Archive for category poems

I Sing the Body Ecstatic


Lights of Void

Here is a vision of my future self and a vision for anyone else who desires to achieve something along these lines:

It is not just another day.

I swim in the ocean of bliss.

I merge with the beauty that I am and the beauty that we are.  I sing the body ecstatic.  I consciously raise my vibration out of the ordinary into the extraordinary.

I am alive with the wellness of Being.

I am no longer bound by the constraints of frustration and the boredom of routine.  This is the new world I have been seeking.  In this moment, amidst the peace and the flow, nothing else matters.

The problems of the world don’t exist.  My perceived problems don’t exist because the wall of separation is breaking down—like the Berlin Wall.

The minor irritations don’t exist because everything is taken care of in this moment of sublime peace and bliss.

Yes, it is possible to live in an ocean of tranquility; to drink divine nectar; to radiate joy to every person I meet; to live beyond prescribed norms.

The Heart of Life opens.  I jump from my perch of uncertainty and the light opens its arms to me.  It is a good light.  It will not hurt me.  I trust it will take me where my heart truly wants to go.

I am not alone.  I fear no evil.  I have faith.  I have trust.  I believe in myself and the essential goodness of my creator.

I am love.  I am beauty.  I am everything I want to be and beyond.

There is no end to the depths and heights of this glorious reality.

 

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As Being Comes Alive


 

As Being comes alive in me…               

…Fear and anxiety dissipate

…I feel more peace

…Every action I take has meaning

…Heaviness yields to lightness

…Clarity, simplicity, and focus become second nature

…The future is uncertain yet full of possibilities for creativity and enjoyment

…I can make every breath serve a higher purpose

BEING COMES ALIVE

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Giving Up to Get Ahead


Sunset Over MexicoEvery so often, it’s not such a bad idea to give up.

The word I really want to use is surrender, but I’m not really sure what that word means in the truest sense. I’m going to barge right ahead and use it anyway.

Once every ten years or so, I get to the point where I just want to surrender. I feel like I have done everything that can be done to accomplish my goals, and nothing seems to be happening. The feeling usually lasts for anywhere between three minutes and three days.

The funny thing is I find that I actually get somewhere when I reach this point. In one sense, it’s a scary place, a place of desperation, a feeling of being at the end of my rope. But I’ve found it can be an auspicious place. I wrote this yesterday on the subject (in less than three minutes).

I want to go higher, but don’t know how. It seems like I’ve tried everything, only to fall, crashing back to earth, unkindly.

I think, however, I’ve been this way before. When it seems like I have looked in every crevice and corner, turned over every stone, in search of the faintest glimmer of light—the light is usually not very far away.

There comes a time when Grace is met by human effort. I know that Grace will have to come sooner, rather than later, because I have been relentless in my pursuit of peace, joy, and love. Life becomes much easier when you know what you want.

One of the good things about advancing age is that it makes it easier to focus on priorities. I mean real priorities—the meaningful stuff, because the clock is ticking, louder and louder. There simply isn’t time to screw around with trivialities and false values. I’m tired of the tricks my mind plays on me. I’m tired of chasing my tail. I’m tired of being lost in the fun house of illusion.

I want the real thing—the beauty within my heart—and I know that it can’t be far away. I’ve been everywhere, done everything, made a fool of myself, and accomplished a few things. You can’t elude me much longer, dear Friend.

Photo Credits: “Sunset Over Mexico” by Bettina Schwehn / uniqraphy , Illusion Photo by Mateusz Stachowski

Lost in the Fun House of Illusion

Lost in the Fun House of Illusion

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When Will It Happen?


I am a guitar string waiting to be plucked.

I am a boat sailing on a misty lake at night,
back and forth.
I am a pad of paper waiting for
a pen to write on me.

I am a candle waiting to burst into flame.

When will it happen?

When will I see the clouds break?

When will the sun rain down golden drops
of life-sustaining energy upon the fields?

When will the baby shoots push their heads
above the soil?

When will the gates of heaven open?

When will the smile of God cause
every living thing to grow straight and tall?

Not before I am ready for it to happen.

 

 

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Age Old


Am I supposed to quietly fade out of existence
like a blinking star
or a guttering candle?

Is there a ghost town
waiting for me over the next hill
with rows of gravestones
rising at awkward angles
out of the dead leaves and high grass?

I wait for the next wave
which does not arrive
somewhat like a beached whale
thrown up by the sea.

Night falls.
Cool breezes replace the heat
of the cruel sun.

A stranger walks alone on the beach.
Has he come to save me?
My whale flesh feels cold and dry to his touch.

He peers into my dull blue eye.
I wonder if he can see
the young whale swimming
once again
in the sea of pure consciousness.

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Radiant Flower


Flowing through my heart
the sounds of life everlasting

Pieces of Truth
I am unaware of

Why does this always happen?
I do not know what is going on

The thief steals my joy
and I am alone
to face the stars
and the consequences of my life

Things could be so much easier
if I would only let them

Where are you
radiant flower?

I ask my heart for the answer
and none comes, then
the answers come on the breath
like waves rolling to the shore

I am alone once more
without the armor of love to protect me

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The Beloved


I see a woman shopping in a shoe department
She is long and lean, quite beautiful
and unmindful of my lustful stare
She is like so many women
I desperately want to make love to

I am a fool, of course
because what I want can never be satisfied by any woman
Even the most beautiful woman in the world
cannot quench the flame that burns within me

I often forget
what I truly want
You, my beloved

Beyond the fantasies and small desires
conjured by the deceitful magician
Mind brandishes multi-colored shrouds
in a deft attempt to lure me away
from where You reside

Your palace is more luxurious, more enchanting
than any abode the world has to offer
Beyond words
Beyond imagination
Beyond the boundaries I call myself

Sometimes I catch a glimpse of You
a flawless diamond
perfection itself
too beautiful for these outer eyes to see
more precious thana hundred Spanish treasure ships
waiting to be discovered

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