Can we?

Can we ever fathom the idea to start over,

Begin anew as the sun rises in the East?

Can we not change the course of things

That have shaped our existence, at least?

Nothing can take away the memories 

That have shaped and nibble at our ear.

We must go forward, leaving the troubles

Of the heart behind, amidst all our fear.

To become free of the yolk and confident

That all good things will come in waiting,

That all dreams of the soul will be fulfilled

Through faith in our humble beginning.

Focus fearlessly on what joy awaits us

In the redistribution of our cosmic energy,

For, what a lovely, fresh sight it will be

To awaken, anew, seeking again questions

Of life and time spent in a forgetful society.

May 12, 2013

Free exchanges

Free, gracious exchanges
of brotherly love.

The tide flows in and outward,
Rippling in concentric pulses.
What are we but mere beings
On an Earthly trip whose purpose
is meant to be woven together
In the tapestry of spiritual bondage
Of heart, mind and soul,
Ever full of promise and peace.

Take a deep breath and breathe
New life into the abyss.

January 10, 2013

Be

When do we become
what it is that we
were meant to be?

Follow the little, white rabbit
Down the hole
And you wait and see.

Freedom from wanting,
Loving all you have,
And have chosen to be.

January 7, 2013

Instruction

Trust in solitude that answers will come,
Continue to be observant
And all of the world will be known to you,
Seek and you shall find
That all in this life are numbered,
But are blind.

There is no sense in the destruction
Of a very good companionship,
Until there comes a time
To heed the creator's instruction.

January 7, 2013

Mental Vibrations

These days give rise to the cry of my inner most spirit,
to break away and run free, but still I abide and don't do it.
What am I waiting for in this life to happen?
Seems like I would rather a move be made by chance,
awaiting the days of unexpected happenstance,
where my livelihood will change under a split second's glance.
But, I must move and shake and carry on the load,
for this life must be traveled - it is a ficticious road.
Laid out like it is, nothing will get done,
unless we pick up our own two feet and walk towards the Son.
However, still I sit and ponder the chess move I must make,
the potions that lay before me, the direction I must take.
The motivation for most days lie in the actions of others
and how we react to them as celestial lovers.
For, we are all connected, you and I.
My future depends on yours so get up the guts and try.
I know your inner most thoughts and the talents that you possess,
so why do you prefer to put them away instead of carrying them as your cross?
I'll get up and go on into the next day,
knowing all too well that you will, but not in the same way,
because that is what separates us, you and I, from fulfilling our destiny.
Together we are one, but apart are only a shadow of an epiphany.
Realizing what is inside us dying to get out
is really what living this life is all about.

01-07-13

Tomorrow

I always thought that life would be different than it is today.
All my youthful dreams of romance and rescued destinies,
carried away by an aged view of tomorrow.
Take a deep breath and blow out the dust from the covers,
leaf through the pages and find the hidden moral
- today has no comparison to fairy tales
and gallant knights riding off with relieved damsels from distress.

By this age I was sure I'd have a spouse and little ones to tend
- but fortune has not found in me this dream.
Instead, has blessed my vision and determination
to not need of any of those societal ties,
to see them from the outside in,
made stronger and more confident
in the choice of tomorrow,
where it will lead.

Though I was in love once,
and still hold all of those memories
like a picture book in my head,
look into those eyes each time
their met with mine and dream of a place together.

Yesterday has taught me to guard my emotions,
to hold those I love at a distance,
though they might earn my distrust
- not of their own making,
human error of unfaithful love,
crushing my heart beneath the unnoticed heel of their boot.

No, today is not how I envisioned my love
for another,
my love for life.

I discovered myself through that other,
my muse,
by the discord his notes brought to my days.
I found that if I could not trust one that I loved,
that he wouldn't fight for my heart,
then I shall love them all from a distance,
spreading my joy around and hope
that I leave witnesses to the natural artist of the Earth.

For, to focus on any one person,
place or thing too long,
is too long away from the creative source
of freedom.

Here I stand,
today,
still alive and enduring,
dreaming still,
still hoping in the passions of tomorrow
I have yet to know.

For, today is mostly made up
of the many seeds we sow.
They grow and blossom
into newly acquired reality
as we breathe in those moments,
learning from the past and continuing
on the road of purposeful resistance
to common, everyday speech,
profoundly marching toward our victory
with arms raised and our eyes set still
on those dreams of youth.

For, the fairy tale gum drops
and sugar plums are far more pleasing
and different still
than it is today.

01-07-13

Who Knows

Who knows what
joyous wonders
await us on the
other side of today,
what possible fortunes
of inner peace that
will befall our hands,
in only we rise and
heed the call upon
our hearts, accepting
the moments,
one by one.

01-02-13

Each

Each individual,
experiencing the world,
to each their eyes take in,
their hands hold separate sensations,
paths divergent from each one.
 We merge together to live along side each,
dismissing the qualities that make each,
expectant of sameness, oneness,
but can not ever be.
 For, with unity no diversity lies,
which makes us human contradictions of each,
pushing our individuality upon one another
with no hope of any soul to understand completely
the recollection that makes each.
A hand full shared, but a lifetime apart.
We, each, live alone.
Our thoughts,
with only small ways to relate
or express our individual torments
and joyful endings.
Each has lived and each proceed
on a path all our their own
with a vivid reality of shared experience.
We can only surmise and compare
lives lived in hopes of similarity
to find peace of mind that a portion is shared,
but not not in totality.
A new year only gives
each more separation
as if living were any different than dying,
despite the suffering of loss,
for a portion of shared moments in time.
Each goes on as best as he can
while continuation of external stimuli penetrate
and affect the senses of each.
Each soul,
never more than one,
even when shared time,
always one.

01-01-13

Loss

I don't enjoy this feeling of loss
and seemingly drowning...
among the bustling life around me.

Here I sit in the silence of my brain, broken,
no sight of healing soon.

Return my beauty and simple truth
back into the room.

I wish to sing again, in a loving refrain
and leave this Earth with no more pain.

10-23-12

One Small Speck

One small speck, one breath of soul,
one individual atom of light that flows with animation
- that is what God has breathed into us.

What are we if not caring units of love,
brought about to share the goodness of our fellow's lives
and rejoice in their gifts and they with ours?

Lift up your heads and bow no more to the shackle
of fear and dutiful hatred that surrounds and worries
the brow of every day existence.

Become one and clasp hands as each new step is taken
that sheds newly desired dreams and instead builds realities.

One small moment, one minute of pleasure,
one recognizable artifact that we lived at all
and enjoyed the time we've spent on this revolving burg of dust.

05-25-12

Curiosity

I am only a single speck, a refractionary glimmer,
that can only be seen in the right light.
I dance across the surface of hope, like the sun across the water.
I can not be caught like the fish, bottled for distribution,
though it would do man kind good to taste of this elixer.

For what do I owe this pleasure, on wings unseen,
to dance across the breezes navigationally set toward some unknown destiny,
though completely set ahead?

The clocks hands, made by man, do not foretell of the course,
but underneath and in between the surface of confident glass,
refracting your own happiness unto you.

Curiosity can not be cured, no one knows from hence it comes,
but the soul's wandering interest can not be found in one.

05-28-12