THE BURNING GROUND
Father, a vision I am in,
Darkness enfolds me and I am all alone.
I am cold, and I am tired.
I feel the weight of lifetimes upon my shoulders.
I feel a thousand years old.
As I search for warmth, I see a fire light,
Somewhere off in the distant night,
This dark night of the soul.
Closer to this fire I am now,
Finally I feel its warmth.
It is the fire of desire,
Fueled by memories of long ago.
It seems that I have been here for ever and
Desperate for warmth, I leap into the flame,
Hearing my heart cry out in pain.
A glimpse of light, a moment of love,
Yet a feeling that I have been here before,
And soon you will close the door.
The fire wanes and again I stand alone.
The fires of life, the desire for love.
On I go, thinking, was this fire as bright as before,
Or the one before, or the one before,
Will this go on for evermore?
Fires of hope, of desire, all to be swallowed up
By this dark, dark night of the soul.
Is this part of life's journey, one must take alone?
Is there no one with whom to share the load?
My heart is heavy, my mind is adrift,
I don't seem to have any control.
Yet I have experienced light and I have experienced love,
Far greater than ever before.
But the knowledge I have gained, doesn’t fuel the flame.
The love that I feel, can it be real?
Each time I step into the fire,
It consumes the breath of life and leaves me in the cold.
Yet there is that fire of which the Masters speak,
The one called "the unfed flame."
The burning ground.
At times the fire lends me strength,
I believe that I can go on.
Then when the firelight dims,
I wonder what I have done wrong.
With each failure something is burnt away,
Something seems to die.
The burning ground.
Each new fire comes with hope,
Will this one be the last?
Will this one be the eternal flame,
The one that never dies?
If not, what will lead me to this light?
I feel, I believe, I know who I am.
Yet I fear opening my heart, searching my mind.
There are many flames of memories waiting there,
Experiences and parts of me that I seldom see,
Waiting to be consumed, on this field of grief and despair.
But I believe there is one flame
That will grant me final release.
The unfed flame of eternal love.
Beloved I Am, take my hand,
Lead me to the light.
Why must I do this alone?
How much of me must die?
And although no one seems to really care,
I know that they are there,
Eagerly waiting to share the joy,
When alone and empty, I step into that final fire,
Free from want and desire.
With nothing left but the light of God.
When there is nothing left, will I love you still?
Love you enough to forgive my journey,
Appreciate what you have done for me?
Once you placed me upon the cross.
Once you gave me new reason to live,
To learn, to grow, to serve.
And now you have set me upon the burning ground.
With an angel that I cannot see,
And only one faint glimmer of hope,
The words of our beloved Francis;
"it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
Trust me little one."
I would gladly die to be freed,
From the burning ground.
The journey from cross to cross,
A journey of one, a lonely one.
And yet, I AM never alone.