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Crusading
The waves begin -- Waters ripple,
inconspicuously Contracting the still-beating heart
and Water is created in the absence -
The Void creates
what it is meant to
--motion is allied with first breath
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LOVE
IS AN EQUAL
you are no longer separate from me the I AM (ego reference) is
no longer
[we are one with our world and when
we realize what the deep holds in store for us] |
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See the captain yonder
how he crafts his sail
The wind is blowing a frigid chill tonight
He is crusading
a chartered course
as we cross a million
saltwater tears
swimming in the deep cold night
I, running from the clock,
am riding
the mainstream
We hold an upstream conference
baring the bones --
the bare bones of logic
questioning what brought us here
in the first place
Perilous our face is
as our journeys cross paths with ghosts
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As our titanics rise up from the deep
I wonder what Day will be like
now that the forbidden stone (ship) has
passed through its long journey and returned
The one thousand sailors
(drowned infants)
lost
to the clinging of matter-ice so long ago
& in their manic-depressive dreamcall
our child suitors
call from the depths,
await their rebirth into happiness
But, Who shall heal the arrogant one?
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I love you,
now get out....
I remember.
A marksman could do no better at counting the ways to hit bullshit dead-eye
in the center
"Get out of my way, can’t you see I’m busy?"
"Why are you so dependent on me for your needs...."
"Can’t you find something else to do?!"
the breath-word ignites the flame--- |
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(you were born female-)
the hypocrisy runs a deep current between my legs----"I would never
let anyone hurt you."
(Seeking revenge for his pain he rapes his infant daughter> primal
screams ripple soundlessly throughout
oceansoul
womb)
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the tip of the iceberg
the ever-static; homeo-stasis;
Ocean of life, the origin of life-
you are holding for me a cargo
deep on the ocean floor
I'd rather not see for the telling
it is painridden, terrifying
in its buried cargo
lies waiting
true freedom
in the hull of the great titanic
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(earth shaking quakes shattering,
splintering a deathdream--
I am alone
fragmented
in a billion small pieces rolling with the ocean’s tides
I risk dying
(or else it may be that I will be truly free)
God, tell me, which way do I turn
toward the terrifying or away?
How did the water, fluid,
come to move so slowly
as before it was...
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...the dream of spirit moving
effortlessly
connected
to all beings
we will know
won’t we?
The truth,
the realization
of who we at once are?
But I am blinded by
frozen memory
a stoney-cold impasse
usurps/clouds my vision
The children lost in the dark sea
after their glorious send-off into
a holyland
where all seemed so surreal
its illusion held such grandeur
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But as it is
a great ship filled with both bounty
and dread
and now you ask me to relive
the tale
by bringing up the lost children
OUR TITANICS, LIKE THE DEEPLY SUBMERGED SHIPS THEY ARE
RISE FROM THE DEEP
MYTHIC MATTER SHADOWS
the sea floor gives way to quakes
that remind me
of Me that was
that I wish wasn’t still there
there is a virus
complex
a mechanism
that recalls ancient memory
when there is emotional turmoil
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(God help
me)
maybe I am not meant to gain
riches in god’s kingdom
maybe I am to continually be met
with cold, hardness
there is the fear
that I will not be able to be myself
without fear
of reprimand; |
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for me
this fear is the tip of the iceberg
AMBIANCE ONCE WAS
THERE IS AND NOW, OTHER
The world has gone double on me
I am * mannequin * bloodCOURAGE;
accepting is for what is- I call forth:
Lost and lonely child
come from the deep
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I tell you now
there is nothing more to fear
The great ice (berg/ age) is thawing
in My hand there is warmth
enough even to melt your coldstone heart
the memories that once were ice
will become fluid again
I will trust
in their motion your pain
it actually brings ripples of delight in its multitude
of colors
your pain is our delightful play
of color
of your pain I understand much
After the sunset and before the moon arises
the children spot the luminescence at the surface
they begin struggling in spiral strokes
to reach the surface
pulling away , struggling to arise from their dark womb
as we connect the three of us dance together
in rotating circular movements
we’re lost in a world of our own
feeling the warm glow of embrace
YOU ARE NO LONGER SEPARATE FROM ME
WHERE, THEN, DO THE RIPPLES BEGIN?
ARE THEY THE CREATION?
When can WE BEGIN, God?
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