God is energy

Energy moves

Movement is life

Life is God

God is energy

In the beginning, There was God.

And then God made love. And God saw that it was good.

And then God turned to John Lennon and asked ‘Are you sure this is all we really need, John?’

And John nodded and spoke. ‘It is indeed.’



…… Said no priest ever.


But it is a funny thought isn’t it?

When do you think love was love first created?
Of when and how can probably be debated
I think though


One thing is for sure
Love in it’s essence before this mind of ours,
Was probably a lot more simple and pure

It probably came without pretty words and without a ring
Without a priest or church to accept it or anything

It would have been an unfettered union of connection
Coupled with fact
Of basic matter flowing and the action of simply being
And to enact
What things intuitively know
What things really just feel
Underneath the idealist baloney of love, what is truly real.

A lengthy definition, I know




But please hear me out. Please.

I just want to show
That perhaps love was meant to be the force in the background

That keeps all matter entwined together and tightly bound
And whether to you that notion rings true
I feel, that Underneath all these thoughts and feelings
Some form of pure love just flows through all of me and all of you

Do you feel that too?

I think love is the energy holding everything in the universe together.

Call it dark matter, the god particle, WHATEVER

The tiny tethers scientists just cannot seem to hold down and find
Unions of energy connecting on fundamental levels
Vibrationa-Wait…..I’m sorry.


STOP IT.


Just stop…. looking at me like that!

Stop lusting over what you hear and see
I am trying to tell you that love isn’t just about the feelings between you and me.


Geez.

Ahem…..

Now where were we?

Ah right

My basic fundamental laws of connectivity.


I am speaking of the whole universal components that ever was and will be

Each single moment


That makes up every inch of reality.


Love to me…. is everything you see. Everything is love.

Never mind Physicist, the Beatles had it right.

Love is all we really need!




But….. I wish that was the end of the story



Humanities definition isn’t that at all.
Today’s love to me is the slow and desperate fall
From something new to something old
The epitome emotion of a bold humanity
Bound in self desire
An empire of gluttonous self pleasure
Pure hedonistic leisure
Without thoughts that maybe
Just maybe
We’re doing this love thing all wrong
Maybe all along
Like I’ve been saying


Love was first and foremost simply implied
To be more than just something shared between man and wife
And solely humankind

Like, I REALLY love trees.

Seriously. It’s what I want to be eventually.


Anyway. Back to the story of love shall we?

You see, I have this theory that when society and language came along
Loves pure and universal


Well….. love song.


Got messed up and rambled
It got scrambled through a perspective of harsh survival, brutal rival and competition
A billion little expeditions of selfish love renditions.
Love became some hierarchy of

me

me

and me.


I imagine throughout humanities struggling ages
Love got captured behind enemy lines
Beyond the kingdoms of greed and lust
Imprisoned battered and busted
Love in these mental wartimes eventually

Became somehow in short desperate supply
It’s once abundant sustenance
Now rationed


Denied and refined


Into a quick hit drug we’re all standing in line to snort


For a moments pleasure

An escapism and a getaway leisure

Smuggled into our metaphysical prison

Of loneliness we make inside

And if that isn’t enough of a depressing thought

To reside upon

Love when imprisoned to it’s final degrees


Gets all the qualities it shouldn’t be
In the POW camps of our history, love changed to something less than ordinary

Jealously, anger, envy and fear

This wasn’t the arsenal Love had before these desperate years

Oh no my friend

I think Loves been hijacked and I think it’s a spy


Though, all conspiracies aside


I think the way we love today


Is a Shell shocked version of what the universe had in mind.

I mean sure the universe can be seen as a hostile place

A big dark scary space of colossal destruction


But it’s also creation

Constant efficient reiteration of all that is

Into what will be

To me that doesn’t sound so bad

If you are accepting that change

Is the only noble constant to be had

From all this being alive, thing

It seems change for humans is hard accepting


But the more I think, it’s what makes living beautiful right?

The duality and inevitability of day and night

Of life and death

The frailty of knowing in my head

These lungs I have one day will exhale my final breath, And a curtain will be drawn and I will be dead.

BUT THE SHOW! MUST! GO! ON!

.....Someone once said.



These thoughts don’t deny me of anything.

In fact they bring me joy

Because I employ the ideal that love is everthing.

The knowledge that my acts of love on life’s stage

Live on in you all, re-made and renewed in some way.

And even on a material level my body will be broken down again

Into the soils of this earth from which I was made

And I will help sustain something somehow

And still be a part of everything gracefully

…… Hopefully a tree.

And when the earth explodes eventually I’ll just be stardust again

Apparently from whence I came

And a pure ideal of reunited love simplistically will just be

Without any thought of me

Now… Isn’t that a wealth of selfless love right there

Above and beyond the compare to the scared notions of heaven and hell?

You thought because I spoke of God before, maybe that’s where my faith dwells?

No my friends, my strength lies in simply sharing simple love.


The one that is an unfettered union of connection
Coupled with fact
Of basic matter flowing and the action of simply being
And to enact
What we intuitively know
What we really just feel
Underneath this idealistic baloney of love,

What is truly real.

A lengthy definition of love, I know


But when all is said, and thought and done
And this place is inhabited by no one

I think It’s all the universe truly had to show.

Wind's comin in you crazy few wanderers
who
still wander in this madness we're still calling earth
can't you see, can't you see what's all around you?
Look! The walls. The walls are closin in, friend.
You're walking in circles while the world surrounds you,
is what you're doin. But, and I'm sorry for screaming,
you're free to go. By all means, pass this place.
Keep going, and go into the town, look around
and pass the time. It's a fine place for it.
You should know. When you leave, this
place for the next, for the next, for the next,
you'll find me. And all I do is sit. While I wait.
Why walk, when you can fly?

What wondrous wilds await us
Oh, we, the children of the vine
Our naked toes dance through freshly picked berries
Ushering fountains of wine

Bathing in bubbling sunsets
That blend the heavens and sea
Painting the face of the moon with the stardust
That makes up you and me

Players and waterfall drinkers
We swim with the stars in the sky
We sing that the fruitful serve the many
Even when they die

What wondrous wilds await us
Oh, we, the dewdrops of the morn
When sunrise beckons us back to the heavens
From whence we once were born

As for me, unwritten bites of
Sound and blurring blends of black and white,
The journey up and down made
One wonder
If the players played the game
Or the other way around

Rolling the dice with intentions undetermined
The dance eased on
--Push & Pull--
Marbles gravitating and compressing,
Dividing and merging--
Til cross-eyed observers forgot what they're looking at

Accidents and ignorance
Paved the way
With unexpected blessings
As the seeds of unintended
Consequence
Blossomed
in the Fertile Fields of Fate  .  .  .

Silent settling spurred
Conscious contrails of
Rebellion--
Subtle synergistically-imbued incarnations
Of space and time
Humming deeply clefted vibrations
In the company of conglomerating waves
Crescendos gathering
Sounds unspeakable
******* down self-carved channels
Recycling
Into
the
Source

--The Great Echo--

Reverberating through infinite probability
Casting shadows like statues in stone
Seen by strobe lights

till my aching flesh
break my hardened bones
plough my thirsting roots
prune my reaching arms
‘til all that once
I called my self
falls to the ground, gathered in a heap
—to fuel some future fire;
withers away, composting into the earth
—released to fertilize;
dries up, evaporating into clouds
—set free to fly;
leaks out, running off into ground waters
—flowing to the ocean;
rearrange me ‘til the changes
smudge the image,
blur the reflection,
futilize differentiation
between past and present,
here and there,
this and that,
life and death.

I come into being through
The tips of leaves
And transmit through roots into
The Earth

My planetary patience
Moves mountains
Without a whisper

I carve canyons
With my breath
And digest continents
In my bile

I come out of being through
Knowledge
And return to it through
Wisdom

Layers engulf and arise
Like a never ending ascending lasagne
Assembled by that unknowable self
And as the strings pull we dance
But the silent Manifestor continues his work
Without breath or form
Penetrating presence
Reflections gone awry
The echo of a silent cry