tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45004366131844002012012-01-15T21:19:03.448-08:00Contemplation and the Arts.Jon Boatwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478148718630096598noreply@blogger.comBlogger181100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500436613184400201.post-10486793987893259662012-01-15T21:19:00.000-08:002012-01-15T21:19:03.455-08:00

I have come to give myselfNot to be someoneI have come for lifeNot for statusI am here for you and invite you to meI have come neither to love nor to be lovedbut because of LoveThat great mysterious sea into which we disappearand drown voluntarily or not at all

Jon Boatwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478148718630096598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500436613184400201.post-35641241717799813332011-05-07T23:17:00.000-07:002011-05-07T23:17:03.877-07:00

Trouble yourself no more, my child Rest yourself in your dreams Worry no more over your pretends Life is not as it seems You dreamed your life was marked in gold Precious as anything can be But time has revealed more of a stone The weight of worth has deceived Trouble yourself no more, my child Rest yourself in your dreams Worry no longer you know not how it ends And you know not now what it is

Jon Boatwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478148718630096598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500436613184400201.post-24828920970713940822011-05-07T22:50:00.000-07:002011-05-07T22:50:30.377-07:00

When man admits that he just needs to be loved then there is silence.  He has opened the gate of heaven.  When he then says that he now needs to love he then becomes that which he was seeking.

Jon Boatwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478148718630096598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500436613184400201.post-55003029329587581282011-01-22T23:33:00.000-08:002011-01-22T23:33:12.739-08:00

O but if stones could fly Would I wonder at them in the sky Have I lost all mystery To see the world as children see To see the world as children see And from a death to rise again A certain death secures the soul Of he who knows from which he's born In the desire to contemplate the All And return to the silence of God There begins the little way Found within each common day

Jon Boatwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478148718630096598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500436613184400201.post-18613019740012053542011-01-22T23:23:00.000-08:002011-01-22T23:23:18.804-08:00

Light unspeakable Hides behind everything Hides within all things Engulfing the world This I know If it is ever unleashed If it ever lets go Even the sun will be consumed

Jon Boatwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478148718630096598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500436613184400201.post-77193372783637213912011-01-22T23:21:00.000-08:002011-02-21T21:15:47.233-08:00

I came upon Mystery while walking in the woods one day I stood there on soft leaves Still wet from the early morning rain It didn't move as I approached Though it seemed aware When I got so close that it should feel me breathe I saw that it was really gone Like a fog It's traces were itself

Jon Boatwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478148718630096598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500436613184400201.post-91683297007120162592011-01-22T23:13:00.000-08:002011-01-22T23:13:32.832-08:00

There's a light in the shadowsWhere I used to standAnd it shines so brightlyFor this shadow man Did I ever belong here I'm just lost in timeBut they still call meI'm the shadow man And I never dreamed that I would have seen the things I have seenThe crazy ways that life gets lived on the "in between"And the moments we piece together in the name of dreamsBut take me awayThis is for real There's a

Jon Boatwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478148718630096598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500436613184400201.post-64495039471234153832011-01-22T22:59:00.000-08:002011-01-22T22:59:37.389-08:00

Raging lives, breaking waves That crash upon peaceful shores They have rushed in headfirst in their ways And bowed at the feet of the earth But who can blame them for their war For where has their battle began Born from an ocean that has no name Ushered in with the momentum of birth One by one they break down And one by one they erode What one single lash could never destroy The gathering of

Jon Boatwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478148718630096598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500436613184400201.post-59209283958011385932011-01-02T13:35:00.000-08:002011-01-02T13:35:25.801-08:00

Jon Boatwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478148718630096598noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500436613184400201.post-24964970451612464752010-11-04T23:48:00.000-07:002010-11-04T23:48:57.637-07:00

She likes the fire where it burns And she likes a little danger in it's turn She likes to keep them guessing But she always fell for Heaven She says it's a sin to be bored She likes to be wrapped up in the world She likes to go missing But she always fell for Heaven Like a stranger in the night Like a traveler looking for the light Going everywhere to get known But she always falls for Heaven

Jon Boatwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478148718630096598noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500436613184400201.post-37101659840934137672010-11-04T23:31:00.000-07:002010-11-04T23:31:38.591-07:00

Subtle things Won't knock you over But subtle things Will bring no strife It's subtle things You first don't remember But subtle things Come back in time In the morning when the rooster calls And the sun shines down on all Subtle things Will bring you comfort Subtle things will be your friend Turn out the light Now it's over Another day Soon will call In your bed Dreams may stir you And in your

Jon Boatwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478148718630096598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500436613184400201.post-79561028335419323832010-11-04T23:21:00.000-07:002010-11-04T23:21:41.745-07:00

On the edge of this town Timber pines and roads to the world Laughter and hard times Into the valley where life settles still The eye of the twister And then the silence of the lingering shade Stirs the day to a whisper We only know God made it this way My heart, my home My heart, my home When I look back It brings tears to my eyes My heart, my home Sometimes life drips like honey Other times

Jon Boatwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478148718630096598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500436613184400201.post-50642531534954417052010-11-04T23:09:00.000-07:002010-11-04T23:09:34.854-07:00

What is hidden within Needs no justification Only recognition And the desire to follow In truth And confidence And trust that the smallest of ways Is the road to Heaven

Jon Boatwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478148718630096598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500436613184400201.post-12062897438861517132010-10-18T23:18:00.000-07:002010-10-26T21:32:34.963-07:00

I did not understand the still and silent look in my Grandfather's eyes I could not comprehend it in my younger days It was not self looking at me But when he looked at me he was grafting me into generations past Which included him of course for he would soon go too The look was a rite of passage Empowering and healing Healing me of my boyish fancies Arming me for the journey ahead The long long

Jon Boatwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478148718630096598noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500436613184400201.post-13204802311862115732010-01-31T13:29:00.000-08:002010-01-31T13:38:55.824-08:00

Don't think so hardYou've got a lesson to learnYou lit a fireAnd you're afraid of getting burnedYou'll never go wrongWhen you're living by the heartAnd though you might get stungIt doesn't matterCause you're livingWhere Grace makes time fall awayWhere Grace makes time fall awayTake care to wonderTake time to breatheAnd Grace makes time fall awayThere's a little ideaFloating in your brainWell, you

Jon Boatwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478148718630096598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500436613184400201.post-34822983907461901562009-11-26T08:45:00.000-08:002009-11-26T08:51:42.543-08:00

Every moment passes awayEvery treasure you cannot makeThese things you can't hold in your handsReach for deeper thingsI tried to find you in the makeshift worldLike the Romance between boys and girlsBut you tease me with a sort of kissThen fill me with deeper thingsOh, if this life goes no whereIt's still going somewhereAnd if I miss you in the detailsI miss the pictureI found Love where the

Jon Boatwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478148718630096598noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500436613184400201.post-74187696704331477022009-03-02T01:03:00.000-08:002009-03-03T00:54:37.582-08:00

Why do we believe what the world says about us?  It's part of our conditioning, our state, I guess.  At some point, hopefully, we find a need to search for the truth of who we are.  In this time of corporate thieves, greedy CEOs, banks we can't trust and the diving economy we find ourselves struggling for security and certainty.  Living in a culture that says what we buy identifies us only takes

Jon Boatwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478148718630096598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4500436613184400201.post-43594074007937696802009-01-31T18:49:00.000-08:002009-01-31T19:01:05.452-08:00

Jon Boatwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03478148718630096598noreply@blogger.com1