I wonder what revelation is hiding
In the stream of consciousness
Which we are riding; between
The opinions we together are siding and
What the Spirit in the silence is guiding?
I bet it is a dialectic of sorts,
Thesis, antithesis and synthesis, of course
Of the sacred’s and the profanes’s long and shorts
As we listen for the notes and the chords
While we dance.
2015.12.10.0605
Oh, what will I do without you?
I think, then I come to my sense;
It is only G-od
Who in the end I will require
In the appreciation of
The present tense.
So who is that you,
Of which I am speaking,
Without whom I cannot exist?
It is the light and the darkness
About you and about me
In a confusing
But curious
Twist.
2015.09.27.0600
I would rather the thought of
Nothing
Than the pain and the non-sense
That clutters
My memory:
Nothing
Goes a long way
In quieting
The noise of the world
Which I have permitted
To invade my soul:
Nothing
Does not add to the problem:
Nothing
Frees me now and
Later and
Forever:
Would that I could find
Nothing and
Be satisfied with
Nothing
Always!
2015.08.22.0634
To relax in the moment,
What a challenge!
To leave everything up to the Source;
To give up my voice
To the harmony and
To be a part of the people,
The chorus:
Not to be afraid of anything,
All miscues will fade
In the strength
Of the note that flows best
In the ear of the beholder
That from the choice of the Maestro
Was meant.
2015.07.08.1239
Life is more alive
On the edge;
Like riding a bicycle,
Always moving and
Always searching for
Balance:
Living on
Some edge
Some axis,
Some plane,
Some interface;
Always needing balance,
Never able to close the eyes
To anything.
2015.07.09.1515
How can I fail this moment?
How can I fail to live this moment?
How can I fail to acknowledge that eternity exists right now?
Yet, I do;
Hundreds of times a day
When I just don’t see it
That way.
2015.06.09.1725
Life is soon to blossom
With an intention all its own
Despite, and without regard
For, any actions which I may have
Shown to my liking;
I must have its same sap within me;
I must be a part of its root or its vine;
I must choose to move
With the way the wind blows; and
I must lose
All the inclinations of mine
That do not give birth
To the tomorrow
That the Eternal, the Creator,
The Spirit has within
The intimate confines of its mind.
Wind me up!
Set me on my way!
Do not give me reason
To see the light of another day
If I do not fit
Within the docile lines,
That It would draw
About Itself.
2015.04.14.0946