Tonight we sleep under velvet skies As we count the days since the caravans have departed in winter’s wake I find the beloved in a hundred murid images The clues hiding deep in these crossed roads of a poet’s second-hand notebook.
For those of us left behind to finish with this wayward stroll The milkiest way is full of light from Andromida’s way star bright With nights of Blue Moon, Cowboy Junkies, and Sweet Jane Least we forget the rain, the sky and the Hawk from on high.
Steel on steel will make the rails sing But tonight my song is for the river the Lakota call Wakan Tanka Take me into your murky debts amongst the sunken cypress logs And renew me in the pure water of southern rain.
With great respect and warmth, we bid the day adieu’ May our dreams ever fall true for another nights review And with my eyes ever-smiling across the waters wide It’s good to ride the river with you tonight.
It seems like ages since I lived this one particular life and year after year it grew a little fainter leveling parts of my soul in total darkness. But always with lessons in tow, This should have been a day of joy and happiness… a celebration; but I chose not to attend and thus ruined the party for all concerned. Well, maybe not all concerned as some were glad the party didn’t take place at all and for them that was the real party.
But what do I feel and doesn’t it count for anything? That little intuition inside me kept saying, “no way, you can’t go through with this” even though I fought it tooth and nail out of fear that I was destroying a life. Better to ruin my life than another. Isn’t that the chivalrous thing to do?
What nonsense, cried our Pilgrim. Be true to thyself and that will bring you to a higher truth. Hide behind erroneous thinking and that will leave us as a naysayer of depressed energy longing for a life it thought it knew.
Yes, whispered the heart, fingers crossed, bowing slightly to the head. Likewise exclaimed the head winking back to the heart.
As the high heat of August crawls not so inconspicuously by, we see the waywardness that is September inching ever so slowly towards an unknown destination. Month by month, day by day we are the ritual that inevitably brings us to October… the season of change and renewal. Continue reading “Old October”
It’s said that the Angels on high are joyously whenever someone turns their back on the everyday life. That‘s the journey, as Van Morrison sang, “From the dark end of the street to the bright side of the road”. The signs along this path are the inkling of a universe wanting to speak to us. Every turn is a lesson, the winking of an eye, which is contemplated only by those who stay young at heart.Continue reading “Natures Truth”
There are moments in time when we try to reassemble life’s rich pageant; assigning the pieces as neatly and securely as we can into a box of our own subjective thinking; a box that hasn’t any room for fresh interpretation. The analysis is so in sync with the cerebral brain that we fail to sit back and enjoy the epiphanies that are present especially when the pieces of this puzzle seem not to fit as we think they should…if our narrative comes together, we call it a miracle, if not we’re disgruntled. We tend not to appreciate that in the perforations of this chaos there are considerations waiting for our attention. It is only when we trip into overload from this temporal way of thinking, thus spilling forth into the mysteries, do we expand our thoughts into the universe of a higher understanding. It is then, I come to realize that what I don’t know is more than I thought I knew and I’ll never know it all. Thus, I stand blessed and open to all there is on the road of perception raining down in the pale moonlight. This is mindfulness at its best, waiting to hand you something you didn’t have an inkling you were in need of.
Find something, anything, which is so encompassing that in a given block of time it enthralls you to get lost together in unconsciousness. Such things are beyond space and time, it is bliss and one only questions the indignities of why when not doing this transcendent work.Continue reading “Bliss”