A Resurrection Story

We cried with you
We died with you
It’s when I go high with you
That I get you. (Romans 6:8)
Buried deep in my consciousness
The lie’s exposed
You are not where they say you are. (Acts 17:24)
You’re with the least of those. (Matthew 25:40)
You’re not trapped by religion
You want our eyes to see clearly
I will only know your heart
If I bring my enemies near me. (Matthew 5:44)
“They’re lying to you”
That’s what you say in a whisper.
“That’s why I told the Truths
To the Prodigal Sister” (John 4:1-26)
“So, close your eyes and you’ll find me.”
“See what’s ahead by rewinding.”
“I came for Re-minding
That it’s all in the TIMING.” (Ephesians 1:7-10)
“What I bring,
Is whatever’s always PRESENT.”
“But the moment that you’re ‘born’,
Is the moment you forget it.” (James 1:22-25)
“Yet, I can’t let it
Be the end of the story.”
“That’s why every time you need me,
I will die for your GLORY.”
“The REAL story
Is that we have always been.”
“But, I’m the only One who died.”
“So we can forever RISE AGAIN.” (Colossians 1:18)
“When I win when,
There’s no loss that ever happened.”
“Eternity ABIDES
DISSOLVING the time that you’re trapped in.” (Psalm 90)
“Just keep asking
Until you see through the Illusion.”
“When Creator’s All in ALL
THERE’S NO EXCLUSION IN INCLUSION.” (1 Corinthians 15:27-28)
“THEY’RE LYING TO YOU.”
This time You say it in a scream.
So now I can’t go back to sleep
Once I was awakened in the DREAM. (1 Thessalonians 5:6-10)
“I’m dying to you.”
“So you can reflect on my rejection.
“But in your fear of getting hurt,
You project for your protection.”
“I see you’re missing the connection.
So here’s the deal.
Death is a lie.
But, the RESURRECTION’S REAL.” (Acts 24:10-16)
“And, I know how you feel.
It’s somewhat disconcerting.
To keep your eye on the prize
When your inner me’s hurting.”
“But, I know this for certain
The pain is temporary.
While the JOY LASTS FOREVER.
If you just let the Truth carry. (Romans 8:18)
And it’s no longer scary
Once your heart’s consumed
By RESURRECTION’S REVELATION
That YOU’RE THE OPEN TOMB (1 Peter 1:10-12)

You can also listen to this poem on Pedro’s Poetry Podcast on your favorite platforms.

©️ Copyright 2021 Pedro S. Silva II

This is only the second time in my life that I can remember not going to a church service on Easter and the only time in 10 years that I wasn’t part of leading a worship service. When I woke up automatically before sunrise and started talking to Yeshua, (I think I might stop saying Jesus so much. At least in my inner dialogue.) I asked the question, “What is something new I could learn about the Resurrection?” What came into my heart immediately was, “You all are meant to see yourselves as the Empty Tomb.” My eyes started to tingle and glisten as I let that awareness sink into my heart. I then asked myself why we don’t think of ourselves that way. The above poem was the answer that came to me. I hope it blesses you as it blessed me.

Photo by Bruno van der Kraan on Unsplash

When Time Touches Eternity

Today would’ve been my grandmother’s 97th birthday. The poem at the bottom was written for her funeral after I asked, “Grandma, what are you feeling right now?”

The Roofless Church

C.S. Lewis said that “The present is that point when time touches eternity.” He also said, “There is no other day. All days are present now. This moment contains all moments.” I think about this often when I feel tempted to go either too far into imagining illusory possible future scenarios or trying to makes sense out of something that has seemed to have happened in the clouded so called past.

If you are one that pays attention to innuendo then you probably noticed that I used the words “illusory” when talking about the future and “clouded” when talking about the past. To be direct, I used those words because I consider them both suspect. Think about it. Where do most anxieties come from? Answer: Projections of an illusory future or interpretations of a clouded past. This is unarguable. Though I am sure that some people will try to find…

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I Am From Here, Nowhere, and Now Here

I’m from “Daddy’s not coming back.” on my 2nd Christmas
And my first prayer to God that taught me “no” is an answer too.
I’m from the smell of mothballs when we moved in with Grandma
And toast with melted Mozzarella on top
I’m from the “Daily Bread” Bible verses she made us read before every meal
And the Family Bible that had my Dad’s name in it even if he wasn’t there to read it to me.
I’m from sneaking into the children’s ward of the hospital to see my little brother
And Uncle Willy making a funny sound with his mouth to let me know he was here to pick me up.
I’m from a 21 gun salute at my grandfather’s funeral,
The sound shaking my body, the smoke rising as if it were going to join my grandfather in heaven, and the warm hands of Granddaddy’s friend covering my ears telling me that I don’t need to cry.
And I’m from the broken promise of that last tear that I told myself I would never let fall again.
I’m from both sides of the tracks–
Struggling during the school year
Financially secure in the summer.
Black experience with my mom’s family
And a minority in my father’s household
Rendering me too Black and never Black enough for some folks.
I’m from a Black mom, a white stepmom, and an immigrant dad who was both and neither and my identity formed in the Void.
I’m from sitting in the dark in that mothball closet fussing with God about all that had been taken from me
And a peace that surpasses all understanding that told me nothing God gives is ever lost.
I’m from going to the Deacon Board at age 6 and asking to be baptized before the age of accountability
And their warning that if I backslid and sinned after my immersion the penalty of eternal damnation was on me.
I’m from childlike confidence that I could live a sin free life.
So I submitted to the capable hands of Pastor Fleming who joked with me up to the baptismal tub, said the words that made me new, and lowered me into the water.
I’m from the awareness that sin abounds, but grace abounds more.
I’m from:
Countless hours alone,
Making best friends with books,
Corn flakes for multiple meals,
Never knowing what utility might get cut off,
The smell of a borrowed kerosene heater, and my mom, brother, and me all sleeping around it.
I’m from respites when the income tax check came.
From a mother who did her best but was broken by a life of endless stress.
I’m from being a Black man in America
Trying to learn to live without looking over my shoulder because Black Lives Matter and absence from the body is presence with the Lord.
I’m from not knowing where I belong
But trusting that I am welcome wherever God is.
I’m from not wanting anyone to go through what I’ve been through
Because to me this is loving neighbor as myself.
I’m from still being that little boy trying to not cry unless I know that someone cares.
I’m from losing a child to racism in a way that makes my face warm to think about
And at the end of a broken heart, trying to become a car selling monk.
From a woman who entered my life through an email and ended my monastic aspirations.
I’m from having a child at 32 and 41 when I expected to have none.
I’m from a house full of emotions that I lived a lifetime trying to avoid.
I’m from trying to be the father I never had and the husband my mother never had so that I can be the man God created me to be.
I’m from that baptismal tub that eternally abides making me new each day
And from laughing with people who know similar suffering.
And I am from the words of Jesus that said, “If you want to follow me, take up your cross and bear it.”
I am from all of this and more.
And I am from grace,
Inexhaustible grace,
The Pearl of Great Price for which I count all things as loss so that one day I will learn to receive everything that truly matters.
This is where I’m from.
Where are you from?

© Copyright 2020 Pedro S. Silva II

This poem was written in response to a writing prompt in a retreat on calling with Karen Herring sponsored through First Congregational Church Boulder. It is based on the poem “Where I’m From” by George Ella Lyon.

Eye of the Be Holder

We think that we see clearly. But we often just see the projection of other people’s past at the forefront of our awareness. In other words we programmed to see what we were taught to see.

The Roofless Church

Have you ever seen a cygnet? A cygnet is a baby swan. And they are super cute. And yet, when we talk of people who blossom into a more physically beautiful being than one may have imagined, we say that they were an “ugly duckling”, based on the tale by that name created by Hans Christian Anderson.

I find it hard to imagine that someone reading this hasn’t heard of this story. But, in the off chance that you haven’t, the story is basically about a swan whose egg falls in with some duck eggs. And when the egg hatches, all the little ducks freak out because this one duck, which is actually a swan, doesn’t look like the others. So they do what any anthropomorphized duck would do, they start seeing the worst in the little cygnet. There’s no sense of wonder or compassion. There’s only, “You don’t look…

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New Me #BLM Cut – Pedro Silva (featuring the Voices of the Movement)

New Me #BLM Cut – Pedro Silva (featuring the Voices of the Movement)

They can’t kill me
Holla if you feel me
Who I am was never born
So you never getting near me

Here’s the Truth
We don’t need your proof (approval)
Mustard seed of juice
And the mountains will go poof

To be the new me
I had to kill the old me
To wake up from this lie bruh,
This is what they told me

Wake up from the dream
Death ain’t nothing but a bee sting
Hallelujah’s what we sing
From the moment we see that real thing

In loving memory of:

#ChristianCooper
#AhmaudArbery
#BothamJean
#AtatianaJefferson
#JonathanFerrell
#RenishaMcBride
#StephonClark
#JordanEdwards
#JordanDavis
#AltonSterling
#AiyanaJones
#MikeBrown
#TamirRice
#Charleston9
#TrayvonMartin
#SeanBell
#OscarGrant
#SandraBland
#PhilandoCastile
#CoreyJones
#JohnCrawford
#TerrenceCrutcher
#KeithScott
#CliffordGlover
#ClaudeReese
#RandyEvans
#YvonneSmallwood
#AmadouDiallo
#WalterScott
#EricGarner
#FreddieGray
#BreonnaTaylor
#GeorgeFloyd

And all those lost to the silence.

#RestinPower
#BlackLivesMatter

The song is available for download an all major digital platforms like iTunes, Amazon Music, Spotify etc.

Video produced by Katrina Dawn Miller https://www.blackatvideoproductions.com/

Song mixed by Prasanna Bishop
https://akashicrecording.com/

God’s Plan

it started in the beginning
it ended in the beginning
the Peace and the war
the losing and the Winning
the time we have to wait
the weight that comes with time
the Word and the verse
the pentameter and the rhyme
the Hope for a better tomorrow
than the way things are today
the separation from God
and the recollection when we Pray
the anger and the rage
that makes me hate my fellow man
and the Forgiveness of all error
that makes me want to hold Their hand
the slavery that freed me
and the freedom that was my prison
the Light that was so blinding
that it made clear my true vision
the death I had to suffer
to see that I was Alive
the Love that is more Perfect
than all that man’s contrived
all that I will overcome
that led me to come over
to the Answer that’s so close
that it can’t get any closer
the doubt that made me Trust
that there’s Nothing I should doubt
and the Silence that’s so deafening
it drowned out all my shouts
my enemies who hate me
that I may know the Love of my friends
and the Salvation I received
because I committed all those sins
so when it comes to God’s Plan
there’s only One thing we need to know
this world was already Perfect
before our struggle to make it so

As I am exploring this idea of God’s plan—and I’m not using that term as it is conventionally used—I am being in wonder about how I can fix my perception so that I am not distracted from a knowing that there is an underlying perfection to All That Is. I realize that living into this will take an act of radical surrender. But that’s the Seeker’s Way. So…

There is an underlying perfection to all things.
(Click Image to hear more.)

Mind-jacking

I was robbed by an elderly woman

I didn’t see it coming

It hurts. But I don’t want to tell my friends

Because I know they’ll think it’s funny

So I decided to tell my plumber

Since he has a doctorates degree

But he said, “I’m a surgeon. Not a psychologist.”

“But I know who you should see.”

“There’s this woman at the burger joint who has a Nobel Prize.

She can help you with your trauma

And it comes with a bunch of fries.”

Well you can’t beat that kind of offer

So I grabbed a corner booth

Ordered a burger with cheddar cheese

And an extra side of truth

What she said was so revealing

It nearly “blue” my mind

She said I chose that woman to carjack me

To free me from my confines

In the world sold by deceivers

All of the robbers look like me

And victims look like an old white lady

That we’re programmed to believe

Even when I’m innocent

There’s guilt all on my face

Due to messaging that I’m a predator

Displayed in every place

It’s so bad that when I hear of crimes

Even I think it might be me

And I was in the bathroom when the crime went down

So I know it couldn’t be

But when they hold back the image of the perpetrator

I know they weren’t someone of color

It’s all a part of the marketing plan

To make us fear each other

In reality we don’t commit more crime

And the impact of them’s small

Compared to criminals who steal entire countries

Resources, people, and all

But that’s not the point I’m trying to make

I just want you to scratch your head

And be curious instead of always judging

You can’t always trust where you’ve been led

© Copyright 2018 Pedro S. Silva II

Department of Justice Statistics Disprove Racist Talking Points
https://www.colorlines.com/articles/3-stats-department-justice-disprove-racist-talking-points-crime

 

Damaged Goods

Your stories need to be told
This is something I can’t deny
But I don’t want to go where they’re taking me
And I’m afraid to tell you why

Yes, I thank you for your bravery
Still I can’t escape the shame
But through forgiveness I can take another step
Yet, it still can’t dull the pain

I want to keep this to myself
After all this is your hour
God grant me the ears I need to hear
So I can listen to your power

Sacrificed at culture’s altar
I can admit they hate your voice
That’s why I don’t want that to be me too
So I try to suppress my choice

But every time I do it
It’s like something in me dies
It seems there’s no love for the middle path
When the world is choosing sides

So today I am choosing you
I can have my day tomorrow
Just know that my silence I’m speaking now
Doesn’t mean I have no sorrow

While I might not say all that I can
It doesn’t mean I’m ignoring you
Some men just don’t know how to say the words,
”I have a story too.”

© 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