It Is All Undone
“Many and splendid are the works I have wrought”
—Adonai
I.
A solitary bird traverses the blasted heath,
where life has been forsaken.
I dug myself in a hole,
and yet the Father reached down
with his hand to lift me.
I gouged holes into myself,
and yet the Son had mercy on me.
But now I have sinned against the Spirit
and cannot be forgiven.
I have learned to climb
out from hell after inviting its worst to try me.
I have traveled casually
through many-dimensional cities.
All the while I would slip
into the doing of unspeakable acts,
knowing full well God
is massive enough
to erase it all.
No cycle too cruel to jump
into and out of, no addiction
too abysmal for my visitation.
But now I have sinned against the Spirit
and cannot be forgiven.
Turn your head as I walk past—
you want no part of this
that I’ve become.
I draw my power from the darkness,
I would bring down all humans
with me— what is that to me?
For I have sinned against the Spirit
and cannot be forgiven.
II.
“Look!” A solitary bird traverses the blasted heath—
and sings.
Just then, he and I shared
our two souls.
He took what was turned in me
and let it into his heart,
and replaced it,
now a thing quite new.
No one could believe this. “Look!”
Over the blasted heath— the birds are
returning to the place that God had denied
life for three blackened years.
I once sinned against the Spirit
but I have been forgiven
because I sin no more.
I have returned from the waste and void.
—By S.W. Whelan. From the poetry collection Holy Hell
“Running streams, gushing springs, the falling rain, roaring torrents, the ceaseless motion of oceans and seas, the sound of the wind blowing, of leaves rustling, of insects chirping and birds singing. . . everything in nature is music. And from the dawn of time, it is this natural music that has awakened and sustained human beings’ feeling for music. It has prompted them to express themselves through an instrument or through song, to evoke the important moments of their life, to express their love, their joys and their sorrows. Through music they also convey their mystical aspirations, they sing in praise of the Creator, and when we listen to this music we feel it awakening in our soul the memory of a heavenly homeland, nostalgia for a lost paradise. The effect is immediate. We remember instantly that we come from heaven and that heaven is where we will return. And one day, when higher consciousness has awoken in human beings, when they develop the possibility of subtler perceptions, they will begin to hear the grand symphony sounding through space, since every created being, from the stones to the stars, emits vibrations that spread out as sound waves. And then they will understand just how bad Katy Perry’s music really is.”
Is our relentless quest for economic growth killing the planet? — New Statesman
Scientific models predict that if humanity doesn’t switch relatively soon to an alternate system of exchange, it is doomed.
Well, probably not the entire human race would go extinct— just most of it.
Not only can I not get my act together, I don’t even know what Act I’m in
While such a schedule might indeed be healthier, and questionably better for economic productivity, blog correspondent Sasha Vartelskaya, who brought this story to FWIW’s attention, exclaims: “Kakoi-to ujas! [Horrific!] Soon there might not be anything pleasant left in the world…”
Spain, Land of Siestas and 10 PM Dinners, Asks if It’s Time to Reset the Clock — NY Times
A pro-efficiency movement is pushing Spain, with its long siestas and late nights, to reset its clock to align the country with the rest of Europe’s 9-to-5 schedule and become more productive.
A great recent song by Turin Robinson, a currently little-known singer songwriter from Perth, Australia, with a voice that flits between Jeff Buckley, Tom Waits, and your mom, and a sound merging folk, R&B, hip hop, and rock pretty seamlessly
This guy on the train is reading a book called “Retire Young Retire Rich” and uses
a yellow highlighter to underline things
—submitted by blog correspondent Sasha Vartelskaya
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