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Showing posts from April, 2007

My Timeless Eye

Feeling more than I have ever before,
I know that this must be The Love
Its light shines bright into the core of this soul
And now I am made to see clearer
As it melts the crystals of my coldest winter
I leave my doors wide open
I’ve invited him in
He is the Sun
The center of a heart undone

He’s a Timeless eye
An inviting smile
And he’s taken residence of my mind
He’s that silent witness
The cure to madness
An unmatched brightness
That soothed my hidden sadness
Bowing to none
He is a child of the Sun

Strange how such beautiful scenes
Can scorch the breath that can’t be seen
You grow accustomed to the burns
Knowing He is the remedy for which your heart yearns
And while we remain locked in this gaze
Making our way through this timeless maze
Our words will not keep your eyes for long
So we leave you listening to his silent love song

Brightly lit over the skyline
Centered in his way
The unseen power of this Great One Lover
Is the light of my day
And though I tried to keep him at bay
He is…

a mental reality

My peculiarity is the immateriality of my externality.
Where blindness and knowledge meet, as I’ve bought into my own deceit.
I’m superficially inclined to be in service of a blind mind casting aside the truth that abides deep inside.
I’ve become ignorance’s fool and materiality’s dumb mule, with my head up my behind I robotically wind to the grind of time.
Time ticks and tocks while I follow the flocks of blindness into the abyss of my inevitable undoing.
What I see in this illusive surreal wheel has that tempting appeal, but it is not real.
It is not real.
The mentality of reality is in actuality an illusion, and this causes the mind some serious confusion.
The freedom from this conundrum begins with the inquiry…Who Am I?

I am the disappearance of “other.”

Cosmic Dancer

When I breath in the stillness of that true life and take a moments pause, what comes into view is the rise and fall of the most delicate and subtle silhouettes. These formless forms of mist rise up to dance in freedom and then dissolve into the nothingness from which they came. I see them as they interlace with the ruffled seams of my own threading.
This is my doing and my own undoing. The magic and the madness of these dancing silhouettes devours my being hurdling me into a spiraling collapse that in an instant becomes a soaring flight into the emptiness from which I descended. I have fallen.
And Now I have risen. I call this my life. I call it my story. A fictitious tale of silhouettes going nowhere.
I am soaring above the aggravations of the subtle deceptions. From this restful place all there is, is this wild dance of forms I’ve called stories orchestrated by an invisible and extraordinary story teller. I’m that story teller and the one living out the story. It’s incre…

She and I

Empty promises made in between the dreams of this wakeful dreaming.
And I’m paying her dues.
She sleeps through the tears.
While I weep for her fears.
As she asks, “where have all the promises gone to?”
I cannot answer her.
I submit and let the agony of her longings trickle out of these eyes.
Who promised her the sky?
She speaks stillness, but I do not understand.
What isn’t she telling me?
I submit and feel the pangs of her aching heart until the rising temperature of this body subsides.
I’m tired.
Let me sleep dear soul.
I toss and turn.
She won’t let me.
“Something big has already begun” she echoes into my ears.
Oh foolish heart.
Will she come to realize it is already over?