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There's sense in every opinion
But are we ready to listen?

Or are we too blinded by
The loudness that glisten?

We are too tiny an entity to spare
But world to the ones who care

There's no division of our beloved sky
Then why my friend, why do we pry?
Ram B Sep 1
When we stop
When we stay still
When we open our eyes
open our hearts
really see
really hear
be with our senses
here
now.
We see beauty,
We feel peace
and joy.
We receive love,
We give love.
We are one with everyone.
We are one with everything.
We are one with God.
One
A candle spark

Let's meet in the high fields
at sundown

8 billion souls

One inferno
fueled by wax above our heads

See how grand
a blaze
of change
we can devise

Before retiring to bed.
When no one notices
not even our own awareness
our branches
persist toward the sun

A rope swing dangles

Ready to hold Love,
to listen to Love,
to feel the embrace of Love,
to give Love a push
and to pull Love back
when it has wandered too far

The wind blows us left
the rain torrents right

Through our boughs
our leaves

letting go

down one
down all
It is astounding, despite circumstances, how strong humans can be.
I wade into its forest
and wander inside its ocean
this heart carries their rhythm
my love ‘tis its own

I soar across this earth
and walk beyond its skies
my feet rest upon its solidity
its foundation is my home

I ingest its symphony
and bathe in its purity
this mind becomes empty
Oneness and I, alone

I listen to its fruitfulness
harvesting its riches
this body fills with silence
its void is my unknown

It sees through these eyes
all of its creations
this spirit is in but not of this world
my breath it has bestowed
8/13/20 to voice enlightenment is to never say a word. Yet I cannot keep quiet what so definitively wants to be heard.
Poetical Aug 4
The individual
is dual,
one 
divided 
two-sided
self,—
the I am someone
and
the I am someone 
who is no one.
Tenant Jul 19
Beauty eluded by a conscious mind
Categorical separation troublesome yet benign

Buttered breads and flower limes
symphonies and sunrise
Intuition and intellect walk a fine line

Two and one intertwine
Sense and time

A mother's kiss and a gush of sweetness
A Thebian's play unpleasantness
beauty incapsulated by this.


An ode to strawberry fields
An ode to works
An ode to what's within which can't be without
An ode to be sealed by a kiss
An ode to the keenest sorrow and its nourishment
An ode is to be sung with rhythm and varied meter, but this one time forgive yourself for the misuse.  wish to escape the intellect, to become what my memory would allow, all that is precious in youth, expressed in works of beauty.
tulip
in its root is
every root
A rewrite of no. 131.
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