Poets Dream

I am Mute
about the Future
I know it but cannot Articulate it
I sense it, but cannot make sense of it
Give me El-O-quence
Whence does it come from?
How many others would become mothers and brothers
If only I could speak about
A way of relating
That dwells in Oneness
Comes before Twoness
Dreams of Honor and Greatness of Soul
And the sacred Unwinding of the road
To the eternal Apple Tree

Strategy is a poem

Strategy is a poem.
A flight of stairs.
A stair step of surrenders.
A foot, a path.
A heartbeat.
A vision glimmering in the distance...
Easy to abstract, hard to divine

What shines?

The Moon and me,
Two celestial bodies
Shining upon each other.

What shines?
What gives Light luminosity?
What gives Me radiance?

Eternal Mystery, my story.

Love Spring

My love for you is like a Field of flowers
In bloom today
Vast, endless expanse of Green love
That You could take a nap in
With your face towards the Sun
And your skin soaking up the Earth.

Sometimes the Field lies fallow
in Winter's discontent.
But not for Long...
For Love springs Eternal in my Heart,
Every blooming time.

Falling in Time

Let them all fall away.
The intentional transgressions,
the unintentional ones,
the aggressions, the regressions,
digressions and progressions.

Time is just forgiving.

Adoreway

Closes with indignation
Opens with acceptance
Closes with criticism
Opens with praise
Closes when full
Opens when empty

crucify the ego

Crucify the ego on the Cross of Consciousness
Dis-orient yourself to its patterns
Or Life will Disorient you
Suck you into the Vortex of a storm
In which you're helplessly tossed
To and fro,
On waves of despair and disrepair
Stranded on arrogant beaches
Drenched with humiliation
Gasping for gratitude
Thirsty for Love
Until your heart opens to the truth of Oneness.

Aftermath

In an inSTant, a serpent on a tree.
A Mystery.
Humanity a hundred billion cells projected.
Self the trajectory,
Dying in the aftermath of an Original idea.

This I Know.

The bottomless Mystery,
She dwells in Me.

The midnight Earth,
Belongs to the Free.

Freedom does not come unsought.
Freedom does not come when called.
Freedom does not come with age.

But Freedom comes when Life and Fate,
Conspire to rattle your Cage.

Arc Angel

I feel myself on the long arc of history
Time the Hologram
Myself Holo graphic
The Quest-in turned Outward.
I feel the pain in Dylan's voice, blowin' in the Wind
I feel myself full of Answers
And before they blow away in the Wind...
I'll blow your Mind with them.

Falling in Time

Let them all fall away.
The intentional transgressions,
the unintentional ones,
the aggressions, regressions,
digressions and progressions.

Time is just for giving.

Gilded Fool

Siezed by doubt.
Paralyzed before the next step:
Descent into Matter again.
People, opinions, ideas.
Some part of me wants to stay safe
And reclusive in my own energy.

But the voice holds the resonance of the heart
The eyes see-k the resonance of the soul
The body as bridge betwixt and between.
And I have a myth to unfold.

How can I traverse this path and come out laughing?

Wake up! Wake up! Oh gilded fool.
This is a ruse, it is the Muse
Preparing the soil of this native daughter
Making it impossible for any to doubt her.