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.