perfect touch. day 16

invisible wrestling prolongs my destitute

in the land of waiting

wings of oblivious misery

over my crawly prayers

pretend to be crystal independent

give up the ordinary

is your gentle touch enough

to pierce through the elements of my callous imagination

save me from destruction of poetic vanity

wake me up

miserable own will. day 4

 photo by P'


miserable we came out of nowhere wygrzebaliśmy się jak nędznicy znikąd

to become a staliśmy się

the most cherishable najcenniejszymi

judges of the angels sędziami aniołów

unperishable nieprzemijającymi

for aeons to be remembered na czasy zapamiętani

to witness aby świadczyć

unpredictable became the known as it is nieprzewidywalne stało się poznanym

but You are known as One ale przecież Ty jesteś znany jako Ten

who specializes in turning things specjalista od przewrotów

upside down do góry nogami

photo by Cognitive Ambition

own will

Was it actually for Me that you fasted? Zech 7:5

I started reading Isa 58 passage, and stopped on the last part of verse 3, where I camped for about… 6 hours. It starts with:

Behold, in the day of your fast

and then follows with (different translations)

you seek your own pleasure

you take the chance to do your business

you pursue your own business

you find your desire

you do as you please

to please yourselves

you think only of yourselves

you do what you want to do

your own will is found

The last one strucked me the most. It’s from Douay-Rheims translation. Fasting should be seeking God for Himself, not proving a point to others or God (which does not make sense anyway). It should afflict the soul, expressing true sorrow for sin, get away with pride, covetousness, malignant passions. Isa 22:13 points to indulging in sensuality and pursuing one’s own desires during fasting.

Affliction means: to be put down, become low, to be downcast, depressed, to stoop, to humble oneself, to be humiliated, to weaken oneself and submit. Afflicting should bring real pleasure and diminish our corrupt nature.

I need help. My own will must submit.

tears in a bottle

until the shadows flee away

raise me up to the firmness of your rare whispers

until the shadows flee away

offer me a breath formed out of the twisters of your never-ending life

until the shadows flee away

return my present to the past broken crystal tears

until the shadows flee away

collect every drop of shackled misery in your bottle of memories

i see the reflection of my-panicked-self

in the mirrored bare salted tears

why does it seem so drastically familiar

until i reach the crack leading to the sea of glass

hide me behind your muslin veil of presence

make a new label for the bottle

with a prolonged term of use

I thirst

You have kept record of my days of wandering.

You have stored my tears in your bottle and counted each of them.

Ps 56:8

how can I describe

perplexions of a heart immersed in unpredicted freedom

sight stunned by the infinite possibilities of creation’s wonders

innocent curiosity developing into contemplative art of searching

for the universe of life

so close by

so vast


photo by joanna eleanor

emptiness inhabited by never fulfilled desires

crawled and twisted almost forgotten

catapulting from decades before

mixing times and seasons

troublesome space of dreamed fantastic accuracies

woven through dangerously attractive prophecies

how could that be

barren became a friendly soul

fading memories having the last chance of resurrecting

from distant horizons balancing upon the ocean of divine whispers

bringing me nearer

to this one thing

I will look toward the everlasting captivation

faintly but truly

I desire

upside down

 photo by iwka ©


is what we experience the reality

or do we perceive only the reflection of the true life


breathing existence torn in between

struggles of wonderings

unleash my imagination

into holy contemplation

i want to soak in Your Being

dripping with myrrh which falls off like fragrant droplets of meekness

stepping from illusion

to the gate of humanity called into silence

deep calls to deep

© iwka