Heavenward ever goes the smoke
Even as our prayers.  Heaven must
Be a smokey place.  Even as earth
Knows its fogs and clouds.  It is
Only by their difference we know
The other.  Who has never known
That incomparable imperium if
Only by its loss would not know
To send a plea to God for its
Restoration.  Thru a veil of tears
Lord it seems that here I can
See your face.  In the vale thru
Sunlit mists here Love seems
To show us paradise, seems
To make us know that this is
The Beloved Promised Place.

Does it cost too much?
Think about it: If there
Is no evil there are no villains;
No hateful despots; no greedy
Speculaters; no starving children;
No deadly diseases-to name only
A few of the legions of evils that
Plague, torment and grieve   us.
But if these were gone what of
Our charities,of our vain glorious
Good deeds.  Vanity all is Vanity
Sayeth the preacher.  We pray to
The Father to make it on earth as
Is in heaven but is it reasonable
For men to think that it be so-that
The only truth be manifestly so?
No it is not reasonable. And is not
Our reason our greatest treasure
Perhaps equal to heaven itself for
It promises to guide us to all we
Hope for-.Yet the key must be
Given up to the door and we
Parted from it if the gates of
Heaven are to be swung open
For we are like little children
Who know not what they do
For of such is the Kingdom.

In these hallowed halls silence echoes
Saying  am that which is not that else
May be heard.  Time is the child of the
Timeless; the void is the womb of form.
I am different from the others the hallower
Of  souls; and the faithful companion of
All who are alone and craving not to be.

You cannot hold life,
Only a little then
It starts to squirm.  After
All love is free.  Time goes
by and nothing happens
This is peace.  We barely
Notice. ( till its gone) the
Flowers growing wild
On the way home.

There are many virtues but each is limited
Love excepted.  Look at freedom Perfect it
Cannot be for if it was it would be able to
Trample all in its fullest allowing-so with all
Other virtue  it is not perfect or can it be made
Perfect-Only Love is perfect and only by it can
We Be perfectly guided to know that which we
Must Know for the proper governance of our lives.

Even a mean dog suffers when beaten;
And as our fathers have said do not
Doubt child that this chastening hurts
Me.  I am pained with you yet I do it
Because you are worth it and to lose
You would be a much greater suffering
For each of us.   I say to you my friends
Take no joy in punishing your fellows
But that our valued brothers be restored
To us.  Justice without Love is a demon
Let loose.  And what of the victims of the
Mad dog.  Consider this:  If one repent of
Evil that evil wil be undone.  The Truth of
Love shall span all horizons as far as the
Eye can see and on  into the infinite.
Past; Present and Future are all restored.
Neither Truth nor Love shall be diminished;
The power of Love shall know no limit but
Passes beyond our full  understanding....
It is enough to be a child in the Kingdom
Of God why would would you seek  more?

What goes East and West
North and South ar the
Same time?   The Cross.


For my Friend Ed Ross
The Dream Librarian
"There must be another place"

Having loved thru the darkest night
Loved the night and even then knew
The Star of a love that over came to
Believe and know you would return
I loved you all in all.  Whole  you are
All your parts I adore the more not to
Reject anyone Love abides and is One.

The Unchanging said I am that I am
In that  That He is not redundant,not
Repeating yet unceasing.  No matter
That He is enduring.  As Emily D said:
I am nobody; Are you nobody 2 0 and
1 in a sense there is no other I am but
The One that can declare He is nobody
I am that I am and I am and there is
Naught beside me and that I am also.
I am the sole sun of all that is and that is
Not. I shine in the darkness and the dark
Comprehends me not. Love is all there is

A little child's house
Made of windows that
Look out ont upon the
Wondrous garden. So
Small but with a Vision
To everywhere that the
Heart of' life holds dear



With a tip of the Hat
To R.L Stevenson and
His "Child's Garden of
Verses" ; and L M Wolcott
(as I begin reading}" Flower
Fables"

Call it God; Call it Love
Our heart has arrows
Our soul takes aim
We are ready.  We know
What is right but woe
Is me it is not to be.  
The world gets in the
Way and our libido
Cannot be denied. The
Arrows go forth but
Miss their intended
Mark go not where we
Would have willed them
Our best desires are
Compromised.  It is
Not fair.  Our perfect
Love, our perfect life
Was it not meant to
Be?  What we have
At best is some kind
Of compromise that
Is by comparison with
The ideal clearly an
Ungodly mistake.
This gap between the
Ideal and the actual is
The noblest desire
Debased -is sin, an
Unwilled event that
Took the place of
What one could not
Have.  We do what we
Would not as Paul
Has said.  All knowl
Their True self but
All fall short.  Our
Disappointment with
Each other is mutual
Our love is imperfect
Beauty and truth that
We desired we could
Not have  though we
Burned for them.God
With held His best gifts
So we made do with
The baser metal and
Indulged in all manner
Of corruption. Such is
Our disappointment that
We must all be forgiven
Ought also to forgive all
But this is the  wisdom of
Love and comes at the end
Only after much time do
Know that we can love
One another even as
Imperfect as we are As
God loves his children
Because they all would
Be good if they could.

Believe me
I have known
Life
I have known grief
I have been joyful
I have been at peace
Amidst tribulations
I have shed tears by
The bucketful and
God let me go on
Without any answer
to my sadness.
What are words about
Love?  Are they ever,
Can they ever be more
Than symbols uf things
More real?  More treasured?
Oh Poets be not proud.
A child's laughter is more
Profound.  But that too is
But a symbol of something
Inward, of the Spirit.
I realize now that God is
Polite.  He does not ever
Interrupt our petitions
Our woeful prayers but
Waits until their end
Before He answers
Then is wait   upon our
Notice  He has Answered
.  Let us  now Sing
His Praises for He Is
Good as those who know
Believe. Know  Believe    
Hallelujah  hallelujah
Amen  


For Aretha

Years ago I was a graduate student at
Teachers College Columbia in NYC.
One afternoon in gray weather I was
Walking at the corner of  Morningside
Heights on the upper Westside near TC
And came across a bunch of boxes with
Trash put out for removal.  I stopped to
See what was in it.  I discovered several
Framed diplomas of old graduate degrees
My guess was that the owner was probably
An old resident maybe a retired faculty
Member who had passed away.  All the
Time, effort and distinction represented
What did it all amount to; to the people who
Cleaned out the old man's apartment?
For a moment I understood the truth of life
As Soloman said: All is vanity;  but poignant
Still to us who must live it believing in it.

To know what love"s worth
Letl ove it go and though
It ibe but a  moment it will
Seem you travel thru time
Go from youth to old age
In slow time thru a land
Of grief and tears seeing
What love is not while in
Sharp relief knowing what
Love is.  Love is Forever
This moment shall pass in
The twinkling of an eye
What then shall be? All that
We thought was lost forever
God will restore to us again

Is also the route of conscious-The sense of
Our special specific individuality is  the same.
All have it. i t is our common inheritance.
There is only I and and the  not I.  All the
Living are the great I Am.  We are born on
The path that leads from the self to the Self.
The I am does not die but who die in it are
Reborn in it.  There is only one consciousness
One individual; One Self.  True Love has no fear
For it knows the truth  that the Truth does not die.
We are part and one of the great whole that is life.
Oh Lord make my words sweeter to hear as water
To the thirsty that your power be known and your
Glory be magnified that our voyage be more joyful

I was in the stately pleasure dome
To be there.  To be there now-The
Timeless present so eternal so divine
Full of peace I saw the blood red river
Run,  I asked not i'ts meaning to know
But only to appreciate the unfolding
Vision.  Then I woke to  hear my child
Crying bleeding slain by some intruder
That    i could have stopped had  not I
Been enthralled by the guru smoke who
Said: Be there Be there now I am  there
There Is no other there is only  now....
This did not really happen but I knew it
Could.  This is the fear I can not shake
That buried deep in this most peaceful dream
Is hidden Envy the evil stranger who come to
**** all I love So I must wake for love's sake
Before  it is too  late and from this bad
Dream there is no escape like now seems
To sleep perchance to dream but aye there's
The rub and much there is I would't were not
But a dream love would call me from again
This dream I am having that my love love's
Me not So long its been it could be truth
That the stranger really came and took my
Love away from me because it was too late.


" of magic doors there is this that you do not
see them even as you are passing  through..."
                                                        Unknown

2/19

Born a dying the sights and
Sounds of our youth. They
Seem but the tell tale tats
Of another former age.  Yet
they are like the night of the
Falling stars or when the dark
Sound went phosphorescent
With every movement of its
Waters are ever remembered.
Penny candy dreams of old
Yesterdays, old even then like
The Memorial Day Parades
The rifle shots of the village
Green.  Left over they seem
When first seen never new
Almost gone, the very few.

God said to thepersnickiity judge
I will make a man out of you yet.
How so said the Judge do you
Know the Sovereign?  God
Said: There is only you and me
Here.  What shall we wager, a
Life for a life.  Sounds Fair.  But
The judge said who will say it is
Me  if there is only one left. God
Said One will be gone one will
Be left  Let all men judge for
Themselves who is he. I can
Only say He is my Father.
Who looks not upon my sin

Flowers are his  poetry given as
His word-the promise that love
Is never dead but ever returns to
Us again; even as in sorrow we
Mourn and lay the flowers-our
Flowers down we know what is
Gone will  return again.  What
Comes from heaven speaks of
Love that though we grieve in
Knowing of our  little time it
Magnifies  our love of this time
That this beauty is not in vain
We know because we hear his
Words of promise in the flowers.

Am I?; a lone question asked: am I still? a continuous tone till nothings heard-Silent is the question silence is the answer;  who nothing  knows nothing tells.

At the end of the road from
Where I look: it is not great
Writing just where I've been
That makes all the difference
I have been looking for you-
I want us to go on together in-
To the sunset; into the morning
Just us together again.  It is you
That i am looking for in the time
Before and in the time after-
You have to have a dream to ...
I know you know that is true.



For Barbara

To live is first to know
Not to be known
What is it to be read
Even famous long ago
After you are gone-It
Is not Immortality.

Rather let us endeavor
To know and ever to know
Call it self love but who
Can love another who is
Not alive-If we have any
Community the We begins
With I.  Be fierce to live. It
Is your country even if alone
Then if you sleep you will
Rise from every dream even
Death- as Christ did Knowing
He was still in His Fatherland

Back when I was young and The Village
Was new there was an old and broken apple
Tree just over a little hill  
Less than a hundred yards or so from my
Backdoor.  It was small, a crab apple I think
But I do not ever seeing any apples.  It was squat
Almost split down the middle of its short trunk.
Probably struck by lightening.
Still in the Spring every year it produced the most
Beautiful white blossoms.  No one seemed to notice
Its been more than 70 years since we moved in there and
Almost as many since I left.  I understand that the Village
Goes on but it seems impossible that the old apple tree
Still lives but in my memory it will always be part of me.
After my time there my life changed 'n when I I came back
I was married.  Now I too am broken but still I try to live
Putting out little blossoms from time to time and though
There are few I know who take notice some will think
Back on their youth and  will remember I was part of it

For my sister Sue; and for all my and her old friends,
some remembered some gone but still remembered from
The Village.

When the Truth is for sale
It is very chere and well guarded
So what choice does the honest man
Have but to steal it back.  Therefore
It is well said that none is righteous

There is much that you see that you
Do not yet know that you Love  All
that is old and familiar and is rundown
Now parting.  That old man with the
Cane soon you will not see him any
More.  The cobbled streets the broken
Down shanties, the old tresste over the
River.  Shame shame how much you
Disliked and looked  down on it all:
The streets of your home town now only
Memory -the abandoned houses on the great
Estates that you snuck into they had treasures
Of another time always  now-then if you  See
The passing glory of it all is that it is not lasting
As the little prince said you only truly see when
See with the heart with your heart breaking.


To the  old man in the shabby   store who
who sold me penny on the way home from
school.

That seems obvious enough
But drink deep from the well-
The water sweet and clear tells
Of The goodness of the source
Divine is forgiveness without
Knowing the crime it speaks to
The world  its Innocence. Who
Drinks and knows should drink
Again for the evil is not revealed
It is may be healthy to admit a
Possibility of sin that requires us
To Thirst but not a necessity only
An option-Could be  just a love of the
Living waters from the eternal springs
That bids us drink to drink deep  Can
It be so wrong to be skeptical of evil
Let the good and the truth be one that
The Lord may
Keep His promises
To us
      ------------------------------
Has hating evil never forgetting-
ever made us kinder?
Better there be lies than  lies be true.
(not to say i  am  always wise enough
To know the difference} " Where was I"
He asks me" When  I made the Leviathan?"
That I knew not I said was why I spoke as I did.
s

A whiff of of something desired
That cannot be cannot be  mine
Of desired realized in some other
Clime that       i can only observe
As one apart looking upon a fae-
Land.  It is so quaint and beloved
Of my heart-I say oh why o not me
I would be one with you children so
Wild and free-so beautiful to me-yet
I cannot and still be me.  So  as I must
I travel on but I  will not forget thee.



For the chilrdren  en of Cornwall Bridge who
Danced in the sunny fields for me in the early

Morning of my departure..Are they no more
Yet there is a bridge between then and now.

I was one who loved you
However imperfectly and
Was always hoping for you
To love me back like when
You were little.  Hear me:
Harden not your heart-the
Time we have left is short
Comes quickly the end.  Lord
Let something of us be saved
Coming a new heaven and a
New earth with no remembrance
Of things past yet let our love
Not be lost but begin again
Say not in this have we failed

What ever you want
You will want more
Or want less unless
Peace speaks enough
Peace next to the last?

Now I like all rain but one the best
When upon a fair day the sun's face
Is hid behind a paltry veil and for a
Moment lets it be known she also
Weeps for the beauty of all that is
Lets fall for a moment with her  veil
Her tears so little just enough to let it
Be known that what she feels is  real
As a child feels no harm is  meant
But with the passing of this time are
Both joy and sorrow co mingled.  It
Is her childhood passing before your
Eyes.  God's grace you were given
Notice, The small rain down can rain
....God"s promises kept with a memory
Wrapped in a bow.   this love will be now
and Forever the times we were together


"Westenr Wynde" 16th century poem

Western Wynde
When wilt thou blow
The small raine down. can raine
Cryste that my love were in my arms
And I in my bed again

Anonymous

A c

I am not a leader and not a follower
All are like me none before or after
We all ypay our parts .I hear us in the
Afternoon of the day and on into the
Evening it is a most beautiful memory
We are not poor fools heard  but once
But we are children treasured forever
Always changing parts in that place
Where there is no real guru, swami to
Tell us how to be but all are at play in
The fields of the Lord; and when we
Weary of play we sleep in the Pastures
Of  heaven to wake again not knowing
Where we've been and who we really
Are.  But we are friends who love one
Another though there are no words nor
Is it part in our play but it all that matters
To  the o the One that knows our hearts
For God has said we are His children.

Thoughts so wonderful that from one
To he next they cannot be remembered
No nary a word of what I heard.  Twas
An elegy to an old ball player like the
Babe recited by a boy; made him to be
What we all want to be Our truth But I
Cannot remember a word I tell you the
Truth is a dream too wonderful that goes
On and on The long sought dream with
No  end but ever begins again the Truth
To renew   Ah I am old, what answers are
There but to dream better dreams Take it
All leave nothing behind.  Take to the air
Soar in the heavens on the wings of love
Where you are waiting and I am coming

And yes like Peter leaping off the boat I
Walk on the rough water when the Master
Calls- only to sink into the roiling depths
Crying out to my Friend "Save me !" Oh
Ye of little faith" He says. But it is enough.
I shall give Him thanks for my daily bread
Remembering all the good he has given me

Once there was a war
No one won a nightmare
From which I am still
Waking up and when I do
It will be forgotten but still
I seek to sleep perchance to
Dream a better dream.


Xmas Morning 1919

To be the other whom i seek
I say not until i cannot hear
Myself; nor any others.
Then from not all will be
(or not)  Let not.  Let be
Be still...

Days
When you cannot find a friend
half is= make do as one but  it is
Not the same nor am I.  It is not
That you have tested the  tensile
Strength and now know the breaking
Point but that once our hearts danced
In the sun and  considered it not.
I remember the day I asked my father
How it was he had so many friends?  
Said it was not so that in life one has
Only a few.





Much  water has passed under the
Bridge since that day.
Unsaid was  that I like him would
Know and honor times long gone
I  gave more to the few I knew then
Than the many who came after. Still
Under the bridge the waters flows.  A
Reminder that there is an equality to
Now and then but also a difference too  
Not soon  to be forgotten but live on.
These are the days of our youth when
We had few friends and knew no better


For Ray





s

e

Quite a long time ago I was invited to a picnic on the
Deleware River.  I do not remember the circumstances
I was a guest of another family--and it was an unusual
Excursion for me at some distance from my  place and
I was the guest of people not well known to me.  The
Site was a rural park on the river, a river flowing well
through woods with some sandy shoreline. There were
Few amenities but there was a canoe rental and I rented
One and proceeded down river.  After going perhaps a
Quarter mile I came upon a man who seemed to be adrift
I waved to him but he did not wave back and I paddled on
a ways but something struck me as odd and I turned my
Head and yelled back-"Are you all right?"  He said:" I am
Drowning"  I quickly went back and allowed him to grab
On and I took him to shore-a very short distance.  I do not
Remember if we exchanged any words and I never told a
Person about my strange experience.  Now all these years
Later the question I asked myself back then :why did not he
Cry out for help when I first passed him and not declare his
Need until I by some vague premonition called back to him.
By such a slender thread does life hang that a man might let
Go by- his salvation in the balcance and wait upon God or
Whim of fate to intervene  the balanced scales weighing-
Whether it is better to live or to die .  To be or not to be?
I do not now know the answer but see more clearly  the ?

The accuser gets snuffed out in death
For he had no roots in life is not one in
Our birth but appears unbidden from
Nothingness rejected and then abhorred.
How canst thou repent of  thy innocence
Tell me is it for vain glory we seek to know
When unknowing is the counterpoint of all
The sheltering caress that cradles our youth
To which we  must return to renew our life

Well all have fallen short  of the glory
Of God as it says in scripture  But is that
To be man's  epitaph to define us as we are?

Sin is to be false to God and ourselves
So it stands to reason that we really are
Not sinners but pseudo sinners acting a
Part that is not who we really are.. We are
Rather the children of God who forgot
That we are playing a part Poor fools who
Struggle and fret...Such things children do.

I will not argue which comes first Repentance
Or Redemption except to say God does not of
His original Being repent of Love or His own.
But perhaps it is wrong to stay His hand when
It comes to the perverseness of human nature.
His children consider not -to not to know His will
That they should live and rejoice therein though
It be their true desire-So would have Him choose
For them and to make known to them His Will
That from gross deception they should be saved=
Such is the pride of play that it forgets it plays  As
Babes up past the   bed time order run rampant when
Most in need of sleep.  There is His rod He makes
Us rest- to dream and wake again: To be who we
Truly are not all knowing- But still His children
Creation begins with an act of love so let it end.

Repentance is bitter fruit just
Without charity yourself you.
Remember but would forget
Nor are free of yet -lest lost be
The lessons meant to secure and
The better part be lost but it is
that itself is  the impediment for it
Is not grace if it be earned nor
Can it be . But lesson  is buried in
the soul incorporated in the dark soil
An unconscious conscience  now is  no
Burden but sets us free to fully be
To know the joy  eternal we must
Forget the unforgivable as the chaff
Is burned  Let it be love that endures
Though it seems much too long it is
A moment till this suffering be no
More School is out.  It is early Forever
Summer now and we are  let go by god
As nature takes its course on our behalf

Though our love be uninformed
It is yet the best prayer we have
To offer when seeking gifts from
One greater than ourselves- Are
Our prayers but a child's way of
Speaking- a wish that dares to be
Sincere.  A pleading not of our
Merit but of our desire: offered
Without regard to  imperfections
Of the little petitioner who only
Knows to speak the heart's truth
That is pleasing to the beloved
Even as a baby"s babel is to the
Mother hearing one  that is loved

When I was President ...
President of my time with you, I of
The neighborhood boy's club; and
You though I did not know you so
Well then were president of the
Neighborhood girls club.  Say it's
Not so but it's true none the less
It was you who thought the same
As I did way back when we were
All so young my friends. But there
Was no club; No president.  You can
Call me a liar and you be the same
I still think it was better back then an
When there was no club or president
And we were all just boys and girls
When yet we could all be president
Though only so by our heart's  intent

There is no such thing as Fairness
To the dying; no such thing as
Justice to Love.  To know the Truth
Is to live close to the end of of the
World that others call reality.

Life is a poignant tale. Travels
Faster than the speed of light
leading fools to dusty death
I trust  S, meant that in a
Kindly way.  It is not our
Choice, poor players to be
Otherwise.  From the dark
Of earliest beginnings to
We get to Now faster than
A speeding bullet traveling
Through times tunnel but
Tomorrow is yet a ways
Off we think. It is more
Powerful than a thundering
Locomotive that goes thru
Everything to get you
To the end who knows
Where or when.  What
I mean to say is that
I was young once like
You and it all passed
In a moment in the great
Fire leaving only the ashes
Of knowing it was gone.
But when it's gone
It's gone.  Gone to
Memories all.  Even
Unto that original
Darkness from whence
We came  and if it should
Last a million million
Years till the light comes
To your eyes again.it will
Seem like only yesterday
You passed away and were
Born again today.  It is
Not within the power of
An ordinary man to do
All this but any super-
Man like you or I Yes
We could do it.  Dusty
Death Hell no not us.
Not forever.  The Bard
Be ****** The comet
Will return and so will
Mark Twain and the
Baby Jesus too   Just you
Wait and see Even S.
No matter what he
Said.  There are more
Things under heaven
and Earth than are
In your philosophy
Alas poor Horatio
I knew him well
So maybe we can
Both be right but
Yesterdays comet
Is gone and life is a
Poignant song that
Is famous log ago.

Baby oh babies mine
My heart goes out  to you
You were not loved as you
Should have been.  A world
Of fears respects itself to no
End.  Heaven still must wait
Do we yet not understand?
What could have been  must
Be.  It is now too late for lies
Believed unconceived by the
Children of Genesis who from
Eden fled; barred themselves
By their own deceit that Love
Is not Love but chose instead
A wall  There upon it are the little
Cherubim we were afraid to love
Guarding  it.  There where the desires
Of every heart are still are pure is
Our Paradise We can see it burning
Quench it with your tears It is but
A conceit  When you claim to know
It is but your  conceit you  know


Repent. I say still our God hears
May hear us yet: Let the little children  
Come unto me  thus.saith the Lord

The stars in the sky..So High.  
So far away.  Singing  Singing
About my life up in Heaven
Sing about my life way down
Here.  Angels Singing about
My life way down here.

Unknown my life and all
It's history  made grande
Things I have done. Things
Have happened to me, An
Imperfect life Fill of broken
Things and the Angels sing
About my life remembered












unknown ***** remembered me

What ever is made of  loss
It is not the equal thereof-
Who would not excahange
Even immortal words to Un-
Know the broken heart that
Insired them. The shattered
Dreams that were as bread
That do not mend but break
Again to ptoclaim their cost
As waves do break upon the
Shore saying forget  me not
.

Still there comes a time when
All stands in ghostly equipose
The empty stage late at night
Tells the oldest tale of all that
There is a peace that abideth in
The soul.  As one lying upon the
Earth looking up sees in the night
Sky that it is good- that in the starry
Heavens there is a place where the
Heart can rest after all's been done

The sovereignty of now so quickly passes
Gone on to the stillness of the time before
Where in  peace reigns in the silence sung
All is one  All is one; and  so unfathomable

Let us be quick about  this To love is to
Serve That is how you know it is love the
Willingness wholehearted willing-passion
To be the servant of another as a god unto
Your heart.  Such euphoria it is to know the
Gift has been accepted and understood for
What it is -that you have been conquered by
Love willingly and joyfully without pride
Without reservation, without change.  So
Is God unto you; loving without shame is to
Know that you are made in His image

To the one who knows it i
Come quickly