Simple being

Wanting nothing

Grace of God sufficed;

Knowing that which is Eternal

From the empty passing life;

You and I, confusion’s sinners

When we find ourselves in strife;

What becomes too complex for the humble soul.

Senses calling endlessly

Disturbing inner peace;

Turning what is child of God

To what ourselves can please;

Fighting any thought of suffering,

Dying, sickness or disease;

We become the shadow

Which from the light the body stole.

Man too human

Lost at sea

Without an inner rudder

No longer speaks in Spirit flowing

But stammers, stalls and stutters.

2012.07.26.0900 ©

I feel every inch of my body and skin

My mind, like the air, is slow and thick;

What is too long in the moment,

Anything that I am with

Would to every sensibility seem to stick;

I would move a slower rhythm

That my breath might follow suit,

Any cover to come near me

Would need be soft and light and loose

And exertion would find no acceptance

Only justified excuse

For a long and cool and shady kind of treat.

Yet I fight the same engagement

On this day as any other

To find God and soul and prayer

And maybe sister or a brother

As a subject or an object,

The intention of a lover

For the journey that does not change

Despite the heat.

2012.06.22.0500 ©

what turns emptiness

from an asset before the fullness of grace

to a longing liability in a larcenous place

where one takes what one needs

and then makes all the space

that is required by a ravenous heart?

why it is vanity

that has all which it could envision

and then reaches for itself in each moment’s decision

to stand steady before any rank or division

that would conquer it’s ability to start

shining as the light of creation,

brimming with its own expectation,

longing for some spark of sensation,

to avoid the experience of the dark.

2012.05.07.1200.dipa ©

Prisoner of who I was or who I came to be.

Captive of the image that the other sees in me.

Struggling more than the American spirit in the effort to be free.

Finding what my soul would need to keep it orderly.

Lost within a ritual or not one there to find

As I journey too much round my body and my mind

Moving in a pilgrimage too bereft of grace

Speeding to an end unnatural, gone without a trace.

2012.05.29.0300 ©

ILLUSIONS

It does not take a whole lot

Of what my soul is not

To distort

The being who I am alone;

So I pray my God

To take

The visions and the sounds

Of the lies and the deceptions

I have known:

What has shone as light in what should be the darkness,

What has grown as habit where I should be free,

What has thrown itself to where I’d live as conscious

To become the stone that I would think as me.

2012.05.25.0100 ©

BROKE

Emptiness is silence.

It is darkness.

It is death.

It is finding who I am

Without the rhythm of my breath.

It is seeing more where I am now

Than where I was or went.

It is knowing I am not alone

And much more than how I’m spent.

2012.05.22.1200 ©

Every moment alone has a siren

That calls to the silence within,

Come leave what is precious enchantment, your soul.

Come run to unholy abandon.

Your Christ is a vision uncertain.

The senses are the only thing sure.

What world would enrich now your presence?

Which dream leave you orphaned and poor?

You know what is clear proper knowledge.

You’ve seen all the black and the white.

You have what you need and need dare not concede

To the testament of a flickering light.

Embrace what is clearly before you.

Bow down to that altar so bold.

Forget what you cannot approach without feeling

The magic of its wondrous hold.

The pain and the suffering will wait there

In the shadow of thousands of days

Where the present will beckon our homage

With the promise that our pleasure stays.

2012.01.08.1900 ©