five_poems_sept_2015.pdf |
A new expression of my previous work, "Collection of Thoughts."
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I have spent many years here,
at the foot of the mountain, so engrossed in the fungi and flowers, that I never motioned to climb to the summit before me, for fear of losing those simple joys. and that I may regret departing from what is guaranteed. I was afraid I may become injured from the journey, or find that it was not all I had hoped it would be. Today, I chose to leave the mossy forest, and move into the mountain. Step by step, I walked up the mountain’s incline, toward summit. As I journeyed upward, I was able to see more of where I came from. Here, there was also more land to climb that had been climbed, and I was afraid I might die a death, only halfway through my climb, without any of the comforts that I knew in the grassy forest, lest the button cap mushroom and red flowers I kept in my backpack for sentiment. * * * I began to sweat and smell And before I realized it, I made it halfway up, ...but was growing tired. * * * I rested for a bit, and listened. I was told... by God, perhaps, that I would not make it all the way to the summit if I carried all my belongings and keepsakes with me. * * * It had been two days, and I was not making the progress I had wished I would have made. I wondered, what went wrong? and asked God and the universe at large, for help. * * * I continued onward and upward, Despite the tiring pain I felt in the soles of my feet. I was moving through space in apathy and a foreboding decrease in momentum came. * * * That following night, I came upon a rock and rested. This rock jetted out from the mountainside and looked over the forest from whence I came. From this point, I could see more forest than I thought had ever existed; I could see the town in which I grew up from, here, lit by lanterns appearing to be fireflies in the distant night. I sat here and wanted to weep. If I were to decide the same way I had decided things in the past, I would have wept. But I heard a voice again and I suddenly comprehended something in a capacity I hadn’t before. I slept. In the morning, I left all my remaining belongings, including the two flowers and my clothes, at that rock which overlooked the forest. And now, nearly naked, lest my shoes, I began to walk, jog, then run up the mountainside with an energy I had not known before, moving through and within me. It was the kind of electrical surge you get from dreams of flight. Giving up all of the pain of the past, I move(d) forward, And made it to being only foot steps before the summit. * * * It is clear here, There is a terrible silence... Joy pervades the air, And All breathe fully and happily with a sense of awe and breathlessness... which feels good… whole… and light. All is abiding here. All, here, is abiding. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ Due to the need for sustainable food, shelter, clothing, and the security of water, I worked my way down the newly discovered side of the mountain, that which was opposite the way I came. ...I saw a village past the forest surrounding the mountain, and decided I would go there. When I came down the mountain, I saw deer and antelope playing, smelling the wet grasses. And I could hear the laughter of tree leaves about the air; I could feel my sweat's sweet touch on my vibrant skin, and All was abiding. * * * Just beyond the forest was a new village, As I entered it I was greeted by familiar faces. Now, their faces glowed and I couldn't help but actively look into their eyes when we spoke. And when we spoke, we no longer talked of discontent or bitterness. We spoke in blessings and gratitude. And when we did speak of unpleasantries, it was understood that our complaints were not means of escape; there was no longer a reason to Hide from the beauty of the mountain tops, The presence of famine, The joy and vulnerability of dancing, Or the reality and order of breaking branches and burning wood. We could all know, and deeply understand, That all was abiding; The mountain summit was once a hill, and earlier, a plain. “It is abiding here. We are peace, here” spoke all. And all was well. * * * …There is something whispered amongst the creatures who live in the abiding… They do not deny that there will be days of death, sorrow, and pain. (But, they also do not believe that by living in disappointment, those moments will be lessened, or made easier.) Instead, they see today for what it is, in all its glory, and opportunity, Without the fear looming over them that tomorrow, what is now there, may not be there in the same dimension, in the same way, again. They do not live in disappointment to avoid being shaken by heartbreak, and they are present for all of life and are willing to love as much as they are, cry. … and that is the truest secret and rite of The Abiding, that is what they whisper in the rustling leaves and starry nights to one another: I love you. Tears come from the eternal springs of your soul, the same place the bVII chord comes from. A beautiful reminder of the infinite, now, and the precious I claim no credit to the video. Poetry above and below, © 2015
The dance of life is a waltz, at times. with sweeping lines and a magically forward pulling meter. And there are some moments where what is beat one, two, and three become obscured and you are seamlessly moving through time. Then when the time comes, the rhythm finds you once again, and you are dancing. As bittersweet as the B major 9th and 7th chord. May the celestial locust fly you to where you need to be, and may the wind always carry you swiftly through the night. Say hello to the spirits you find in the sky, for me, and in honor of the dream named your life. May you drink from the eternal waters, dance, with the perpetual flames, and taste the dirt of a thousand ancestors. …Say hello, when you visit that place called earth. ~With love Poem inspired by this music. I claim no rights to this music, I just wish to share it. Poetry © 2015 Release
Life is often the dancing of astral bodies, including ourselves, cocreating in communion with of dance of life. Tongues
When you speak, watch your tongue. For, in this dimension, tongues meet at the tip and can be used as whips. Yet, in other dimensions, our tongues meet at the back, and the tips dance like flames of a glowing star. What would happen if you just loved you, now. How would that change things? Now I’m not talking about doing what has won over other’s love for you in the past, and I don’t mean, do what you *think* it would look like to be loved. I mean, ask yourself… become intimate with your self. What would you do if you were the mother of your self? What could you do for him? How could you serve him? How could you love him? …what would happen right now, if you just decided to let go and love yourself. With gratitude
In an alternate universe, there are baby butterflies. Think about it... Fall into love The path to enlightenment can be one with scary time… we wouldn’t call it enlightenment if that wasn't the case. The artist is one who can both listen, and create.
I. Fall into love. II. Butterflies III. Enlightenment IV The Artist V. My hands and mouth. |
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