in the changing light
the little clay pot
shaped by unknown hands
sits on my table like a guru; still, silent,
and untroubled by my desire
for the world and all the things in it
to affirm me.
its broad form opens
like the cup of a lotus
in to which my mind pours;
where i am held, listening.
its lengthening wide shadow
all the things on it.
The feel of you in my arms,
pressing closer to me when I move.
Completely safe with each other,
wrapped up together all night.
Problems flow into my mind,
then completely dissipate.
They dissolve into the wind,
because they don't matter.
Knowing I can wake up next to you,
and your lips there awaiting mine.
Your hand held tightly around me,
never letting me go.
It gives me the comfort and happiness,
I haven't had in months.
You make me, me again
Positive words of wisdom,
spread through the cool, dry air.
Feeling the whispering wind,
brush swiftly across my hair.
Daffodils spreading sunshine,
Roses giving warmth,
Orchids beaming bright
continuing to sway back and forth.
A beautiful lotus gleaming above all,
floating in the sparkling pond.
The sun glistens in the water below,
radiating across, far and beyond.
How delicate it is:
the gold, woven chain
of the flower of life
in the black of night.
A silent, prolific space
holding petals of exquisite grace
that are placed in living symmetry
around the life-giving stem:
the heart of hearts
that withstands and mends
through all the joy and burden.
The petals never break, never bend.
They link together without end
in strength of love’s unwavering might,
casting healing glows of spirit light,
electric and pervading --
elating all who are held within
with an endless, conscious current
that turns most divine, intentional circuits,
sentient and perfect.
Until the bloom of the whole
initiates the bloom of the heart
and we lose our bonds to evolve into the art --
to be the seeds that help grow the light,
gestating us away from the illusions of life.
We are the endless jewels radiant and rife,
resting within the deep, white folds
of the gentle lotus.
The very opus.
We sing the Om of ultimate knowing
into flawless, spoken design.
Every age acting as the next threaded bead
to help keep the prayer in time.
I am upset
Ain’t talking to you
Coquettishly dallied she
For the promise
You have broken
Taking me with you
To the place, your so favorite, TODAY
There, you say, drizzle is the music
Colors the dance
And beauty the art
Where the peacock
Feather-paints blue in the garden
On the green
Oh inamorata, holding her hand, caressing her hair
I was waiting for this darkness
For this night: Said I
Hand in hand shall we walk
Beyond the garden
To the lake on the other side
For the spectacle
Better I had promised of
Have pondered the whole day, have found for the night
We’ll watch together with the stars
Heavens’ Cleopatra has descended
To that pond, since your childhood you have graced
In the scent of meditating pink and purple lotuses
White and yellow lilies
Hyacinths, Thalia, pitcher plants, marigolds, arrowheads
All the other flowers
Forgive me, of which you know, I not
You love in or by the pool
Tonight, that white moon you want to touch
is swimming naked in their pool, your pond…
there isn't all that much to worship
but the long fingers of some unknown
god granting us with melody
or maybe this girl of my dreams
she sells sea shells by the slaughterhouse
a real diamond in the rough
saving dimes to escape from inbred mountain
I found truth in a forgotten library
the rise of the blue lotus
watered by the flooding of pain