Of what purpose
A new day…?
What is its lesson?
Must I let go
Of the battles
I heroically began?
Or
Must I stretch them
For credibility?
In what lies the goodness
That I’m trying to learn
From life?
I intuit that the presence
Of a new day
Holds answers
To my questions
That my ignorance
Of who I am, what should I do
And how should I be
Can be transformed
To enlightenment
If silent totality, omnipresence and eternity
Are the answers
What must my question be?
Walk with me
At dawn and dusk
So that I may
Have your company
While experiencing
The enchantments of existence-
The sights, the sounds, the smells…the streets.
That company is the best
That allows for
A private enjoyment
Of air and hour
Great company restores you
Time is once again yours
To simply be.
Why is it that
my thoughts don’t
converse with my silence…
They assume it’s a void
that must be filled
with ideas that
seem intelligent.
But silence is a completeness
that deserves the respect
one would accord
to the highest intelligence
Silence must be observed…
It must be met
on its own terms.
The moments that exist
Between those islands of forgetfulness
When you live like you are somebody
With something to do-
Is the ocean of eternity that surrounds you.
You are part of its immensity
But prefer to be more relatable
As a name…an entity…a person
Who will surrender readily to a little love
And the promise of an elusive bliss.
Our pretensions of personality,
Our cultivation of purpose
And the poetic expressions of our angst-
Keep us forever entangled
In the question of, ‘who we essentially are…’
Perhaps that question is pointless
When addressed to an existence that just is
A oneness with no exception.
Your poetry is a monologue…
Who you’re not is speaking with who you are.
Life, that is ever free
Becomes imprisoned within
The walls of the human mind.
Ego, attachment, desire and fear
Do not allow it to move freely…
To come and go-
Without being subject to
Ownership, design, desire…
And moral confusion.
We trap life.
We want it to serve
Our limited sense of self.
But life that is creative and ever new
Will have nothing to do with our staleness.
Itself, free of the past
And open to the future;
Without memory and desire,
It uses time and the illusion of persistence
To create the conditions
By which we come to desire
Our own end.
Can we learn
To meet life with pure presence?
Can we come to see
That the treadmill of the mind
Is not life?
That it has no name,
No designation, no agenda
No attachments, no conditions
That your wish
May be its command,
But not its true calling.
Do not be intimidated by a blow.
Do not be crippled by doubt.
Do not lose your faith
In the face of obstacles.
Do not hand over
Your courage to fear.
Do not break up with truth
To accommodate a lie.
Do not let opinions
Douse your spark.
Forgoing your essence
Is not a virtue;
It’s a weakness.
Immorality proceeds
From our forgetting
That we are protected by a reality
That stands over and above appearances;
And that stands outside the bounds of
Perception, emotion and intelligence.
Stay intact. Stay whole. Stay undisturbed.
That which I need most
Is unavailable to me
Not because of someone else’s
Carelessness or lack of love
But ironically,
Because of my own.
Happiness
Wealth and
Power
Are innate
They cannot be acquired from the world.
They are hidden in three capacities
Within you:
Dedication
Sacrifice and
Service.
via Unshackled
How much
Should I break loose
To reclaim my heart
So that I may feel
The emotions trapped
Behind your polite words
And your cultured gestures;
That have mastered
The art of concealment.
Our words no longer convey
The truth of our feelings;
Our faces no longer express
The naivety of our excitements;
Our humanness is disguised
By the fashion of sophisticated ideas,
That awe us into believing
Their claims of truth.
Their artistry may have garnered me an image;
But I have lost the sensation of touch
You and I stand unreal to ourselves.
How can I free myself;
So that I can then free you?
Wit. Wisdom. Wonder... 