When  we  reach  the holy  mountain , beyond the crystal sea,
Then we'll sing the songs of Zion , of highest themes they be,
There we see the Holy Father , unseen by other men,
The unsearchable  riches in Zion are within our ken.

I long to be ready to meet Him when He comes,
I long for the rapture to meet Him in the air,
Oh, I want to see the glory and hear Him say "Well done",
For I long to be ready to meet Him , When He appears.

I have been a therapist, and
I've been therapied
The brightest and the best
Have had a go at me

It hurt like hell, I tried to hide,
I wouldn't run away
The truth would out, for all to see,
All to see, but me

I learned to face my fear,
Be more honest, and more brave
I played a silly game
You see there was no face to save

We're mistaken and mislead
Down the twisted garden path
With the weather and the leather
To the bitter Grapes of Wrath

From the poisoned pedagogy
We recover one fine day
Our long suffering Tsunami  
Will finish like a play


Sean Hunt
(Sierra de Gredos mountains,  Spain...2015?)

This month of December is of special significance, since it
brings the present year to a close, and ushers in the coming New
Year, which the spirit of Christmas enfolds! This poem is dedicated
to Catherine Jarvis of Arizona, and all my Poet Friends of this Site.
May the coming New Year 2016 bring peace and prosperity, leaving
old tensions behind! -Raj, New Delhi.
  

           JOHN THE BAPTIST
               By Raj Nandy

Out of the wilderness there came a man,
With staring eyes and unkempt hair ;
A leather belt around his waist ,
And clothes made of camel's hair.
He never begged for any money,
Lived in the desert on locust and wild honey !
His voice in the wilderness spoke of the Lord ,
And preached the arrival of the Son of God !

"Repent ye sinners," John had cried, "wash
away all your sins ",
In the flowing waters of River Jordan ,
He summoned all to be baptized by him!
Then out of Galilee there came a Man ,
With gentle looks, both meek and tall;
And looked at him and softly said, -
"Baptize me John"!
John at once realized, it was the Messiah
standing before his sight!
So he asked the Lord to baptize him instead,
But the request of the Lord must be obeyed !
As John baptized Jesus there descended from
the Heavens above, -
The Holy Spirit in the shape of a Dove ,
And alighted on the Lord's head !
Then a voice was heard from the Heavens, -
"This is my beloved son in whom I am well
pleased'', - the voice echoed and said!

Now friends whenever we seek His blessings,
and in His name drink our toast,
Remember that we are thrice blessed always,
By the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost !
                                                 -Raj Nandy

I'm a flower in your hair
I'm the fragrance in the air
You're the laughter in despair
Hope in moments I can't bear
Fingers trace your every curve
You're the smile I can't but love
Stained and tainted, still a dove
Blessed, descended from above
You're the key to me it's true
I'm dead and breathing without you
Doesn't matter what you do
I'm hopelessly entwined with you

Do I believe there is love?
Of course
Yet it is hard to say that I have experienced such a thing
And in that it is just as hard to try and justify to anyone that there is, in fact, love

I do not know what is sadder: That I have not experienced love or the way I am responsive to it

I know who I am supposed to love
But it is no love that I can tell

But this is the truth:
I know of hate
Hatred I believe in
Hatred I am all too familiar with

I suppose I could be so enveloped in my own self-hatred
Comparing all other things to me that I love almost anything and anyone

So from my conclusions I extract this:
Because I participate in the deepest and most strewn out of hate
I know that it exists
Therefore, love, comparative to my involvement in hate, can only lead me to an assumption:

If hatred exists, then so must love