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Paul Butters Jan 4
Science suggests that when we die
We become no more than skeletons and dust.
But The Bible says we will end up
With God in Heaven.
Others believe in Reincarnation:
That we promptly return
As another being –
A person, animal or whatever.

But what if God lives in each of us
One at a time
For Eternity?
What if He or She (or Whatever) foregoes those “Super Powers”
To experience Mortal living
In these frail bodies of ours?
Over and Over
Without End.

Which raises the possibility –
A reminder of “Matrix”
And just a fleeting thought
That right now I could be “The One”:
I could be God.

Paul Butters

© PB 4\1\2022.
rose hopkins Nov 2021
Like a sleepwalker
she passed through each day.
Voices chattered in her head,
Snatches of conversations
That she could not quite catch.

She dropped like a stone through her emotions
And lay in silence on the bottom.

Battered and bruised
She ached at every turn,
Or floated softly among the shadows
Guarding her spirit.

It seemed she had passed
Through a threshold of pain
That held her on the edge,
Like the new born......
And the shadows nurtured her
Behind the veil of her own consciousness,
Waiting for the memory
To rise up into the light of her being.

When it came she was filled with fire,
Warming her as it spread
through her soul,
And she knew a new knowledge
That was older than she,
Older than her previous selves ,
Older than the Earth.
Slowly,she raised herself,
Taller than she'd ever been.

Filled with courage
she stepped out,
Over the edge,
And she joined all of her other selves,
Embracing them with open arms.
Sobbing,she acknowledged herself
As she flew with her shadows
Back through time,
Back to her beginning
From whence she had first set out
In the darkness of ignorance.

The light shone so brightly,
Drawing her own light towards it
In a spinning ****** so intense
That she let go of herself,
Separating into a million points
of light as she joined the pool.
Her lights bounced off each light
They touched in an ecstasy of greeting.

Looking back ,
Towards the edge,
She watched the shadows
Nod their satisfaction
Before they turned away,
Fading into the darkness that was the Earth.
Rita,   Mado,  Thelma
L May 2021
A wolf in the bushes. A deer in the clearing.
      I know you are looking at me
        because I too am the wolf.

You know I know, because you are me in my knowing.
We are so quiet in our hiding, and yet the deer raises its head.
You sprint to me now.
Here our ever-loving, this sacred tragedy.

O beloved Ever-Creature,
Will you chase me into Godliness, or into the end of It?
I will chase you more–
My precious enemy, again and again.

Divine Ouroboros.

How fragile the leg that snaps, how ****** the neck torn.
You slip and I catch you. I fight and we die together.
The antlers today, the doe eye tomorrow.
Forever this day, no matter the way.

We are the running, the forest, the hooves and fang.
The twig that catches my leg, the corner that traps us.
God is when I **** you.
It is your teeth in my flesh, the tear in the widened eye– my precious thing, and then we do it all again.

A wolf in the bush. A deer in the clearing. You make no sound, but I know where you are. I lift my head and see you. I know you. I know you. I have always known you.
gracie Apr 2021
Little white sheep on a faded blue pillowcase
          your hair strewn across like a
sleepy blonde storm.

I’ve got the strangest feeling...

Last night I had a dream—perhaps a memory
          of you bathed in golden light,
                    pulling up fistfuls of grass
          and piling it on my bare knee.

          A voice low and purling
with the stream at our feet.
                    Silk on skin.
                              Lips on peaches.
                                        Pinky promises
                              on Sunday afternoons.

We wear socks to glide over the kitchen tiles
          humming along to an ancient song on the radio.
another old poem reworked
BSween Apr 2021
On a patch of the yard
Behind my house
Lives are being risked
And even lost
Nature maintains.
Each end not a spectacle
But a prelude.
This is not a subtle thing
But simply the cost
Of perpetuity.
Alicia Mar 2021
when doe brown eyes met chrystal blue
I froze somehow I recognized you
thunder struck
I choked on my own breath
senses and synapses firing
my ears ringing deaf
gravity lifted body and soul
broken pieces now made whole
we tied our red threads
without mourning
our old lives now dead
then arms like an elm
wrapped warmth and security
as your voice like an orchestra
sang to me
calling me home
to the place I was fated to be
Safrina Kabir Mar 2021
I was dead inside
For so long
A piece of coal
Deep deep down

Now you watch me
Sparkling bright
Glittering fair
You cannot break me
Anymore
Sorrow and hardship can make you stronger. Like coal is transformed into diamond. Nothing and nobody can break then.
Rama Krsna Mar 2021
white lotus
now stung thrice
by a self centered bee,
could you ever forgive me?

don’t say a prayer
for me now,
as three roller coaster trips
down unknown uteruses
await

more skulls
for that crescent bearer
adorning a blue throat
to wear as a garland
as he waltzes
his way through
the raging funeral pyres
of the cremation grounds
in soul filled Varanasi

© 2021
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