This, Then, be Sacred

It was oil, olive,
Then was it, naught.

Together, they nelt,

Together, they prayed.

How does one seek forgiveness,
of the self.

To then hallow, the vulgar, choice.

To remove,
this, then, the pain.

Thus, to bless the oil,
and then the act.

To make this, then, sacred, the choice.

To the moment they shared.

That peace may come,
and the pain,
be no more.

For to remove, is to restore,
and safeguard life.

This then, the choice, he made.

When to plant, the pot.

Nephi had done it.
Many prophets did it
Defied the culture
To save a life.

Now we plant the pot.

It is a risk.
The risk we bare.

He who plants, 24 years.

We who grow, our home, and freedom.

We risk it all.
For the one we luv

Now to bare fruit.

The cure it came.

To share another day.
With the one we luv.

Acts 10:9-16

The blanket,
it was spread forth,
on the roof top.

All the unclean food.

"Take eat this is my body"

Three times the command was repeated.

Then the meal was removed.

Three times he had denied Christ, before.

He had been ever faithfull,
Ever since.

But this seamed a bridge, too far.

He pondered thus.

Can anything be impure,
What God has made pure.

When the men came,
from Cornelius,
he journied, thus.

Have I denied,
the pure,
unpure.

The pot was planted,
the pure,
unpure.

The prisoner, in his jail cell.
The unloved.
The unwashed.

To have not left,
The cave.

To leave behind the burden,
the expectation of his culture.

To be with, and strengthen,
the impure.

Those with heavy burdens.

This was his task,
and desire.

The scares, He bore.

The knife, it was not sharp,

Just enough,

Serrated, thus it was,

Small in size.

Designed to portion a steak

into smaller pieces.

It had rested on the table.

Left from a previous meal.

It was a tough morning,

leading to a tough day.

One was dying, was she?

and one was taking the covenants,

of marriage.

Both performed,

one the marriage,

one the promise.

He was uncertain of his place, in both lives.

Luck had it there were no guns in the house.

Still,

Would they really care in the morning?

There was a lot of blood,

Still..

On Plato's Cave

Success and family was what, then he saught, always.

Long lived they in the cave.

The images that surrounded, them.

Were they real, or naught.

The others, outside, had such expectations.

He wanted to be with them too.

To be with them, this he could naught.

So he lived two lives, between the real and the cave.

Someday he would be naught.

Maybe his God would judge him naught.

But leave them, in the cave, he could naught.

Until they freed themselves.

Was it not the cave, Plato's cave.

Escape it once he did, almost.

But return then he must.

They could not see the real for the image.

For to leave them he could bare, naught.

So this then, was his task.

To be with them, and strengthen them, until they freed their own chains.

Then together they would leave the cave...

Tobe their naught.

On Mr Frodo and Gethsemane.

What be their task.
Here in the garden.

Know they not then, this burden.

Come to gloat, had they now,
Or only to mourn, this one.

If this be the failure, final.
All will be lost.

How to strengthen him then.
Thus now they confired.

This burden, could carry, they not,
For man
For God.

The blood it flowed, drop by drop.

Once before their had been such a scene.

High on Mount Doom, in Mordor, a task almost too much, for this one to bare.

Mr Frodo, all spent from burden, thus carried.

It had all seamed in vain.

Till came the friend, who walked the path.

Samwise Gamgee

"Come, Mr. Frodo!' he cried. 'I can't carry it for you, but I can carry you."

So do angel's imitate men and hobbits.

This lesson they share.

On Celtic Bishops.

What of the Celtic Bishop's.

Born so long ago.

How long did they preserve, the church?

... after the fall of the empire.

This long time, they served humanity, and transmitted culture, and learning.

St. Patrick's grandfather was one.

How they loved and cherished their wives.

To nourish the church in the wilderness,
was it not, their lives vocation.

Till in her beauty, she came forth, in all her strength, and magistry.

From whence doth it come?

The poetry.

Like a fountain.
A Volcano ,
A perrenial flower, that fails to bloom ,

... when neglected.

Long do'th it question me.

Like a Jungian apparition. 

... uncalled for it comes.

To the answers I seek,

Only questions, are provided.

Like a twisted, Douglas Adams dream.

The answer is 42, but what of the question.

Still together we dance,
The poetry, and I.

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carl_Jung

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Douglas_Adams

Douglas Adams wrote "The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy". In the latest version we learn the Earth was created by the mice to learn the eternal question, the answer, to which, is 42.

On Being Vulgar ...

I am a Vulgar man.
Less common with the coming years.

I learned to swear, like Brother Brigham.

Life does that to you.

This life happens, as you are making other plans.

Promised a large righteous posterity, by one who knew I was sterile.

Never to create new life in this world.

How does one become less common, more vulgar.

Feeling less mormon, and  more christlike each day.

I planted the pot.

I adopted two children from one who could create new life, special gift, from one who loves our family.

A gift, I hope to repay someway.

I helped to prosecute a young man who misused his reproductive powers.

Then purchased a van to visit him for several years.

To let him know he was not his crime.

This commoness
This Vulgarness

Trade, with the coming years.

Till I become less like me,
and more like him.

On the light of Christ

What of them, the Other,
Who never learned his name,

nor sacred covenants made.

Dammed to hell,
thus we're told.

Alvin Smith was the Other,
so was the Buddha.

Both came before the restoration,

of all things.

What is this Light Of Christ.

A power sent, and a gift offered,

To guide Them, to him, and lead, 

Them, to the Father.

Then comes the temple, and a chance,

to offer, the covenants to all.

The past, and the future children of God.

Prepared are they now, for his presence, and to preside in the Divine Council.

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alvin_Smith_(brother_of_Joseph_Smith)#Death

On the importance of tolerance ..

They said I must be, tolerant,
of the Other .

The Catholics were tolerant,
of the Protestants.

The Whites were tolerant,
of the Blacks.

The Missourian's were tolerant,
of the Mormon's.

I am told, tolerance,
will be enough.

How do I learn to need ...

the Other?

The newly married,

same gendered couple,
on the back row.

The One addicted to,
Porn,
Booze,
Food,
Sex,

The unloved.
The unwashed.

The Bishop unwilling to accept,
the one child, who no longer believes.

I, Myself, 

Who now struggles,
to hold to a belief,
I have luved from youth.

My Momma has taught me to luv,
the Other.

Can we learn to embrace, and need ...

The other,

till we come,
to a greater,
understanding,

Of the Other, like me.

Does the song remember when?

Does the song?

Know when, to remember,

Or when,  to forget.

Memories of Momma, on my mind.

When will come the children.

To long for them we do.

Do I remember the future, or is it the past.

This time too, shall pass.

This road to come, long it is,

Here I am in Momma's van.

Trisha Yearwood,  playing on the tape deck.

"The Song Remembers When".

When to love, when to cry, and when to try again.

To still the anger, then be one/won

He was angry with one of them.
With which one, he was not certain.

He had kissed them both.

In his life, their had only been two.

One gave him life, the other shared his bed.

Why spread the anger at the first, to the second?

The second had urged him, to settled the anger , with the first.

He was unwilling, to do the same.

So it spoiled his time, with the second.

Before the death of the first, their was reconciliation, and real forgiveness.

Now how to return to the second, to diminish the void, he created.

... this then is his quest.

On the cemetery, at Grants Ward.

I went to the cemetery today,
in Grants Ward, to see if Momma, was there.

Momma and I had been there, together, many times before.

This was not the first place I checked.

I  First, went to the one in Swan Lake.

The place of her Grandma and Grandpa's remains.

The baby they lost, and grandmas sister, they were not there.

My family has lived with death, for so long.

In ten years grandma lost,
Nada, Ken, Grandpa, Fred, and a grandson too, Willard's boy.

I lost my wife, too then, nearly,

This cure then, to be grateful for ...

There are wild roses near the graves, in Grants Ward.

My family still comes each spring,
to clean the graves.

Long gone but not forgotten.

My Grandmas's favorite song was My Wild Irish Rose.

My Aunt's and Uncle's sang it each year, at the family reunion.

Their tuning was wild, like the wild Irish rose.

Still, I felt the love in their hearts as they sang for their parents.

I have some of the wild roses, in my yard.

From the cemetery, in Grants Ward. 

Like the wild Irish rose, that was my grandmother.

Transplanted they are, like the memories, of my Mom.

The experiences with Mom, are like the roses, a little bit wild.

They grow best when left to their own, unmolested, but remembered.

Grants Ward is a geographical designation,

Between Swan Lake and Downy Idaho.

Bannock County, Idaho

Latitude: 42.4012694

Longitude: -112.0380434

It is the place my Grandparents homesteaded,

before they lost the baby and moved to Logan Utah.

It is near the Byington Family Grave site.
http://www.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~idbancem/downey_area_cemeteries/grant_ward/grant_ward_cemetery.htm

On the other, moms

She wanted to be his mom,
She did.

They all did.

All of the Aunt's
Wanted to be his mom.

He luved his Mom
Or so he thought.

But still tobe angry,
And very angry, still.

If he choose an aunt, to be his mom,
life would be better, so much better.

But which grandma, would he lose.

Thinking of the lost husbands, and babies, too.

The ones they had lost, to create what he was,

He will pay the price, to forgive and be forgiven.

That his children may have a father, they may choose to honor.

This then, is, his prayer.

To the end of, his days.

On the importance, of the poetry.

It was long his dream,
To write the history.

He tried once,
So long ago.

The journals in high school.

The letters to his children.

They were too complete,
in his brokeness.

How to help you to luv them,
He saught.

Then comes the poetry.

Poetry is broken, and incomplete.

This is the blessing, and a way, to show,

The luv.

A man and his murse ...

Why does a man need purse?

I knew a man, who had a jewelry box.

I have been accused, of being that man,
Little Eddie Jr.

In my purse, I have 5 Android devices,
And their chargers.

O' and my wallet too.

It was purchased for a small netbook,
But now it is a murse, a man's purse.

We go many places, together.

I always have it nearby.

Once in the hospital, I had no charger.

Now like a good Eagle Scout, I am always prepared.

It has a spare battery powered charger, two bluetooth headphones.,
And lots of good USB cables .

I hope you are prepared with a murse, or a jewelry box.

On Mommas, twin sister

Momma had a twin sister,
they were born 18 months apart.
Where one would go, the other would follow

for years they shared a bedroom,
and a bed too.

Momma had the babies
her sister helped to raise them.

having three children,
in a short time,
momma needed help, with the babies.

momma, took her sister, on their vacations
they shared a bed then too.
momma was in the middle,
just so daddy's eyes did not roam too far.

they luved the babies together,
momma and her sister.

in the summer's, after her marriage
momma sister would take a child, for a week or two.

her sister ached for her unborn child
momma's children helped fill the void.

I luved momma and I luved her sister,
They really completed each other.

On making a baby ...

Let's make a baby,
She said.

It was not the first night,
But the second.

The first had been a pajama night.

Still he had not sleeped with a woman,
Except momma, her momma, or an aunt.

The first day was a busy day,
The wedding breakfast,
Temple ceremony, when he nearly fainted, and the wedding reception.

So the first night was a pajama night.

She was the first to kiss him,
Except momma.

That second night, they did try, to make a baby.

Little did they know, He could never create new life.

Still they luved to try.

The babies did come, send from another who luved them all.

He so luved his Eve.
So times seam tough and life is a struggle ,
Still he knows she was the first and will remain the only,

To ask him, to help her, to make a baby.

On the first, broken, family.

Eve luved Adam,

She remembered the time before,

Before, when she was part of him.

Not a finger, or a toe, but a rib.

Always their beside him.

She luved the warm feeling.

To be a part of him.

Then come'th the separation.

No more together they are.

Then came the fruit.

And the knowledge.

They could be more together.

Adam wanted God.

Eve wanted Adam, and his babies.

Then, the separation, from God.

But still the joy would come.

Then the babies, Caine and Able.

Jealous was Cain of Able.

With Cain's choice, came death, to the world.

And sorrow to the family.

Where to go now, this first, broken , family.

How to recover Joy from such sorrow.

Tears and service and luv and forgiveness.

Then comes the gift of Seth.

Joy doth then return.

And many more children, to follow.

Till they be one again.

J. Golden on thinking for ourselves.

... "but all the men in the United States cannot prevent a man from thinking. There are not Apostles enough in the Church to prevent us from thinking, and they are not disposed to do so; but some people fancy because we have the Presidency and Apostles of the Church they will do the thinking for us. There are men and women so mentally lazy that they hardly think for themselves. To think calls for effort, which makes some men tired and wearies their souls. Now, brethren and sisters, we are surrounded with, such conditions that it requires not only thought, but the guidance of the Holy Spirit. Latter-day Saints, you must think for yourselves. No man or woman can remain in this Church on borrowed light." (J. Golden Kimball. April 1904 General Conference)

To be grateful, and the anger, be still ...

She, was dying.

Dying She, was ?

Or, was He ?

To grateful, for the small things,

Where, they?

A full hair of head .

A Hair Stylist, with real talent.

Two children, and a husband, she luved.

Angry he was, VERY VERY VERY ANGRY !

She was the center of his universe.

Talk about it, he could not .

Why?

Then came the one who brought the cure.

... AND ANGRY, VERY ANGRY, was he, still.

So, very still.

Talk, he could not, and why, they knew not.

Yet, came the cure, the full head of hair.

A full remission.

... and now to the rebuilding, of a life.

To let the anger, be still.

On their brokenness

Broken, the doll was,
broken, and luved.

It was a walker.
A real marvel of its' age.

Damaged, it was ...

I know not, when.

I remember it from my youth.

It, with its' sister,
hung on mommas wall.

Luved them, she did,
Luved us too.

Momma cared for the dolls,
as she cared for us.

When I see the dolls,
I remember to care, 

for the damaged,
the forgotten,
the unluved,
and the broken.

For Momma and I were broken too.

The church, universal, nourished, in the wilderness

 "Behold, I do not bring it to destroy that 

which they have received,  but to build it up. 

And for this cause have I said: 

If this generation harden not their hearts, 
I will establish my church among them.  
Now I do not say this to destroy my church, 
but I say this to build up my church; 

Therefore, whosoever belongeth to my church need not fear,  for such shall inherit the kingdom of heaven."

  "And the woman fled to the wilderness, 
where she had a place prepared by God 
where she would be sustained... "

how long did she linger there,
their in the wilderness

nestled by the fire,
     of his writers and poets.

concealed was she,  there, nourished. 

when to come forth,
and replenish the earth?

   Milton unearthed her,
concealed among the poets.

"Say Heav'nly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein [ 15 ]
Afford a present to the Infant God?
Hast thou no vers, no hymn, or solemn strein,
To welcom him to this his new abode,"

The Devils built a city in Hell,

called it Pandemonium.

Did they arrive in Hell, 

or bring it with them.

Let no one wonder, 

the truth they uncovered, their.

The truth of their own damnation.

 "And dig'd out ribs of Gold. Let none admire [ 690 ]
That riches grow in Hell; "

 "That underneath had veins of liquid fire  [ 701 ] ...

Severing each kind, and scum'd the Bullion dross:"

    Let no man question, then,

    How he reached his church, 

    and nourished her, in the wilderness

    till revealed again,
    in the wilderness, she remained,

    to be brought forth .
    in all her restoration, and glory.

(The Doctrine and Covenants, Section 10:50-55)

(Revelations 12:6)

(John Milton, On the Morning of Christ's Nativity) Compos'd 1629

(John Milton, Paradise Lost Book i)

Elousia, In her womb ..

"... with mighty wings outspread, 

Dove-like sat'st brooding on the vast Abyss, 

And mad'st it pregnant:" 

Their I rest ...
In her womb.

The bosom of the father.

Like the great egg. 

I rest ...

To be embraced, and luved.

To come forth, and return.

When ready I am.

She "upbraideth not"

My false starts.

But looks forward to, when, 

I fly.

John Milton, Paradise Lost Book i

On RACHAM : Hebrew, mercy, bosom, womb

Papa: The Shack, William Paul. Young

Elousia; the name that  Paul gives to the feminine define.

On the Bastardization of English by the vulgar folk ...

       

       "Zeal to promote the common good, whether it be by devising anything ourselves, or revising that which hath been laboured by others, deserveth certainly much respect and esteem, but yet findeth but cold entertainment in the world. It is welcomed with suspicion instead of love, and with emulation instead of thanks: and if there be any hole left for cavil to enter, (and cavil, if it do not find a hole, will make one) it is sure to be misconstrued, and in danger to be condemned. This will easily be granted by as many as know story, or have any experience. For, was there ever any thing projected, that savoured any way of newness or renewing, but the same endured many a storm of gainsaying, or opposition? A man would think that Civility, wholesome Laws, learning and eloquence, Synods, and Church-maintenance, (that we speak of no more things of this kind) should be as safe as a Sanctuary, and out of shot, as they say, that no man would lift up the heel, no, nor dog move his tongue against the motioners of them. For by the first, we are distinguished from brute beasts lead with sensuality; By the second, we are bridled and restrained from outrageous behaviour, and from doing of injuries, whether by fraud or by violence; By the third, we are enabled to inform and reform others, by the light and feeling that we have attained unto ourselves; Briefly, by the fourth being brought together to a parley face to face, we sooner compose our differences than by writings which are endless; And lastly, that the Church be sufficiently provided for, is so agreeable to good reason and conscience, that those mothers are holden to be less cruel, that kill their children as soon as they are born, than those nursing fathers and mothers (wheresoever they be) that withdraw from them who hang upon their breasts (and upon whose breasts again themselves do hang to receive the Spiritual and sincere milk of the word) livelihood and support fit for their estates. Thus it is apparent, that these things which we speak of, are of most necessary use, and therefore, that none, either without absurdity can speak against them, or without note of wickedness can spurn against them.  

Yet for all that, the learned know that certain worthy men have been brought to untimely death for none other fault, but for seeking to reduce their countrymen to good order and discipline; and that in some Commonwealths it was made a capital crime, once to motion the making of a new Law for the abrogating of an old, though the same were most pernicious; And that certain, which would be counted pillars of the State, and patterns of Virtue and Prudence, could not be brought for a long time to give way to good Letters and refined speech, but bare themselves as averse from them, as from rocks or boxes of poison; And fourthly, that he was no babe, but a great clerk, that gave forth (and in writing to remain to posterity) in passion peradventure, but yet he gave forth, that he had not seen any profit to come by any Synod, or meeting of the Clergy, but rather the contrary; And lastly, against Church-maintenance and allowance, in such sort, as the Ambassadors and messengers of the great King of Kings should be furnished, it is not unknown what a fiction or fable (so it is esteemed, and for no better by the reporter himself, though superstitious) was devised; Namely, that at such a time as the professors and teachers of Christianity in the Church of Rome, then a true Church, were liberally endowed, a voice forsooth was heard from heaven, saying: Now is poison poured down into the Church, etc. Thus not only as oft as we speak, as one saith, but also as oft as we do anything of note or consequence, we subject ourselves to everyone's censure, and happy is he that is least tossed upon tongues; for utterly to escape the snatch of them it is impossible. If any man conceit, that this is the lot and portion of the meaner sort only, and that Princes are privileged by their high estate, he is deceived. As the sword devoureth as well one as the other, as it is in Samuel [2 Sam 11:25], nay as the great Commander charged his soldiers in a certain battle, to strike at no part of the enemy, but at the face; And as the King of Syria commanded his chief Captains to fight neither with small nor great, save only against the King of Israel: [1 Kings 22:31] so it is too true, that Envy striketh most spitefully at the fairest, and at the chiefest. David was a worthy Prince, and no man to be compared to him for his first deeds, and yet for as worthy as act as ever he did (even for bringing back the Ark of God in solemnity) he was scorned and scoffed at by his own wife [2 Sam 6:16]. Solomon was greater than David, though not in virtue, yet in power: and by his power and wisdom he built a Temple to the Lord, such a one as was the glory of the land of Israel, and the wonder of the whole world. But was that his magnificence liked of by all? We doubt of it. Otherwise, why do they lay it in his son's dish, and call unto him for easing of the burden, Make, say they, the grievous servitude of thy father, and his sore yoke, lighter. [1 Kings 12:4] Belike he had charged them with some levies, and troubled them with some carriages; Hereupon they raise up a tragedy, and wish in their heart the Temple had never been built. So hard a thing it is to please all, even when we please God best, and do seek to approve ourselves to everyone's conscience."

(Preface King James Version in the edition of 1611)

This is good standard 15th century English.  I can understand very little of it.  It is not the language of the common or Vulgar people.  It was written in a time when the language of the court was French or Latin.  The church was unwilling to produce a Bible in English because it was doubted the English Language had sufficient linguistic capacity to convey difficult theological subjects.

A generation before, William Tyndale began a project to demonstrate that the language of the vulgar, or common, English could transmit gospel teachings. 

  "The beginning of the Gospel of Jesus Christ the son of God.  As it is written in the prophets, Behold, I send my messenger before thy face which shall prepare thy way before thee; The voice of a crier in the wilderness, Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make his paths straight. John did baptise in the wilderness, and preach the baptism of repentance, for the remission of sins.  And all the land of Jewry, and they of Jerusalem went out unto him, and were all baptised of him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins.  John was clothed with camel's hair, and with a girdle of a beast's skin about his loins. And he did eat locusts and wild honey, and preached, saying, "A stronger than I cometh after me, whose shoe latchet I am not worthy to stoop down and unloose. I have baptised you with water: but he shall baptise you with the holy ghost." 

  (Mark Chapter 1)

This is a good standard street level language of the English People.  It is easily read with rhyme and meter.

The Language of the English is a combination of Language of the Germans, Angles, Celts, and the Norman French conquerors.  It was ruled by Rome for 300 years but it did not develop a Latin Language.

I know we often disparage the change in the English Language as the common folk create, change and mold it.  Twitter, texting, and Facebook have strongly shaped the language in the current generation.  Even as The Tyndale Translation and English Common Book of Prayer shaped and molded 16-17th century English.

The ability of the English Language to shape and mold itself to the needs of the rising generation while retaining its ability to communicate ageless thought is part of why it is the dominant language in the world today.

The drink, ... with a friend.

In it comes, out it goes.

A confession, or renewal.

The invitation.

To return, thus, it is.

Now to renew, the journey.

Hope of a rebirth, of the covenant.

Thus a trade, a restoration.

The end, of the beginning.

5-28-2017

On the power of myth.

"Go back to the darkest roots of civilization and you will find them knotted round some sacred stone or encircling some sacred well. People first paid honour to a spot and afterwards gained glory for it. Men did not love Rome because she was great. She was great because they had loved her." (G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy)

 The stories of Luke Skywalker or Han Solo are the sacred myth of my generation. Though set "Long ago and far, far away" They are the sacred fire we built our culture around.

Another is the story of Adam and Eve. This story has transformed my relationship with my mother. Thus the power of this myth.

Eve was a woman who desired to have children. In her desire to have children, she became broken. In this brokenness we now live. Eve sacrificed her presence with God so I could be born.

My mom and I have a difficult relationship. We are both broken souls. It is the power of the Eve myth that rebuilds our relationship. I value  the sacrifices offered by her,  her mother, and her mother's mother, to create my life. This gratitude has driven me, to restore my relationship, with my mother.

These sacrifices , are not in theory.  These sacrifices, are in fact. My mother's family have collected these stories. I know their names and birthplace to at least 7 generations. I have their stories. The babies, they lost. The husbands they buried. They are real to me.

Thus, the power of the Eve myth to shape and forge, mine and my mothers relationship. 

These myths tie me to my mothers, for all time.

When she, was part, of him ...

their she was, in him, Adam
did he not see her.

she was a part of him,
but he was alone.

all of creation had a companion,
he did not, or so it seamed, to him.

then came the separation,
now she was not part of him.

now he was not alone,
or so it seamed to him.

now, through all eternity,
he must strive,
to return,
to when, she was part of him.

To'be less, is more. ver 2.0

To be grateful is,
To be grateful for.

This more, I seek,

Then, less I am,

T'is this I seek

To be less ...

then, more.

The more I am,
The more I seek.

The more I seek,
The less I am.

Till then I am,
To'be no more.

I will seek,
Then less of more.

To then I 'come,
All the more.