What would it take to fly?

angel bird

How calculatingly insidious the evil intentioned ones have crept into our homes, into our minds, and thereby caused us to disregard our emotional compasses. Have we traded love for logic, and discarded each other so unobtrusively that we have lost ourselves in the process?

It is a sad time when we value an intangible belief over the individual. You can stand before me, with all your overblown rhetoric and spout your ideals with great vigor, but you will never, ever, be able to laugh, hold, or cry with those dissipating words. That kind of lovelessness flees before me in an empty vapor.

I have no time or energy for those who hold so strongly to a belief that they have set up between us like a barrier. If you build a wall between us, you can be sure that I will simply step away. My heart bears no destructive forces for the breaking down of walls that others have built – when there are so many people who are eager and receptive to Love.

If you were brave enough, you could examine your own beliefs. And if you were strong enough, you could eliminate those that did not serve you. But a fortress does not feel secure without its walls, and what would become of you if you made yourself vulnerable to your own fears?

I wonder – might you plummet to the very bottom of your own heart and bleed out every lie you’ve ever believed, only to find yourself so light and free that you could then fly?

My Christmas Dream

It was by a creek deep in a wood
When first that lofty sound I heard
And long there I who fastly stood
Strained to hear that fading word

And all about me clothed in white
Each emerald point adorned and laced
With scarves of moss draped in delight
As though those noble firs be chaste

And tracing tracks left in the snow
The furry forest round about me drew
Encircling me there in that moons glow
All eyes on the owl as it flew

High atop some branch did it perch
A steeple of green boughs made clear
And all God’s creatures in a wooded church
Drenched by the Love that drew us near

And I was alight there on that eve
With Christmas just a morn away
Mere men and beast both plaited in a weave
As that great bird from his high stay

Cried “Who” and yet for me I knew
That each of us are but One gleam
Of earthly Light trenched in a pew
Though we Be God set in a dream

Cheerful Soul

I have a cheerful soul.
It dances in merriment
even when I’m downcast.
I can feel the happy tears
that fall and mix with mine,
and hear the laughter that
matches my cry, in sync.
It lifts me up unto itself
when I’ve forgotten myself,
and I’m cradled there in
wholeness, and restored to
the Oneness that I Am.

The Least of These

I have felt the sting of rejection
By those who do not see their sin
As they hold the good book as a measure
Counting souls like a treasure to win.

Yet we all fall short of the glory
And it’s this that they fail to see
If they saw themselves as the sinner
What judgment could they pass off to me?

You see I was the sick and the hungry
I was naked with shame and disease
I was lost in the pit of the prison
Yes, I was the least of these.

And I’ve felt the cold heart of wanting
Its love is in word and not deed
For I looked to the warmth of acceptance
But my sin had outweighed my need.

So this warning He gives me is simple
“Love the least of these,
If you fail to do it for them,
Then you’ve fail to do it for Me.”

Himself

I have seen a thousand million men
Standing face to face for miles upon miles
Erect like dominoes (unaware of the eminent fall)
All projecting into the other – their thoughts
Passing down in procession from one to the next
Each made accountable as they grow and distort in stature
A thousand million men – all created by the thoughts of others
And none remembering themselves – Save One
He stands off to the side, facing outward and away
Looking upon the deep nothingness of his clear mind
He does not notice the stones that come hurling – often
With heavy intent and burdensome nonsensical “truths”
They vanish into his void becoming as he Is – Empty
And it is only from within this space that he can truly Create
Something Beautiful….. Himself!

Serenity

Everything ever created had risen
to the surface of my mind and churned
there in a hot rumbling noiseless rage.
And I couldn’t un-hear it! Blaring
incessantly it choked my sanity,
turning the thin layer of peace
that clung to the surface into a boiling
chum, and all those bottom dwellers
feasted upon it as though it be life itself.
All that I had gathered and harbored
and kept in the deep had come to
reap the harvest of my vision and
it would only be in this destruction
that understanding would find me
well aware of what it was I had done.
And it was for a long time that I suffered
with those creations. But my vision became
clear as I looked back at the reckoning and
knew it was my own. Only then would I come to
understand the power of my Being and the
wisdom of my vision. All those manifestations
played themselves out and then slowly
dissipated leaving me back in a purer state of
Serenity.

i stop time in the Now so i may travel from a place of Knowing.

time is a construct by which we measure change
it can be greatly effected by hyper focusing desire
the tricky part is that in order to understand desire
you must experience change, therefore time
the constructs of time can be thinned to a sheer veil
through the intensity by which you focus on the Now
yet many are bypassing the Now for the visions of the
past or future. but once you become hypervigilant
to the present, you gain the power to see through the
veil and the possibilities within every given moment are
revealed to you in such a way that desire begins
to flow causing you to track with time the movements
of your life in a more conscious and deliberate way

i bend all the rules in the Now, and i jump all the tracks created by others that do not serve Me. this is a powerful way to Be.

Beauty in Death – it’s the frost that reddens the vine

the rain on the windowpane distorts the view
those fall hues melt and drip together
while the storm rolls across the glass
outside Nature creates beauty from the dying
how can one so bright and fierce be struck in Spirits wake
to grow and bloom and vibrate with the energy of Life
yet then rescind back into dormancy as if dead
we can Be like leaves that spin and toil the day away in
happy respite then fade and turn, and drop once more from sleep

Path of Confusion

Walking lonely down the path
Winding through the willows; weeping
Weeping willows bending reaching
Yearning for some unsung wrath

Singing, weeping, willows breaching
Longing, aching, bending, breaking
Always wishing, never waking
Heart unfolding, life beseeching

Walking lonely down the path
Swaying like the willows; weeping
Dancing while the heart is seeping
Red leaves racing home at last