wash

and dumbly watched as the water slowed

I continued to play as the vessel drained

and did not ask where the water flowed 

– not knowing the seasons f the soul.

        From your dried-up spring

        I will cause streams to flow

        and from the streams, a river

        and from. the river, a mighty flood. 

My soul is a house in darkness…

I remember the coming of the light as 

one accustomed to the fearsome dark

great wonder by that awesome glow

to see at last and comprehending, know.

But I continued to play before you

in selfish joy never asking how or why

I continued to play in the fading light

unmindful of the storm-tossed sky 

– not knowing the seasons of the soul.

        From your darkened house

        I will send forth a flare 

        and from within the flare, light

        and the light will be a sign.

My soul is a stone rejected…

I remember as a shard of broken rubble

being lifted-up for all to see, and blinded

by this stroke of great good fortune

made no recompense or finder’s fee.  

And I played before you as the builder’s child

careless of my royal name. I disavowed the

warning quakes that shook the portal’s frame

my soul like a capstone broke and falling 

– not knowing the seasons of the soul.  

        With the stones of your desolation

        I will build a bridge, and from the bridge

        a causeway where you and others, safe

        and secure, can journey back to Me.