Death Is Not a Failure

We all succeed at dying

One way or the other

Despite the value we place on holding it back

We have this in common with one another

Even Jesus couldn’t escape it

Though we say it’s a revolving door

He begged if the cup of death could pass

How much less should we implore?

For the living’s only reality

Is to live, and be, and move

Death appearing a contradiction

What can we gain

For all we lose?

Yet, Death is not an ending

Not a new beginning or a door

Nor does it ever take from us

Or give the peace we’re longing for

All we think it is it isn’t

Because we lack the point of view

To see it for what it really is,

We need a different mind to see it through.

One not born through separation

One complete in its perception

One that sees all things for what they are

Present wholeness without rejection

Such a mind must not fear death

In fact it’s grateful for its inclusion

For the only Death there ever is

Is the Death of our illusions

© Copyright 2018 Pedro S. Silva II

Stillness Speaks

Out of the stillness emerges the Voice that calls us each by our true name

And every name is Beloved

Mistaken identities are replaced

Forgotten callings are restored

The darkness that hinders light is broken through

And what is revealed makes all things new

Peace has always reigned

On the surface waves are crashing, but they are held up by still waters.

© Copyright 2018 Pedro S. Silva II

Maker in the Middle

In the center of all things

Is the One Who is All

From the infinitely large

To the infinitely small

Nowhere not the center

Even that which you call edge

Split the atom and there is fullness

There’s no space that you can hedge

There is no private matter

As far as matter is concerned

In fact matter doesn’t matter

Once it’s spiritually discerned

Reality is Oneness

This thought called two has never been

It’s the illusion of separation

Denying the truth of what’s within

We live, move, and have our being

In the One Place all things Be

Once we receive the “I” that sees this

There’s nothing ever more to see

© Copyright 2018 Pedro S. Silva II

 

The Soul You Rob Is Your Own

Eyes filled with tears

Heart so full

Can’t say it’s spilled milk

Seeing all this bull

Everywhere soul robbers

Work to dig our graves

Offer carrot stick freedom

Keep us unseen slaves

Two faced leaders

Both mouths lie

Stick those needles

In the public eye

So we see nothing

But we don’t know why

Place our hopes in the illusion

They are on our side

But what I see lately

Merely comes to this

In a win-lose world

Someone will be missed

And in a rank based system

You know who it’ll be

Those who don’t pass muster

And those who look like me

But my tears aren’t for pity

For those who play that role

It’s for those who kill worlds

Trying to find their souls

Because in the grand scheme of things

Nothing’s here for the keeping

This is a seed planting realm

So we can live our own reapings

Forever!

© Copyright 2018 Pedro S. Silva II

 

 

 

 

The Visitation – Being a Healing Presence

In our spiritual community at First Congregational Church Boulder, UCC some of our members are reading a small book called, The Art of Being a Healing Presence. Those of us reading it, are part of a small group of people who are choosing to heed the call to embody a healing presence with community members who are open to our invitation. Over the months that we’ve been meeting, my heart has increasingly found joy in our time together encouraging each other as we discover the gift of Visitation together. I wrote the following poem to/for them to both express appreciation for their gifting of themselves and to remind them that when we are being present, every moment counts.

The Visitation
It was only for a moment
It was here and it was gone
But when they think of the Visitation
The Presence lingers on

Breaking into Time-space
Eternity in half an hour
When two or more gather here
We’ve invited in the Power

Never underestimate,
What a moment can unfold
A single earthly encounter
A lasting balm for the soul

You were called to bring the Presence.
Being is what you do.
Giving form to the Love,
That preceded me and you

© Copyright 2018 Pedro S. Silva II

Matthew 18:20
“For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.”

Repairers of the Breach

There is nowhere God is not
Even in what doesn’t last
God gives all things a future
And is not shackled by the past

In our weakness strength is known
And through it we know each other
So through it we are all made One
Each a sister and a brother

So let us see our humanness
Through the eyes of the One who made it
That we might be repairers of the breach
For the world we’ve co-Created

© Copyright 2018 Pedro S. Silva II

If There Was Anything Left Unsaid

Image result for writing on paper

If there was anything left unsaid,
Let the Silence speak for me
For it is filled with more than words
And more than eyes can see

If there is anything you still wonder
Trust that knowledge comes with time
As long as you are open
There’ll be answers you can find

If ever there’s a question
Learn there’s still things we can’t know
But just because they’re not explained
Doesn’t mean that they’re not so

Sometimes we just don’t have the words
For the things we want to say
And some of us are here and now
We’d rather do than stop to pray

© Copyright 2018 Pedro S. Silva II

 

We Are Born In the Moments

quotes324Below is a poem written by my 9 year old daughter, Calista, a sensitive soul and one of my best friends ever. I say that because I can relate to her more than I can relate to most people. I guess it is similar to my relationship with my own mother. Our relationship transcends familial bonds. In a lot of ways I think if we were to relate to one another simply in that way, it would actually place a limitation on our ability to learn and grow together. Of course I respect my mother according to certain societal prescriptions and I ask the same of my daughter for me.

However, from a spiritual perspective, I understand that I cannot limit our ability to teach one another simply because my mother was born before me and I was born before my daughter. After all, we are more than simply these corporeal expressions traveling through time. The greater part of us is eternal–beyond time and therefore each of us has at our disposal access to the infinite wisdom of our Source, our Creator with whom we eternally. From this perspective, as one whose ideal is to live a life that expresses the “On Earth as it is in Heaven” design, I’d be a fool not to see every being as a potential gateway to greater awareness of God’s grace and revelation.

C.S. Lewis said:

“For the Present is the point at which time touches eternity. Of the present moment, and of it only, humans have an experience analogous to the experience which [God] has of reality as a whole; in it alone freedom and actuality are offered them. He would therefore have them continually concerned either with eternity or with the Present–either meditating on their eternal union with, or separation from, Himself, or else obeying the present voice of conscience, bearing the present cross, receiving the present grace, giving thanks for the present pleasure.”

I believe that this is the essence of what Calista’s poem conveys and it is to this awareness that I am convicted. Children are very present centered beings. If what Brother Lewis is saying is accurate–and I believe it is–then this aspect of how they encounter the world is precisely why Jesus said that the entrance to the kingdom must be approached as a child.

When seduced by the illusion of temporality, we place a premium on chronological order–the first is the first and the last is the last. In realm of the eternal the first can be the last and the last can be the first, what once was may never be and what has never been can be, and the beginning and the end are One.  I say this to say that the Divine Order is not limited to linearity. Thus is the way of the eternal. And so in this moment out of which I am being reborn, I am hoping to follow my daughter in remembering that I too am from the moments where I am most present.

Where I’m From

by Calista Monterra FitzSilva

I am from my little sister’s sweet little giggles
when I tickle her and her big smiles,
Her brown eyes as brown as a grizzly bear’s fur.
I am from my little sister pulling my hair
And trying to talk and crying over her pacifier

I’m from my mom’s sweet banana bread
Warm out of the oven, the steam rising
The chocolate chips melt into chocolate sauce.
I’m from my grandmother’s magnificent apple pie on Thanksgiving eve.
And the fluffy pancakes she makes when I visit her and my grandpa

I am from the sweet apple cider we sipped
before we skied down the mountain in Boston, Massachusetts
I would fly down the mountain, woosh!
The wind blowing in my face.

I am from the salty air of Aruba
as the ocean splashes up on me and soaks me
I am from early Christmas mornings
when the outside world is cold and damp
I’m from climbing the huge rock in my cousin’s backyard
and finding shiny rocks

I am from these moments.

© Copyright 2017 Pedro Silva and Calista FitzSilva

Into Your Hands

Into Your hands I commit my spirit
Because I won’t endure this lie
This prison system cannot be True
Built on the illusion that we must die

Death’s nothing more or less than a doorway
Or when a movie changes scenes
Different characters embody roles
But there’s just One Dreamer of these dreams

Yet somehow we’ve conceived to deny this
Even though it makes no sense
In the beginning there was always One
And there only has been ever since.

I struggle everyday to express this
To live wholly in Your call
Knowing that I’m denying One
If I can’t see You in All

This is the fruit of religious life
Bonding body and mind to soul
Forsaking the separate self that never was
And abandoning false control

This is when the journey ends
We’ve found the only thing worth finding
And teaching each other is no longer done
We simply trust in Your reminding

This is what I live this Life for
Every other way must be undone
My spirit in the hands of the All in All
Completes what never had begun

© Copyright 2017 Pedro S. Silva II

The Way of All Flesh

There is a path that all flesh must take
We’ve always known this from the start
It’s the very awareness of this fact
That reveals the nature of our heart

For the spirit of immortality
Wrestles with the ways of form
Tempting us with corporeality
As if it were the norm

There are hearts that surrender to this way
As long as we are here
While other hearts struggle with time itself
Certain that eternity is near

The struggling heart will not surrender
It crams eternity into space
Living life with all it has
And in its wake leaves waves of grace

It knows the way that flesh must go
But it and flesh are not the same
And on that day when the two must part
It receives that which is its to gain

© Copyright 2016 Pedro S. Silva II

bruce-2The poem above was written by request for the Rev. Bruce MacKenzie Pastor Emeritus of the church I serve in Boulder, CO. “The way of all flesh” was a saying Bruce loved to say when referring to anything that is temporary in this world. At one visit I had with him before his passing he said to me,  “Soon I will be going the way of all flesh, but you and I know that is nothing to be concerned with. So no tears.” I said to him, “Well we teach that Jesus wept when Lazarus died and he was just about to resurrect him, so I cry when you leave.” He laughed at that and changed the subject.  Bruce’s body might have gone the way of all flesh. But though the outer man is beyond our seeing, the inner man remains eternally abiding.