The 60-Second Sabbath

identity

  • Koi

    No matterhow tightlyI grasp, their thick, slick, torpedo bodiesslide through my fingers–cold slices of weightless fire. The pond,the fish,the grasping hand… which am I? Text and image © 2014 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved. Continue reading

  • Whiteboard

    Picture your lifeas a whiteboardon which is writtenall you've been toldabout life and meaning–    all you should believe,    all you should do,    all you should be. Thus crammed witha lifetime of scribbling,the board is unreadable,a jumble of… Continue reading

  • Meeting the Self on a Dark, October Night

    I met my selfwhile walking home last nightalong a dark, October road,lined with leafless trees,swept by a coarse wind,smelling of approaching snow. I met my selfand knew he was but a ghost,a resonance of past illusion,an echo of concepts and… Continue reading

  • Identity

    I am the same personall the time. I may be souras spoiled milk.I may be sweetas red velvet cake. I'm still fully,essentially,completelyme.  Text and image © 2013 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved. Continue reading

  • The New Question

    For a very long time,the question of spiritual identityhas been,"Who are you?" Now is the time for a new question:"Whose are you?" We are God's.We belong to one another. As Desmund Tutu said,"I am because you are." Text and image… Continue reading

  • J.O.Y.

    I was taughta three-part formulafor pleasing God,for achieving success,for finding happiness:J.O.Y:     Jesus first,    Others second,    Yourself last. For a child first forging identity,this is bad advice;developmentally,the child's primary taskis to put herself first.Forcing her to do… Continue reading

  • Mere Visitors

    I can observe my thoughtsand realize that they are only thoughts,without actuality or substance,momentary visitors,some familiar, some strange,some welcome, some not. I can stop mistakingthese thoughts for me. "Hello," I say,and more so,"Goodbye.Goodbye." Text and image © 2012 by Dirk… Continue reading

  • Stopping by My Mind on a Spring Evening

    Whose thoughts are these?I think I know.He dwells within the crawlspace, though.I often find him mewling near,obsessing concepts, theories, fear,postures old and long of tooth,and seldom grounded in the truth. No time have I for thoughts like these,for I have… Continue reading

  • Good Friday, 2013

    Train mein the fine and necessary grace    of dying. Teach meto paint the watercolor wash    of my own decay,to draw in delicate detail    my inevitable deterioration,to compose my private melody    of loneliness and loss. Then I shall be ready    for resurrection,to be the me    imagined at the… Continue reading

  • At Sunset

    I stand barefootat the balcony door,looking outas evening  settles the city. Already the condo has filledwith shadows,some gray, like memory,others darker, like regret. If I am king of this castle,lord of this manor,why do I feel like a squatter,a pretender… Continue reading