अन ओदे तो तह कान्द्लेमाकेर

An Ode to the Candlemaker

Tears wax dripping to the spiritual flame,
Burning, burning, away our shame.
At end of Age we carry along,
A history of hate and Wisdom's song
Some things right, so many wrong.

But the dream of Innocence is born again,
It grows in hearts prepared by pain.
We light new candles from the old
We gather back into the fold.

For within our wicked world is a wick,
~Always Dancing~
To the flame of Eternal Love.

Solstice

CHASTE
Seizes chase
And haste
And ties them up
In a nought.

They struggle,
Because Nothing
Makes no promises.
And tells no lies.
What waits in the
Valley of Emptiness
Keeps it’s secret in Silence.
Yields not to forethought,
And won’t give a hint.
It demands my Presence
On this dark day of Winter
Wet, damp, dead, moist,
Rotting leaves, grey sky.

Beauty Still.

I'm Unity

Me more, memory, mi amore

Time ravishes age

When I am not immune

But when I boost

I'mm unity

I become well

Again.

Let it Die

Light a candle my dear……and let it die.

That butterfly’s melting.

It’s wings won’t fly.

Four flames burn bright

To show you what’s right

And the fifth within

Sings a silent hymn

To true love

Prayer (for Tasha)

As I lay me down to sleep
The ego rests in quiet deep
As I sleep I come to be
A spark of your eternity.

As I wake to a new day
Let me stay out of the way
Let my actions be inspired
By true wisdom, by pure grace
Let my thoughts be free, unmired,
By the past, by old disgrace.

For I can be a sword of truth
If I will walk this ancient Way
With certain step and Gentleness.

Song of innocence (for Tasha)

My questions are falling away
I grasp at them as they drift by
Just as my hand clenches
a stray word
It dissolves……. like foam.
Only silence remains
In the chaos of the End
I lie still and serene.
Encased in profundity.
Boxing the dream.

My body,
when it wakes from this sleep
Will thrill
to the mystery of life anew
Light coursing blue-electric
through my veins
Each ecstatic cell liberating
the divine principle:
Spelling a new way to be.

Rock my cradle, hold my hand
Guide my step, write my psalm.
In no sense the singer, I sing Your song

TRANCEQUILL

One more poem for the road.
My house is collapsing into chaos.
Inevitable really.
Nothing’s certain
Except this:
Chaos leads to order
And order crumbles into chaos

Fingers making music
Your laugh echoing the tune.
This is contentment.

Tears spring to the eyes
I watch the light.
Sadness and joy unveiled.
Pain pointing the Way.

I am dancing chaos today.
Disruption and harmony
Pirouetting each other
Slowly drawing closer
And closer….

I am afraid at the Entrance.
Of a new Era.
A death is happening.
And a new me is waiting in the wings
In the wings of desire unveiled
In the wings of desire shed
Like the feathers of a wild goose
Falling from the sky
To become my Trancequill.

Here we go again, you and I,
down Poetry Road
Chaotic? Yes, indeed
Intended for the ordered item
we call Truth
Certain of the echo
in the music of a touch...
A breath... a laugh...

And then the Gap,
The sacred space of Now
Still quiet from the last tear
of contentment
Shall I ask for anything more
in my prayers to the Ancients?
I think not.
For what is it, but to die over and again,
Housing the Soul’s pure light
within these hearts of gold
Waiting... Watching...
Dancing this wild goose alive
Besides another
Clothed in lustrous joy.

Inside, the sun shines

Out to sea
On an adventure
In a fine Relationship
The sea is calm
The sky is blue
The air is clean
I am serene.
I know not what
the future brings
Nor weather fair or foul
But weather comes
and weather goes
Inside, the Sun shines, Ho!

The Book of Love

I have a love I do not crave.

I have a love the world can save.

I have a love thats like a rock.

Whole and pure

Wild and free

A spirit of intimacy

That Time cannot erase.

That holds you not in ownership

Yet sings no transitory blues.

Paradoxical, perhaps.

But all that's true

Is so imbued

With contradiction too.

I have a love that's like a dance.

Moving, touching, breathing stance.

Unmoved by stress and circumstance.

Sometimes here, sometimes there.

Sometimes not.

But always one I trust.

I have a love that does not stop
At better than and not good enough.

I have died for you, been born again.

But this I did not count

That birth brings sweet forgetfulness

New stories right us now.

Maduram

I met a woman today named Amadora
She spoke about Love, with ecstasy in her voice
I too have tasted that sweet nectar.
It flows in my heart, I know it does.

But lately I haven't been able to feel its sweetness.
I'ts been bottled up, sealed and corked.

Who sealed it?
I did not ask for it.
It made me despair that I would never love again
With joyful abandon, like the last time.
Or if I do open my heart to someone, it happens too late.
One nanosecond after they are no longer mine.
Not just bad timing, its tragic timing.

Or is it? Maybe its perfect timing.
Maybe he was the bottle-opener, a divine gift.
Perhaps now that the bottle is opened,
I will taste all that my vintage heart has to offer:
loneliness,
loss,
heartbreak,
grief,
sadness,
fear,
anger,
longing,
ecstasy,
reverence.

I will taste it all, and I will call it Love.

Looking for love in all the right places

Its the same love
Pooling, reverbrating
Breathing me and you
Into time and space
From eternity.

My heart longs for constancy.
And the eternal prayer
That is my heart's namaste to you
Longs to see my love
Mirrored in an unending reflection.

No illusory hall of mirrors, this
That I need to shatter
In order to find the naked truth.
But a love that grows deeper
And stronger and richer
Even during a drought
Or occasional stony hardness
Of egoic reasoning

A love that knows itself to be
Both the question and the answer.
Both the food and the fed.
A love I see
Reflected in
Your words
Your flesh
Your lips
Your eyes.
Your heart.
Your soul

Only this love.

Dust Settles

My heart exploded softly with love for you.
And then again,
And again.
I recalled your warm hands,
Your love-lit eyes.
Your soft "Hi"
Strumming me into
Love's Leela.

My fears disintegrated
as the dust of that explosion
Settled softly over everything.

Touch me

No words can touch me like your hand
This language we both understand
No voice can match your breath's caress
No thought can pierce this solid flesh.
This my mind can't misconstrue
Because the heart and soul are true.

No touch can penetrate us like god's breath
No truth can lie about this love
Naked, stripped of desire
free of outcome
playing, just playing, frolicking, laughing
we sing each other into being
Heart within heart, layering upon heart again
Cascading into an infinite layering of hearts
Like a heart shaped tunnel
we dive whole body into love.

Is not touch God's breath made flesh?

Anointed

Perhaps you think I'm intellectual
Too clever with words.
But I'm not clever.
I cleave to the truth
I cleave to the brilliance of that
Inner Light
Ministering to my fears
Bathing my wounds
With words.

These words
Heal me
Unite me
Anoint me
With Thee.

Reflected in You

I want to write poems that can
Surprise me.
Knock my socks off
And help my feet feel the ground
Under me.

For in this world, I have thought
Too many things
Said too many words
Undone too many acts.
It leaves me bereft.

I meander
Through that maze of regrets.
Shrugging them off rapidly.
Hoping that a flake of light
Will dart forward and
Dissolve the maze,
Disintegrate the path
Lift the veil and
Remove the mask
So I can see Myself
Reflected perfectly in
You again.

Fear

Fear
Is in the issue
In the tissue
In the fissures
Is the fish sure?
Is it just a lure?
Where is the rule?
Follow your blistered sister
Into the bliss fish
Swim, whim, hymn, hum.

Open it!

Psyche
Psych-ill-logical
Cycle logical
Scythe
Cutting away the dross, the gross
In order to see what's real

Ailments in the alimentary
Elemental elimination
Brings illumination.

Pandora's box
Bursting at the seams
Spills out as talk sick waste
All over psyche in the dell.

CONTAINING CHAOS.

There is a wild mare trapped in a cage,
circling round and round.
Man studies her tracks,
trying to understand what makes her move.

The Mare is the symbol of
the Receptive, the Feminine.
The Feminine energy is soft and furious,
and it circles round and round
in its cage of four dimensions,
The Masculine, the Creative Principle
is the structure of the cage,
the boundary,
that gives the formlessness a pattern.

Creation is a constant process of
chaotic Yin energy forming
into circles and cycles
the turning of the ages,
the precession of the equinoxes.
It waxes and wanes
and then breaks its bounds again
to begin the chase anew
(the Taming of the Shrew).

Structure marries Chaos.

The Feminine energy is
serpentine and slippery.
Like water,
It has no shape,
and can therefore
assume any shape.
It is clear,
and can therefore
reflect any image.
It takes on the attributes of it’s environment.

The Masculine Creative Principle is invisible,
but it is what gives Feminine Life energy form.
The mind of God is genderless,
but will be found within each one as the
Father principle, who begat the Mother
in one timeless reflexive instant.
Nature patterns itself on this model,
except for deviant Man,
who is required to be not just instinctual,
but intuitive,
which calls for a meeting of
thinking and feeling.
Once again, a union of opposites within.
When this union is mirrored in the external world, sexual tension is a function of polarity,
not duality.


The caduceus images a
voluntary joining of these two forces.
The two-headed snake wraps itself around the Pole/spine of consciousness,
the central axis,
to come face to face with itself.
It eats itself and grows wings (ascends).

The caduceus is the symbol for healing.
Rightly so.
The feminine meets the masculine,
and recognizes the source of support within.
This finding of central support,
the center of axis-tense,
the spine, the will, the well
is a gesture that each One makes within.
In finding this direct relationship to God,
feminine energy which is by nature cloudy and formless, finds a Reason to Be
and shapes itself around
the Central Principal or Spirit.

Studying the tracks of the wild mare
will tell you about what’s
Dead.
Gone.
Past.

Moving into the Present
is a leap astraddle the mare:
a chaotic battle ensues
between the male dominator
and the wild feminine force,
until a moment of
union,
surrender,
victory,
death-birth
when mare and rider are as One.

This I am

Awoke with a knot of worthlessness
In my belly.
Panic, anxiety, fear followed this knot.
Quick, help me untang-ill it.

I meditate. I breathe.
I understand the disease of separation.
From which all gordian knots arise.
Not, Negate, no gate to pass through.

I pull on the thread that unravels the whole story.
The one that I know to be true.
I am divine. All is divine.
I intend to perceive my own and others divinity at all times.
The intention cleanses me
Washes over my being like a waterfall of light
Re-cognition. Relaxation. Return.
I am One. I am whole. I am perfect.
This moment. This world. This body. This I.
The perceiver, receiver and creator of all existence.
This I am.

Collaboration

co-written with Gary Stonecatcher

It's the way that I think it should be
Even though my vision is fading fast
I can feel you talking to me
Somewhere deep beneath the pool
If you're dancing in the 21st century chaos
Feel the heat of the fire
Everybody some kind of talking head
Trying to consume their desire
How have you managed to keep it all
In this strange land of the disconnect
I would be happy to rub of on you
Taste the fruit of your dreams
I know it's all about waking-up
From the stories I'm told
Transcend the role of this fantasy
Receive the love when it comes.

In a land before contradiction
In a place before dreams
Here was I born.
Before there was a One
There was None.
No role, no pole
No Self to improve
That’s my mantra
Or that’s my woman tra
Re-seive the truth
Awake, asleep, its all a divine dream
And you the divine dreamer
Try jumping into that primordial chaos
(the one just outside of Time)
And then tell me there’s something wrong
With the poetry of this existence
X is tense
When you are
X is Tens (to the power of)
When you are, cosmic strawberry.

Between the cracks

Consciousness is
my cupped hands holding
the water of Life.

I fold my hands in silent prayer.
Where is the water?

Magic Nothing

Tired, tired.
My mind wanders blindly
My heart is unsteady
I am fearful and restless
With fatigue.

I want to uplift myself
But the will is weak.
What do I need to counteract
restlessness?
Rest. Of course.
I sleep.

The Tao incomprehensible to me
I write, I writhe in ignorance
Hoping that I will stumble upon it,
Stub my toe on it stupidly
And as I pick up the offending rock
To fling it away in anger
There it lies underneath,
Shining, innocent, waiting…
Waiting for me.

I pick it up, my magic Nothing.
And slip it in my pocket
I walk on, happy……


But that hasn’t happened yet.

It was a wish, a whim,
my heart’s desire.
And desire is the culprit
Desire makes me culpable
Makes me succumb to Cupid.
Cupidity! Stupidity!
Did I imagine that my vow
would go unchallenged?
And would not the challenge be
in a form most alluring to me?
Cupid’s bow is playing a poem
That pulls on my heart-strings.
And I fall into the muddy pit of
my own desire.

Awaiting the Tao
Which looks like Nothing
Not even my desire for it.

I can stop this Now.
In an instant it was and is no more.

Saturn's Run

As I stand at the end of an Age of challenge and oppression.
I carry within me the seeds of my own rebirth:
Wisdom, love, and eternal optimism.
A compass for where to go,
And the passion to see it through.

These flames burn brightly within me.
My heart is kindling to the fire of kindness.
Human-kindness!
My soul waters the seeds of a generosity of spirit.
That dispels the greed caused by de-vision:
The illusion of see-pairation, the pairs of opposites.

But truly O-pposition is an illusion.
It reflects two positions in an O.
A perfect WhOle in Time.

A rogue ant

New love in my heart today,
Like softly falling snowflakes
Making my landscape virginal again.
This love, its not for any object
No subject either.
Just crystalline geometry of my heart's desire
To share my experience of being
An ant crawling on the skin of God.

I don't know that I'm living on this giant skin.
My ant vision only extends round the next horizon,
A foot away.
My ecosystems are in trouble,
My water supply is dwindling
Food is getting scared, I mean, scarce.
And what's worse, I don't even know
That I can't see very far, and I often forget that
There's this universe that God
Lives in, that I occupy a few millimeters of,
by pure Grace.
I become a rogue ant and try to climb up into God's ear,
In a moment of reflexive action
He swipes at me, WHAM!!!
My whole life topples.
Twin towers come crashing
Terror, panic, rogue ants scrambling,
Loss, remorse, grief, compassion
Love, waves and waves of Love
Comes rolling in from all quarters.
Washing my ant-hills away.

Another time, God is gentler...
She sweeps up the marching regiments with a feather duster
Some fall by the wayside, unable to hold fast
Most are deposited pell-mell
Into a new world, where
Ants and Gods are One and the same.

I feel

I feel...

I feel myself....

I feel the pull of gravity

Pulling my body to the earth,

Holding me close,

Never letting me fall...

What a BALL!

X I S T (Space-Time)

Only the present exists.

X coordinates of space
IS
T time

The past is a cone spiralling into the point of the present. This is the generations, the ancestors, karma. The seeds of the past are the fruit of the present, with tighter and greater velocity as it is closer to the moment.

Each moment has it’s thought, it’s feeling, it’s deed which spirals outwards to form the cone of future possibilities, and join with the next moment.

The past is imploding, the future is exploding. Every point along the spiral is a cause which is also the effect of a previous cause in one unbroken continuum of phenomena. Thus an action can be traced back to many causes, and can be a cumulative effect of a number of causes.

Each moment fourth with becomes a pre-pair-ation for the next.

See-quint (see 5) change is cause and effect. Sequent change is the spiral. Cyclic change is linear cycles repeating. Rotation of phenomena. Phenomes.

wet and dry

Dry, dry
My heart feels dry
My throat is parched
My heart us dusty
High point of summer.
What ails me?
Aaah, it is a secret mistrust
Of the Universe.
Burrowing in and
influencing my faith
In creation.
What can I do
To dismantle this?

Simply know this:
Creation and I
are one and the same.
To mistrust creation
is to mistrust myself.
I restore trust by
noursihing myself
With water, food
and all thoughts good.

POET’S TREE BRANCHING

co-written with John Brewer

Sleeping too late
Dreams, irresolute chaotic
Psychic forces stirring, tempting
My dream house splitting apart
Unrecognizable, all-too familiar
The doorbell leaps me awake.

Awake to the reality of my vow.
Chastity invites the lower nature
To vy for supremacy.
And in the midst of this agitation
I EXIST:
In a land before contradiction
A place before dreams.
Unthinkable, Untouchable, Unstoppable.

Firmly rooted moving forward
Doing nothing but allowing
The rising and falling of
Being and becoming
Within the hills and valleys of
Heart-mind body-soul:
I revel in my spirit journey.

Choosing a pathway
For now and tomorrow
Without knowing what may lay
Around the bends and breaks
Of, perhaps, a tortuous route,
I go forth in wonder and surprise
As one who has just arrived.

Arrived.
Arriver; To come
And I stay my arrival,
A rival I to the forces that bend
Joyously bubble I through the tortuous route
Like water.
I reflect the sky in open spaces.
I still myself in stagnant places.
Holding, containing, growing, waiting
for the moment when I may
rush forth innocently
Certain that I will be joined
by an ocean of eternal love.

"I" must be clear.
Here. No fear
Of fear. No interference.
At once definite as crystal
And diaphanous as light flowing through.
Wu wei!!! Ride and rider merge.
One being
Not doing
Time still and moving.
Fish swim in air.
I breath in ocean.
Now there are two. We
Make dolphin love forever.

A vesica piscis is a fish
Sacred geometry.
Two circles intersecting
Definite as Christ
The middle is adore-way
The woo way.
The two way
To One.

Through One
Each and every being
Harmonizes in holographic
Multiplicity, all
Falling in love,
Kaliedescopic jewels of
Starlight magnificently
Masquerading as formless form.

In adoration
Rivers of light and
Gold in grain
Conspire with earth and rain
To form loaves and fishes.
World so willing to hear
Echoes of the first word
And respond with miracle songs.

Is this a dream?
Of an ancient garden?
Or are we the bringers of a new dawn?
Once I saw a way to be
So natural
rivers of light traveling blue-electric
through my veins.
My love a net wide enough for all
I stood there in radiant reflection
Saying to myself
I know I know
That THIS is my birthright
And it is an extra-ordinary state
Extra, Extra! and free to boot.

Poets Tree Branching

I gave my heart so completely to you,
that it seems impossible for me
to take the last step in splitting apart:
Letting another take your place.

I see it in my mind like a branch
that has been split in two,
and peeled apart, making a Y
converting to a V, a Five,
the sign for Victory and Regeneration.

And a V is still connected at the joint.

We are neurons in the mind of God
Fired by new light everyday.
Connected to Him by a syn-apse.
The synapse is a junction of two neurons, a joint.
Almost touching.

An apse is where the altar sits in a church.
In my body, I AM the church and the altar,
Radiating out from my center
Cell liberating everyday.
Almost touching: Nirvana.

And when the branch hangs heavy
with the fruit of this experience,
I will fall from the branch, scattering my seed
To bring forth New Light.

Smoke Screen

Something pulls me at the back of my neck.
A connection gone awry.
A scab, a burning,
an imbalanced love
it dampens the fire in my heart
and turns it into acrid smoke.

I smoke I smoke I smoke
To mitigate the pain.
But it’s not my pain.
Smoking opens the gate
For the astral projection
Of another’s pain and fantasy
To enter my being.

No more, no more, no more.

NEAR DEATH

co-written with Salina Clifton

You have to get very near-death
In order to live.
Every second,
Death walks hand-in-hand with Life
While I dance awake my serpent slumber

But it’s agonizing,
To die so many little deaths everyday.
When will I stop dying so often! I cry.
When you stop LIVING, the reptile lies.

And I say: No, when I start GIVING.

Once, when it was fully integrated;
Death came knocking
yet one more time.
I opened the door
& It slipped inside.
Bowing with reverence,
I took a deep breath &
Exhaled the pain inside my Heart.
To my surprise,
nothing remained to be felt.
Could this be???
Was this,
The Boogie Man I had managed to escape,
all these years
THIS NOTHINGNESS !!
And what, pray tell, was all the fuss about?
So much peace in Here....
The coiled serpent
Patiently awaiting her next dance."

WETLANDS

Fate has me gripped in it’s jaws.
I’m wiggling helplessly,
Even though I know that this great beak
Is finally taking me to a place
that I’ve been wanting to go.

Because, I know,
that by the time I get there,
—I— will be swallowed up.

LIMITS

In order to stay liminal
And illuminated
You must eliminate everything
That your body cannot absorb.
From your diet and from your alimentary canal.
Elementary, my dear Watson!

Moonlight

You point to the moon, I look at your finger.
Too many moons have passed in finger-pointing.

Throwing New Light on Darkness

It is the nature of Light
to embrace the Darkness.
It is the nature of Darkness
to conceal the light.

Recondite,
Hidden from view.
Recondition,
Make new.

Concealing the light
Softly glow within
Hidden from in Jury
That inner critic
Who sentences me
Incessantly.

I am the Light.
Looking for it outside myself
is Darkness.

Darkness is Underrated
This makes Eve ill
Miss Understood
An Understudy
Go Down Under
So you can Under Stand
That it’s only Eve being ill

Make her well again

Lift up the hem of Eve’s skirt
and look Under
You’ll find God there……
Dancing alone in the dark.

Out of the box

I won’t fit
into any of those little boxes
Slotted for me:
Graphic designer,
Mother,
Indian,
Failure,
Goddess,
Middle-aged
Phenomenal.

But these you can grasp.

Fired!

I fired my mind today.
It was for acting above and beyond
the call of duty.

Internal dialogue

The reason we have “internal dialogue”
is because we think
there’s someone else there listening.
When one does this out loud,
and is walking alone down the street,
they call him a raving lunatic.
When one does this out loud,
and is in the White House,
they call him the President.

When I stop having imaginary
conversations with myself —
Then, I will have something to say.

Carrots

Spiritual practices are like holding
out a carrot to a donkey.
A good teacher doesn’t give you carrots.
She tells you you’re A DONKEY.

Do Patterns Matter?

Stripes on a tiger
Blobs on a leaf
Striations in my aura
Marks on my personality
What do these signify?
No cause for alarm here...
Life has ups and downs,
People can be good and bad
Weather comes and goes...
Do these matter?
I exist in a place that is beyond the pale
And beyond the veil
A land before contradiction
A place before dreams.
And from that infinite view
These patterns are
The Father turning,
And what matters is
The Mother churning,
Apparently,
this is how creation
IS.
And this is how I
come to
BE.

Who Loves?

Michael
The whole universe being a projection of mind,
Who is there to love me,
and more to the point,
Who is there to be loved?

The very nature of the Self is Joy,
But looking about desperately for "something" to come to "me",
an assumed small self is experiencing pangs of misery.

What to do?
Be affectionate with the poor little delusion,
But don't dote on it!
Enjoy the Joy of Self whatever "anyone else" may say!

Lakshmi
Well, now.
I am there to love you.
And you are there to be loved.

And it is just so that this exquisite love between individuals
can be enJoyed,
That I came into form from formlessness.
From Unity I became Multiplicity.

But everyone of my fractions
Harbors within their in divide dual heart
The liberating secret:

Like this poem,
The whole Universe is a story
Told by One—to no one.

A butterfly, three mirrors and a candle

Gary
The salute was developed by those
protecting their eyes from the Light.
I remember when we bathed in it,
And it washed us clean,
And there was love and laughter.

Still, a butterfly, three mirrors and a candle.

Lakshmi
And sometimes we walked through the mud
To reach that waterfall.
First you see, then you saw.
And when it becomes a tired old ax,
Don't despair.
There is a new baptism waiting for you,
Cradling brilliant reflections
On the laser edge of a sword clothed in flesh.

Always, a butterfly, three mirrors, and a candle

Gravity is Love

Gaia holds me fast to her
Never for a moment will she let me go
They call it a force, Gravity.
I call it Love, a divine embrace
Bracing me, balancing me

I am a diode emitting Light
Rainbow colors divided through 7 centers
Of perception. Per Sept.
Absorbing dark matter through my root
Pranic energy collects at the base.
I open each chakra in my imagination.
Petals unfurling...
Red radiance radiates my lower body
Bleeding into orange,
Bursts open in the sunshine of yellow
Gravitates towards green
Filters through my heart and lungs
Into a turquoise bottle neck
Rushing to meet that conical
Gland in the land of Pi
That cone of cosciousness
Swirls open to receive
Purple pouring in from above my crown.
Suddenly imagination becomes experience.
A synaptic flash of lightening zings me,
Completing the circuit
From root to crown,
Darts forward into my temple.
As indigo vision opens to
Viv id perception.

Now I am open.

Surfs Up!

Arrogance rides on the crest of
Every wave of transformation
White, foamy, but of little real substance.
Its easy to get bedazzled by the foam and
Giddy with the spray.
Of negative ions in the air
When I’m riding high.

But in order to surf the web of consciousness
I’ve got to stay balanced on the board
Feet firmly planted
Center of gravity low, not high.
In proper awe of the forces I’ve harnessed.

Being aware that feelings like
Jubilation,
Triumph,
Over-confidence,
Sudden and unexplained
Revulsion for others.
Are shadows of my own self-doubt.
Creating that cosmic wobble.

Balance is the Middle Way
The middle of what?
The middle of the poles.
Negative on the left,
Positive on the right.
Go too far one way
And I must dip into the other side.
While finding balance again.
The higher the wave,
The greater the risk of
Falling in,
Being submerged,
Drowning.
The higher the elation,
The more froth and foam.

Myself, riding, the wave of Presence
Smack in the middle!
Divinely appointed
Within my true nature.

Wicked webs

We spin a spell,
Weave a yarn,
And this creates our web of belief.

What wicked webs we weave...
But only when we think that we're the Weaver.
Our actions spiral out into Pi,
Easy to abstract, hard to divine.

I catch myself dancing on the twin blade
Of pride at my own brilliance,
And humiliation that I cannot be brilliant at will.
But the brilliance escapes me none the less.

Love

Love, Love, Love it flowers in me.
Grace, grace, grace, it hovers over me.
I penetrate the heart of Being
Where my soul drinks the waters of Emptiness.
Cool, cold, clear divine wellspring of Love, Love, Love.

Bigfoot

There's always a bigger game afoot.
But sometimes I get tunnel vision
Looking for your light at the end of the tunnel

I am the Light.
Looking for it outside myself is darkness.
But when I saw your smiling face
Radiant with light
I forgot that you were my reflection.
I looked into the mirror darkly.
Wanting you to keep shining on me.

Collaboration

Stonecatcher
it's the way that I think it should be
even though my vision is fading fast
I can feel you talking to me
somewhere deep beneath the pool

if you're dancing in the 21st century chaos
feel the heat of the fire
everybody some kind of talking head
trying to consume their desire

how have you managed to keep it all
in this strange land of the disconnect
i would be happy to rub of on you
taste the fruit of your dreams

I know it's all about waking-up
from the stories I'm told
transcend the role of this fantasy
receive the love when it comes.

Lakshmi
In a land before contradiction
In a place before dreams
Here was I born.
Before there was a One
There was None.
No role, no pole
No Self to improve
That’s my mantra
Or that’s my woman tra
Re-seive the truth
Awake, asleep, its all a divine dream
And you the divine dreamer
Try jumping into that primordial chaos
(the one just outside of Time)
And then tell me there’s something wrong
With the poetry of this existence
X is tense
When you are
X is Tens (to the power of)
When you are, cosmic strawberry.

Collaboration

Collaboration

it's the way that I think it should be
even though my vision is fading fast
I can feel you talking to me
somewhere deep beneath the pool

if you're dancing in the 21st century chaos
feel the heat of the fire
everybody some kind of talking head
trying to consume their desire

how have you managed to keep it all
in this strange land of the disconnect
i would be happy to rub of on you
taste the fruit of your dreams

I know it's all about waking-up
from the stories I'm told
transcend the role of this fantasy
receive the love when it comes.

In a land before contradiction
In a place before dreams
Here was I born.
Before there was a One
There was None.
No role, no pole
No Self to improve
That’s my mantra
Or that’s my woman tra
Re-seive the truth
Awake, asleep, its all a divine dream
And you the divine dreamer
Try jumping into that primordial chaos
(the one just outside of Time)
And then tell me there’s something wrong
With the poetry of this existence
X is tense
When you are
X is Tens (to the power of)
When you are, cosmic strawberry.

Thirst

I drink thirstily.
My body, used to being deserted
Doesn’t know what to do with this rainfall.
Like rain in the desert…

Would a desert be a desert if it rained constantly?
No, it would evolve.
Plants would grow, new flowers would bloom
Insects would come
Pools and eddies would form,
where frogs croak, and fish play.
A Garden of Eden.

My body too, grows wondrous and abundant
With such moist blessings.
No need to do a rain dance....
It runs freely in my veins,
The Water of Life.

Soul Touch

I became as Nothing.
My soul pierced by your tone,
My flesh melting in your love,
Your song rippling through me,
My dark night, 40 years long.
I cry dry tears for it.

But I have forgiven...
And here I am, wholly,
In your celestial arms
Waves of tenderness rising,
At the crossroads of Time.
My dark night become radiant.
My heart eclipsed no more.

The Coming of Age of the Human

Humanity has reached a pinnacle of achievement and decadence.
Anything is possible in this best of all possible worlds.
The adolescent dreamer awakens to a nightmarish world
of her own creation, a world of instant gratification,
fast cars, low technology and very little substance.

I am the possible human in this equation, waking up
to my self-created destiny.
I am firmly caught in the webs of this world,
and my desire for a simpler, easier way to be,
a return to innocence, is growing.
The peculiar task that has been appointed to me, to my generation,
is to be a bridge between an old collapsing culture,
and a new one that is still unformed and dark.
For a while I must straddle both worlds,
subject to death throes and birth pangs at once,
and they are both most real in their intensity.

A New Age does not come by itself.
It is a confluence of nature, and the steps are available
For those who would dare to tread in deep waters.
It is the Will of Man that creates the new age,

We have lived our entire lives in separation.
In the separation lies the seed of the discontent
That pervades humanity.
The nuclear family has created the nuclear age.
Our wills have become weak, as governments and computers
Dictate to us more and more what we
May and may not do.
Statistics drown out dreams, numbers crunch visions.

Standing at the end of an age, I carry with me
All the corruption and wisdom of my history,
The fatigue that comes from having lived too long with it.
And yet within me are the seeds of my own rebirth.
Seeds that cry to be infused with new vitality, the God-force.
I light new candles on the guttering carcasses of the old.
Delve into and clean out my depths, so I can see clearly again
and am able to gaze again into the limpid pool of my Self.
I en-vision my life anew.

I have gained the power of Self-reflection.
I have never been saner or clearer, or more lucid
than when I am in the vibration of ecstasy,
This is my dream, to be this way,
To exist in God’s vibration and create, by reflection,
The beauty in my own mind.
This is the aspiration and the humble wish
for new beginnings.
The desire to feel again the Prime Ordeal.

Tri-unity

God radiates out from my center, creating
A binocular vision.
Huge godly arms adjusting the lenses:
His. Hers.
My breath quicker, deeper.
A divine Consciousness peering out through dual eyes
One being behind the two forms
One Munificient being, and when
The view is Perfect.
My breath faster.
There is only
A single vision. Crystal clear.
Three becomes one.
My breath comes.

No words

No words can touch me like your hand.
This language we both understand.
No voice can match your breath's caress
No thought can pierce this solid flesh.
This my mind can't misconstrue.
Because the heart and soul are true.

Gifted

Some things are clearly a gift from God.
Like a miraculous healing,
A stroke of inspiration,
An economic windfall,
A narrow escape from death.
Others, we readily take credit for:
Like great physical beauty,
Being smart as a whip,
Being a good writer, a filmmaker,
A CEO, a visionary, a sculptor,
an heir,...

But wait a minute here--lets look this gift horse in the mouth.
This mouth--clearly a gift from God.
This life--the first gift.
This body--bundled with gift number 1.
This planet--clearly a gift.

Now what does that leave out that's not a gift?
Those I can take credit for.

Solo Song

Hear the song composed and performed by Jovani
In the primacy of my heart
My soul awaits
Singing in the darkness
Day after day after day.
And on some days
My solo song
Rises to meet
A morning gone wrong
And sweetens my view again.

In the primacy of my heart
My soul awaits
Singing in the darkness
Day after day after day.
Until one day
That solo song
Rises to meet
Your morning song
And sweetens the world again.

Real Eyes Perceive All

Humans.
Just tiny specks on a ball,
Hurtling through space at 67,000 miles an hour
In a galaxy filled with other heavenly bodies.

God could wipe the windshield clean of these specks in
One divine stroke
And Creation would drive on without missing a beat.

But wait. We're sentient.
We have the will and the desire to realize God.
Surely, that's why we were created...
With this exquisite attunement to pain and joy
So that when we realize God
God can have the satisfaction of
Being realized.

Hear it.

Have you noticed that people are often talking to themselves
When they are in dialogue with an Other?
Especially when there is conflict,
A symptom of de-vision.
Pay close attention to what you say,
And what 'they' say
Listen to the allegations
The defenses,
The judgments.
Listen with the true heart.

The slings and arrows of contention
Are thrown at the mirror of
the divided Self, reflected as the Other.

There is no Other.
Every sling and arrow boomerangs
Back to oneself as the source of all cause and effect.
As they say in dream therapy,
(And Life is, after all, a dream.)
Substitute 'I' for 'him', 'her' and 'they'
And the defensive weapons will transform
Into arrows of Truth,
That pierce through the veil of Separation
To the heart of Unity.

In Divide Dual

Today I awoke with an invisible hand
clutching the back of my neck
In a vice grip. My ego?
What vice is that? That is seizing me?
What errant thought has commandeered
The passageway between
My heart and my mind?
Between Heaven and Earth?
Even as I write these words, the hold loosens.
One by one, I pry open the talons.

On the threshold of every big leap into
The free-fall of spiritual awareness
The ego, in divided dual blindness
Blocks the Way.
I am patient. Infinitely patient.
Time is of no matter to me.
The ego is my ally. I meet it halfway.
Our meeting is incendiary, like a forest fire,
Burning away the dross
In THIS body. Making a clearing.
And afterwards, amongst the charred remains,
I will grow more lush and green.
Peace and Tranquility become visible.
In the clear light of a new Era.

Plus-Minus

Negate has no gate
And no way through.
A mine-us sign of separation
Just a horizontal, without the vertical
Half full, half empty,
That wobbly world of shifting poles.

Positive is a good position.
Plus its in the middle of the poles.
The Middle Way.
Add vertical to horizontal, and
You see through the glass,
Through the world of shifting possibilities
To that infinite field of dreams
Where there is always room
For another good thought...
For another impossible dream...
For another heartfelt wish for a better world.

Doubt free

Doubt has a silent b.
Subtle has a silent b.
Be silent.
In silence, the subtle voice of in-tuition
Comes forth....
In images...
In words...
A flash of insight...
A synaptic crackle...
A rising tide of excitement.
One sees causes and effects rippling out
Into the future.

Therefore...
Don't voice the doubt.
Don't doubt the subtle.
Just act on it now.

My Every Thought

Once more tumbled out into the dark skin of Night.
I float free, dare not speak my terror,
I turn to this poem to save me from error.

The light enclosed by the body, it rests in delight
And I too must dance with it, joyous as the endless Night.

And so I will.
Step out onto that striped tiger waiting giantly there for me.

Let it go my little Me,
Her fears and petty plight
I will step out into the light

Living as though...
I Might Be love
I Might Believe,
My every thought has the power
to create...
SUBSTANCE.

The Heart of the Journey

Here's an inkling
For the weakling
The key to inner chi
The ling Am I,
The sacred phallus.
The Seed of energy.
Caught in the land of
Linguistics
A cunning tongue indeed.
But if you can unravel the spell
The Word will set you free.

The penis a sword
Designed to pierce the veil
Of Female mystery.
Unlocked by Feeling
The golden flower
Yields it’s nectar secretly.

Fee, Five, Foe, Fine
Sits in the middle of nine
The Feminine Divine.
Five, the magic number
The dark star that revives
Waits in the dell of Fidelity
The Valley of Ecstasy

The movement that matters
No plunge in the dark.
Moving unwilled yet willing
from root to the heart:
It’s the heart of the journey,
The journey to the heart.
If you take that plunge
With eyes wide open
You will meet no Other
In cosmic Union.

Seetha

Catalyst:
To cause a change
Yet remain unperturbed.
To lean a ship,
A Relation ship
List to the left
List to the right
This way, that way
Every which way
Until there’s no inclinations.
Only inklings….
And the ridge
Of earth
Between the furrows
Plowed side by side
One way to Always.

Meaning of Me

The Twin Towers
A gross magnification of Me

My life dramas
Are going on outside the kitchen sink
As are yours
If you would only take your stunned syes
Off the TV and question the myth
Unfolding before you for meaning.
The Me in the Mean
And the Me in the theMe

Trivialized
By vicarious fascination
you sit on the couch watching
or I sit on the meditation bench
Not witnessing
The greater story unfold
As though I had no part in it
As though it were beyond my concern
The story is completely shielded from my reflections, both in the mirror
And in the shades that reflect only
Me, Me, Me
The perfect and impenetrable fortress against
Hunger
Poverty
Grief
War
And Love
A private cocoon of misery
Reflected in a public cocoon of
Mystery

But cocoons give birth to chrysalis
And butterflies are free.

The Tree of Life

I wade in the pool
Words rushing through my mind
THE TAO
If you touch it, it eludes you
If you grasp it, it slips
If you push it, you fall
If you revere it, you stumble
If you misunderstand it, you fail

It’s the gleam of a sunbeam hitting a pupil
The intention in the whining of a power tool
It’s everywhere, discernable in the slightest thing
They call it the ETERNAL MYS TERY

A Fool on the Hill

The dark soil of my body
is fertile ground
For Thy tree to grow.
I will water it patiently and watch,
—like a fool on the hill—
as Presence gradually fills up
the landscape of my Being.

Green Tao

I invite all my parts to graze in greenness
I call this the meadow walking through the maiden
I change Fortune’s Destiny.
I call this Shaping Fate

INTENTION

Held in tension
A thought!
Cradled in Love
An image! A feeling!
Excitement rises in me
Like the night before Christmas
I know that my wish-list
Will be fulfilled
Under that Tree of Life

I know that my Presence
Is the flower,
My attention the stem
My intention the seed.
And my Being is the root
Of all ATTRACTION

His Story

Myths are our own pronouncements of destiny
We are the myth-makers and our stories
Are our personal legends of the Fall,
the Resurrection, and the Promised Land
These are all contained within a lifetime
Love and Fear stand side-by-side
Angels, guarding the doors of Heaven
And Hell.

I live inside my history.
It becomes me as I become it.
But my myth is really my
Opportunity
A port, with an old sailor whistling
a tune on the dock
And he’s whistling an ode to the ferryman
Because you cannot cross the river without Him.

And the ferryman is Death
Death of a loved one.
Death of a child.
Death of a relationship.

Walking into the valley of the shadow of death
I descend into wholeness again
and start another cycle, a new age.

Where does my story begin and yours end?
Does it begin and end with what I am able to
know about you?
Sometimes you are completely transparent to me
At other times dense as a doorknob.

Our stories slide one on top of the other
Creating innumerable opportunities
For the Eternal Truth to dart
Between the letters,
Between the keystrokes,
Between the lashes,
Between the tweens,
Between being able to catch yourself
at the moment you begin to imitate yourself,
And between being afraid that you won’t.

I’ve tasted death enough times
to know that this body too will die.
Just as the stories of my life have been
willed and impelled and compelled
by the uncertain logic of who Me is,
This body too is a story,
a figment of a divine dream,
And this body too must die.

But the Eternal Truth remains that I AM
neither story nor storyteller.

Dancing Buddha

Dancing Buddha in my mind
Listening to the tune Divine
Lightening up another twine
Between the Me, the Mean and Mine.

Untwist now these mortal coils!
Cut loose every patterned foible
Now I've got a helping hand.
Strand by strand I understand.

An Ode to the Candle Maker

Tears wax dripping to the spiritual flame

Burning, burning away our shame.

At end of Age, we carry along

A history of hate, and Wisdom's song.

Some things right, so many wrong.

But the dream of Innocence is born again

It grows in hearts prepared by pain.

We light new candles from the old

We gather back into the fold.

For within our wicked world is a wick,

~Always dancing~

To the flame of Eternal Love.

The Light is Constantly Whispering

I have looked inside a million portals
Out each a beautiful whisper

Saying it is you, it is you
Who must find beauty
standing full
Among leaves of artifice
and words of wrath
and even acts so foul
that spirit shrinks
….because…

By drawing down
the shades of violence
we begin the bloody night
mare galloping blindly
trapped in a cage
rent by the Age
Just words on a page?
Then comes the knight
to ride the steed
meet the need
Rescue the mare

As the rise of dawn
destroys without question
the shadows of night
So it is I who must see
the heart of the unknown
the precious jewel
reflected in the limitless forms

The knight is I
as is the mare
words in my heart, words on my face

Kabir Kadre Lakshmi Narayan

Not knowing

Tap tap tap
On the keys
Tap tap tap
On my Psyche

Insistent?
Not really.
I could ignore it.
But wouldn't that be
something like ignorance?

Who are you?
And who am I?
Mysteries, both.
Unfurling,
Like my heart.

Not-knowing, is contentment.

Throwing New Light on Darkness

It is the nature of Light to embrace the Darkness.
It is the nature of Darkness to conceal the light.

Recondite: Hidden from view
Recondition: Make new

Concealing the light. Softly glow within
Hidden from in Jury. That inner critic
Who sentences me incessantly.

I am the Light.
Looking for it outside myself
is Darkness.

Darkness is Underrated. This makes Eve ill
Miss Understood. An Understudy
Go Down Under. So you can Under Stand
That it’s only Eve being ill

Make her well again.

Lift up the hem of Evil’s skirt and look Under.
You’ll find God there, dancing alone in the dark.




Fiery Grace

There is in Me, a fiery Grace
Emblazoned in my psychic Space
My signature of Spirit in Soul
Breathing out this body Whole….
And while I’m Here…
I’ll spend a spell, and sell a well,
……of Being.

Then,
Freedom’s flame it fans my Heart
It sparks my Will, I play my Part.
My cheeky smile, it dares to win.
It re-igKnights my intuition.
I see the path quite simply, clearly
There’s the Truth, it’s X-pressed w-Holy.
An S-SENSE felt by my
5 Senses.
It’s Physical, a phi-cycle.

The truth is curved, it’s mirrored HERE
By a SPHERE
A round ball SPins, It’s HERE.
I stand on it, spinning……
…………….feeling………
………..marveling.

Space

Give me space,
and I'll give you spaciousness.

Make your ceiling high-domed,
Like a temple,
And you'll see the fabulous geometry of
life playing like a sun-shadowed
mosaic pattern on your walls.

Hold your breath,
Become quiet,
And in that still small space
Your mind will know with certainty
That the heart is true,
And nothing gets wasted.

Nature doesn't work like that.
Not even human nature.

Whole Futures

Poetry in my soul
Moonlight in my eyes
Sweet rush of chaos
How can I explain?
Words betray me, they
appear faster than I can write.
Images flash by.
Whole futures,
God awake in the world,
Golden ages.
Images last longer, a half-life,
And I strive to grasp them,
Render them
Tell them
What I see.

Sky of Mind, Body of Truth

Sky of Mind, Body of Truth

Help me see through the illusion

of Self, and Other.

Drop the veils of Perception

From the Eyes of my Heart

And let me feel the Oneness

That permeates all Being

That plays out this Part.

For I am caught in the illusion

Pain-body so tight.

Shadows of old fright, plague me at night.

Thank God, I know better.

I've heard Truth's Song.

It's a scratchy old song—replayed too many times.

Give me a fresh melody of Oneness

For THIS moment, and this, and this moment too.....

Sky of Mind, Body of Truth.

No Self, no Other, only Ruth.

Before the Vale

How does the good prevail?
Its before the shadow,
And before the vale.
How is innocence lost?
It happens when the shadow looms large
And the protectors are not about.
Why are they not about?
Because, the shadow looms large and the good is veiled.
Its Life. A story most real.

Harmless

God, please help me.
Keep me from overthinking.
Allow some of these bad feelings to just go by,
Without taking form.
Let them be released harmlessly back into the
Emptiness from which they arose.
For I am Self, living this most realistic illusion
of being Lakshmi, a person in a body.
And I am also Non-Self, the source of all illusion.

Binoculars

God radiates out from my center, creating
A binocular vision.
Huge godly arms adjusting the lenses:
His. Hers.
My breath quicker, deeper.
A divine Consciousness peering out through dual eyes
But One being behind the two forms
One Munificient being, and when
The view is Perfect.
My breath faster.
There is only
A single vision. Crystal clear.
Three becomes one.
My breath comes.

Brilliance

Love exists
before and after
this moment.

The sands of time in our glass count eternity.
Infinitely counting Time
Time to tell the truth.

We spin a spell, weave a yarn
And these threads create our web of belief.
We are devoured by a web of our own making.

What wicked webs we weave.
But only when we think that we’re the weaver
Our actions spiral out into Pi
Easy to abstract, hard to divine

I catch myself dancing on the twin blade
Of pride at my own brilliance
And humiliation that I cannot be brilliant at will.

But the brilliance escapes me none the less.

Fired

I fired my mind today.
It was for acting above and beyond
the call of duty.

Unknowable

The un-knowable is just a word.
It means nothing!
However,
Nothing is not un-knowable.

You too, will eat your words one day.

Internal Dialogue

The reason we have “internal dialogue”
is because we think
there’s someone else there listening.
When one does this out loud,
and is walking alone down the street,
they call him a raving lunatic.
When one does this out loud,
and he’s in the White House,
they call him the President.

When I stop having imaginary
conversations with myself —
Then, I will have something to say.

Donkey

Spiritual practices are like holding
out a carrot to a donkey.
A good teacher doesn’t give you carrots.
She tells you you’re A DONKEY.

Water of Life

Consciousness is my cupped hands
holding the water of life.
I fold my hands in silent prayer.

Where is the water?

Conundrum

Man longs to know it all.
God longs for immortal forgetting.
And so a child is born.

God dreams perfectly.
Man dreams imperfectly.
Hence the conflict.

Love Poem to God

You whisper sweet Nothing in my ear
in the still of the night.
For centuries I have played this game of
seduction wih you.
I draw closer, and then hide behind the veil again.
You stay constant, devoted, patient,
waiting for me to wake up.

I am a woman now...
bored with silly games of flirtation.
Kiss me deeply…….
And let this taste linger on my lips all morning.

Firelight

All day long I think about the fireplace.
At night, I sit intently watching the fire.
I’m tired of all these flaming thoughts,
They leave me cold.
There are stories flickering in the firelight
Waiting to be told.

Evolution

Keep casting pearls before swine.
One day—it doesn’t matter when—
the swine become oysters.

prayer

As I lay me down to sleep
The ego rests in quiet deep.
As I sleep I come to be
A spark of your Eternity.

As I wake to a new day
Help me get out of the way
Let my actions be inspired
By true wisdom, by pure grace
Let my thoughts be free, unmired
By the past, by old disgrace
For I can be a sword of Truth
If I will walk this razor’s edge
With certain step and Gentleness.

Surround

I am surrounded by God
I surround God
So round.

Bursting!

There is a great Love in my heart
Bursting at the seams!
Looking upon the face of a total stranger,
and wanting to shout "I love you!"
This Love—what do I do with it?
It longs to be expressed.
And yet I am so shy. Why am I shy?
Give me an instrument to express this Love with.
Let me Love and be Loved as Thee.

I am Nothing

I am Nothing.
I wear this body
to walk down the road with you a while.

THIS IS

THIS IS A
subtler,
stronger
cleaner,
quicker,
sweeter,
smarter,
bigger,
brasher,
deeper,
denser,
mistier,
mystery
THAN I THOUGHT

I AM

I am the water and the wetness
I am the thirst and the fire
I am the desert and the flower
I am the path and the power.

I am the well of desire
I am the rope that breaks
I am the jug that’s cracked
I am the water that leaks.

I am the blinding, I am the blind.
I am the epic, I am the Mind.

I AM
All of these, and none of the above.

MAHAMANTRA

We’ve been in a big spell. 26,000 year spell of time. And that spell needs to be broken by a different kind of spell, a healing mantra. And this healing mantra has vibration (vib = color,) (ratio = reason/number), (ration = a small portion, or a little piece for everyone)

Sound and sound vibrations being the agent for change on the planet. Healing the sound of the planet. Healing the sounds we make, namely our words, our speech. This is the biggest mantra of all.

Unlocking the keys in lan(d)guage, gauging the land, and seeing and breaking the spell that holds us in apathy.

What is the myth about Mahamantra?

That this mantra will deliver us. But its not really mouthing some chants, it is understanding that mantra is sound and sound is vibration, and we are sound-makers.

Every word we speak is a mantra.
Collectively, we are creating the Mahamantra.

Love is Present

There is Love present in this room.
Love comes masquerading as anger
as pain....as tears...
as a story of suffering
And then, in the most unpredictable way
Love shows its true face….
The face of grace
The light in the eye shedding a tear
The arms that hold softly when the heart is heavy
A lyrical dance amongst the ashes of yesterday’s pain
Breathing new life into the Universe.

The Fifth

Light a candle my dear……and let it die.
That butterfly’s melting.
It’s wings won’t fly.
Four flames burn bright
To show you what’s right
And the fifth within
Sings a silent hymn.
To new love.

Visionary Vine

I am one of those wandering
in the debris of irresponsibility
Crumbling monoliths of grandiose resolve
left by those who rampaged before me.

If I am to build again,
I must reach deep into the dirt
Buried in the past is a truth that’s whole.

I will build a simple house,
one of stone and sunlight—
with a visionary vine climbing
up the window to the stars!

Elationship

A disciple uses discipline
An adept adapts.

Leadership is a relationship between Two—
One leading and one following.

In Oneness there are no leaders,
Only the ship sailing in the wind.

Hummer of Love

Is it just my imagination?
…..Or did the whole world turn sweeter?
In the flash of a synapse
a hair's breadth away?
Nothing really shifted.
But it did anyway.
Your hand gently brushed aside
My hair…….No! my face.
And behind my face - the whole human race!
Galaxies spinning, in sync with my cells
Angels and devils, whistles and bells.
Insight comes streaming, like Light through the eye
Seriously sober, curiously high.

A dark liquid throbbing.
A pulsating sound.
I don’t recognize it….
I think its the ground.
But wait—its my heart, my heart!
My heart’s in the journey at last

The Motive and Motor
The Divine Promoter
The Dark Saboteur
The Hummer of Love.
My heart.

Abel's Quest

Abel was an able man
Once Innocent and free
Lost his vision through division
Stumbled, scrambling for the key
But the key was locked in sadness
Deaf to push and plea

He pondered here, he wandered there
T'was all to no avail
Until one day in deep travail
His labor sudden fruit did yield
A hummingbird flew in his heart
On wings of ecstasy

She set his heart a-fluttering
In matching symphony
He knew again the joy of life
From root to heart to crown
It's essence wafted through his form
In humble majesty

The Eternal Truth

Myths are our own pronouncements of Destiny.
We are the myth-makers and our stories
Are our personal legends of the Fall,
the Resurrection,
and the Promised Land.
These are all contained within a lifetime.
Love and Fear stand side-by-side,
Angels, guarding the doors of Heaven. And Hell.

I live inside my history.
It becomes me as I become it.
But my myth is really my Opportunity
A port, with an old sailor
whistling a tune on the dock
And he’s whistling an ode to the ferryman.
Because you cannot cross the river without Him.
The ferryman is Death.
Death of a loved one.
Death of a child.
Death of a relationship.
Walking into the valley of the shadow of death
I descend into wholeness again
and start another cycle, a new age.

Where does my story begin and yours end?
Does it begin and end with what I am
able to know about you?
Sometimes you are completely transparent to me
At other times dense as a doorknob.
Our stories slide one on top of the other
Creating innumerable opportunities
For the Eternal Truth to dart
Between the letters,
Between the keystrokes,
Between the lashes,
Between the tweens,
Between being able to catch yourself
at the moment you begin to imitate yourself
And between being afraid that you won’t.

I’ve tasted death enough times
to know that this body too, will die.
Just as the stories of my life have been
willed and impelled and compelled
by the uncertain logic of who Me is,
this body too is someone else’s story
a figment of a beautiful dream
and this body too must die.

But the eternal truth remains that
I AM neither story nor storyteller.

Intimacy

Into me see
And what's left of Me
Unravels like a ball of light
Stripped of Mystery
For I AM the great divide
I multiply and equalize.
Sometimes mine-us too.
My heart is simple,
Rhythmic arithmetic
Beats to Nothing,
Rings in One
Is coupled to Two,
Is split by Three.
So on and so Fourth,
Quintessentially.

A sequence of sequins,
Stars…..
Uni verse chants
Mathematics, the Mother's theme
Dances in Patterns, the Father turns
Matter patters endlessly,
It’s Sacred Geometry.

A complex tune, a formless chant
Sometimes I see it, sometimes I can't.