Posted by Don Merritt on January 16, 2017, in Christian Life
“Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirit.You should not be surprised at my saying, ‘You must be born again.’ The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.”
Something to think about. Beyond that, what can I say?
Jessica , the reject, I found her on the garbage tip,
In a garbage bag, she smelled, did she,
I thought I’d found a skunk, I did.
At first I did not know t’was she,
Until I heard this whine..
My name is Jessica and I’m a reject!
Jessica, I said, now who are you?
And what is this tip to you? Said I.
It is my only home, said she, and I’ve been here so long.
A skunk, I am, a reject too,
I stink and no one wants me, they don’t!
My name is Jessica and I need love.
A reject cannot need love, I said, because even love rejects.
Love rejects the painful one, the one who will not
Suffer love to love and let it be.
Jessica, I said, I can love you even if on this tip you stay.
Yet all my love is wasted until you can love you!
But I/m a reject, she said, how can I love garbage.
So on this tip I’ll stay, she said, until the World loves me!
The World might love you, the sun might caress you,
Even the Moon, in gentle femaleness might kiss your face.
Yet until you love yourself, accept you as you are ,
Then even all of this will bind you as a miasma,
Of mist within your self rejected Self.
Come down from there! You Skunk, you dirty reject you.
Claim the love that self respect will give.
Walk tall upon this Earth.
Jessica Elizabeth Blair!
I call you woman,
I call you friend.
"Ismailism pioneered the most daring metaphysical thought in Islam. Its voice, at once original and traditional, should be heard again today -- a task of which it seems that the young Ismā‘īlīs are aware." (Henry Corbin)
"He brought me to his banquet hall and raised the banner of love over me. Restore my strength with raisins and refresh me with apples! I am weak from passion... His left hand is under my head and his right hand caresses me" - Song of Solomon 2:4-6