You are love, the loving and the beloved
In your ethereal light I pine to rest my soul
In the midst of your essence I long to find
A gentle embrace for my restless, wandering mind

The hidden meaning of what is, has ever been and will always be
The mystical remembrance of times I once knew
The house where the ultimate truth abides
Anywhere, nowhere and everywhere at once
Silent yet resounding like echos in the valleys and summits of Kandahar
Sublime in color, splendid in shape, sumptuous in form

Oh beloved I’ve been away for far too long
I seem to have wandered off on my way back to you.
There was an unexpected fork in the road
I chose the unmarked path that led me to where I have lingered here
And whence I long to make my journey home





© William Bratton, All rights reserved

A delectable day in a flawless forest
Trees embracing
with sprawling boughs and branches
yearning to touch each other’s essence
Gracefully green
Profoundly perceptive
Effortlessly effusive
in their undisguised beneficence
A beetle crossing an untrodden pathway
incessantly changing his trajectory
carefree and unsure of his destination
but steadfast in his resolve to get somewhere
A bee fluttering over flirtatious snapdragons
as if he were prudently selecting his bride to be
A nightingale singing her diurnal hymns
recounting a love once lost and another regained
A hint of honeysuckle fragrance meandering its way
to and fro
enrapturing all the denizens
of this sublime fragment of creation
A community of leafy, feathered, winged and petalled beings
united in selflessness, serenity and symphony
Heartening one another with a message of consolation:
Mother Earth is scathed but resilient
and she will pursue her sacred mission to nurture and protect
despite the follies of mankind

I’m going in and out of thoughts and emotions
Some linger, others vanish
But you stay
You’re permanent
You’re engraved in my mind, my heart and my soul
You never waver
You just belong
I wish I could belong too
I need to be that enduring, immutable thought in your mind
I need to find that place in your heart
that has no boundaries, no limits, no obstacles
I know it’s there
But it’s clouded by fear, doubts and uncertainties
Once the clouds disperse and pure light abounds
I’ll be waiting to abide
in the only place where I really want to be

Contemplating a desert flower
As she rises at the break of day
Invigorated by nocturnal repose
Nodding gracefully to the dawning sun
And warmly welcoming its rays
as they envelop her fullness
Dry in the drought of a barren land
But relishing every drop to be had
Exuberantly alone
Untroubled in her torrid abode
No trace of lamentation
No yearning for a shaded garden
Serenely expressing her beauty
by being all she is
and was ever meant to be
Blossoming nowhere
Belonging to no-one
Bound by nothing
Rejoicing in her essence
Within the oneness of creation

Don’t be disheartened if your lover says it’s done
There’s been no real conflict, no battle lost or won
But karmic debt is settled and you both need to know
That life must move on just as rivers need to flow

Don’t be disheartened if your efforts seem to fail
You may get some comforting news in the mail
That proves just the opposite of what you thought was true
And gives you the strength to face the music and start anew

Don’t be disheartened if love seems amiss
Which has cast your mind into the deepest abyss
Life isn’t stagnant but changes night and day
Flow with its course and love will surely come your way

Don’t be disheartened if your world seems bleak
Just change your attitude and start to seek
A journey however far begins with intent
Embrace the mountain and begin the ascent

Don’t be disheartened if you can’t find God
You’re in no way unworthy, unable or flawed
For the Source is within you, begging to be found
And when it’s discovered, endless joy will abound

There is a star above you
Enter its light and see yourself
as you are
and have always been
Beautiful
Loving
Caring
Pure
A joy to behold
and cherished
Don’t mind the surroundings
Just penetrate the light
and rejoice in its splendour
For it is you
You are the light
and you have come home
to yourself

A crisp morn in March, the day had begun
The passage of time, dishes needing done
Her walker in place, staring at her face,
calling her forth, the handles to embrace
She knew that without it there was no way
she could get through the routines of the day
but it felt so present, so awkward there
The things it meant, she could no longer bear
There were countless dreams to share with the world
and amazing feelings to be unfurled
The balcony would be the ideal test
It was there she could build her secret nest
and like a fledgling spread her wings and soar
The time was right and she could wait no more

It was lockdown time in her barren street
She could feel people’s loneliness accrete
So many of them getting on in years
trying to cope with their worries and fears
She knew as the day was soon to be done
that she could rekindle their hearts with song

Outside she looked at the streets dull and bare
But how vivid the setting sun felt there
She swelled her lungs with the evening air
and crushed the silence with her soulful prayer:

Lascia ch'io pianga mia cruda sorte
E che sospiri la libertà
Let me weep over my cruel fate,
And that I long for freedom
https://youtu.be/gI8q6kZ6bCE
In an instant her nocturne pierced the town
and balcony doors opened all around
Thousands emerging in wonder and awe
Their hearts enlivened and yearning for more
She sang for hours with compassion and grace
There were no more remnants of time and space
She had lifted the souls of all who heard
and felt the splendor of what had occurred
At night she pondered over what she’d done
and thanked the balcony and the setting sun.

There are times when I feel like a volcano
yearning to erupt to heavenly heights
Surging forces swelling within,
seeking a way to break free
Then I realize I am extinct

There are times when I feel like a prisoner
Hands tied, legs bound and mouth gagged
Screaming within the depth of my soul to escape
Then I realize I am my own prison

There are times when I feel like an abandoned child in a hostile land,
Starved, depleted, wretched and distraught,
pleading within for a human gesture to ease the pain
Then I realize I am a grown man in a stone-hearted world

But then there are times when the glittering rays at daybreak
caress my forehead as a mother her newborn child
These are precious times indeed
They soothe and console
but are scarce and ephemeral
They exist only in the realm of dreams

Apart from the unknown forgotten souls who have struggled so long, so hard - but in vain - for Love,
No-one is as drugged, drunken and intoxicated with longing as I






© William Bratton, All rights reserved

In my mind, I’ve scaled Mount Everest
and conquered ancient Rome
I’ve solo sailed the seven seas
without ever leaving home

In my mind, I’ve been a sultan
an emperor, prince or czar,
waged cosmic wars in spacecraft
without venturing very far

In my mind, I’ve built a mansion
with gardens prim and neat
entertaining famous people
never moving from my seat

In my mind, illusory thoughts abound
to delight my worldly sphere
but I ponder how my life can change
when it’s focused, calm and clear

Sitting on the pavement
in front of a department store
that people enter for no good reason
mostly because they’re bored with life
and need some retail therapy
Taking the last puff of a cigarette
he bummed off a homeless woman
He had to clear out
It was all shouting and no silence
all ego and no sharing
all reproof and no support
No connection
No feeling
No love
No nothing
At eighteen he has to fend for himself
but he’s free, and that’s a start
They won’t look for him
They won’t declare him a missing person
He could feel the scorn in their eyes
when he walked out the door
Courage and resilience
he keeps repeating to himself
That’s all he needs now
It’s just a chapter of life that’s ended
And a new one eager to begin
with words that keep flashing in his mind:
Be patient in darkness
The dawn is coming

Useless thoughts
They never really sleep
At night they lurk behind curtains,
ensconce themselves in bushes
and creep under rocks and stones
then they greet you upon waking like unwelcome guests
Their onslaught is then ceaseless as they come and go
like rush hour crowds in busy subway stations
They’re cunning like foxes
and always find a way to sneak in
like the neighbor’s cat on a blistering hot day
when you can’t close the windows
The Buddha said our minds are like drunken monkeys
jumping around, squealing and gibbering non-stop
« I’ll never make it til the end of the month»
« Maybe I should just have another drink »
« I really messed up at that meeting yesterday»
« I wonder if I’m being taken for granted»
« What am I going to wear to that dinner tonight»…
They’re relentless, endless, like cascades
Sadhus counsel the practice of Sadhana
and they do seem to back off
during those minutes of breath connection
but they then return like swarms of locusts
when you stop being and resume doing
It’s part of the human plight one would say
Some boldly assert that they think therefore they are
but I’d rather say I am where futile thinking is not

The moon is tormenting me tonight
It’s not that it’s new, full or crescent-shaped
or that its glimmer is enticing me with its beguiling grace
messing with my mind and unsettling my soul
It’s the reminder of our alienation
the line that I drew in the sand
and that you chalked on the pavement
that burst the bond we thought was impermeable
and made us drink from a shattered cup
How could such wholeness have become so severed?
We needed no words to reveal our emotions
No colours to portray our dreams
Now even volumes can’t mend the wounds
And colours have faded to the greyness of grief
I am not afraid of being alone
It’s your solitude that plagues me
It’s your suffering that is breeding mine
Your despair is piercing every cell of my being
Your tears are so harrowing that I have none left to shed
I can only cry into the pool of agony that has been bored into my heart
What was has been and can be no more
We were on the verge of mutual annihilation
And pleas to God could not have saved us
For we, not God, were makers of our fate
We’ll reenact this again in lives to come
As we’ve done so often in those gone by
The cycle is vicious and will only end
When the sand in our hourglass has run out
And found its way back to the sea of eternity

Why such despair in blighted love?
Hopeless feelings invading us in droves
Gloominess giving way to bleakness
Bleakness sinking into the pits of
self-destruction

Why would a human being do this to another
or even self-inflict such misery?
For what reason? to what end?
Is there something wrong with two souls seeking a secret refuge where they can merge as one?
Is there something perverse in their even wanting to sink together into dry quicksand?

It’s destiny, kismet, karma or whatever that hinders souls from venturing beyond the bounds of Eros
We need nothing, no-one, nowhere else but ourselves here and now
Carnal interests keep the fire alive for a time
I love you if you love me so we can keep on calling it even
But what if one day you don’t or I won’t
The fragile foundations cave in
and the edifice of our relevance collapses
A chapter of our lives has been cut short and wiped away
Eros has had its day!

Philos provides a nice desert island for two beings to share
I love you because you love me - we’re two peas in a pod
We laugh together, pine together, whine together
It’s fellowship, affection, companionship all wrapped in a bundle
But what if the because becomes conditioned by a however?
However your habits, our habits are getting me down
You’re intruding on my territory, you’re stifling me.
So much for Philos....

Then there’s Agape.
Unlimited, unquestioned, unconditional, unreserved
I love you in spite of everything - your flaws, hangups, shortcomings, attitudes, idiosyncrasies...
and I love all of humanity and all sentient and non-sentient beings because we are all an honor to the Creator, a spark of the Source and we will all ultimately return to the oneness from whence we came

Now what would this world be like if Agape was poured generously into everyone’s drinking water?

¡Paraiso, Hombre, Paraiso!

She knows that life has been lingering on

The patterns, the sounds, the forms all the same

The dusty lamps, the trodden floors

Have all been permanent for so long



She knows that life has meaning at times

There were children to bring forth and raise,

caring friends she could turn to and trust

and faithful pets to warm her heart

But they are now long gone



She knows that life has its price to pay

A drunken man she once called her other half

A son living in debauchery and hate

A daughter who never answers her calls

They are still around if only in name

But names are stubborn like facts



She knows it’s just a matter of time

When the daily ritual will cease to be

The cluttered rooms emptied and cold

The joys and pains boxed away

But that time is yet to come

And the wheel must keep turning



She knows that in life there is hope

That when all is said and done

And the final review is flashed through her mind

A gentle light will penetrate the clouds

And beckon her back to the Source of all

That is what keeps her going

And when it comes she’ll be ready

© William Bratton, All rights reserved

I’ve had it with love
Days of expectation
Nights of rumination
Battered with emotions
Sinking into the ground
I came to your door
and gently knocked
You sent me away
saying I was drunk
Perhaps I am
drunk with longing
drunk with pain
drunk with despair
But how could you know
if you won’t even open the door?

On the road to Bimington there’s a sign
I don’t know why it was put there
It just says « stay strong »
I suppose it’s meant for everyone
But it seems to resonate so personally
It just lingers there
With nowhere else to go
but into people’s minds
so they can cope with life and carry on

On the road to Bimington there’s a lake
that glistens in the morning sun
and never fails to catch the eye
of anyone who passes by
whether by chance or by design
in whatever mood or state of mind
All are attracted to the glittering light
that adorns the pristine water
and reveals the secrets within

On the road to Bimington there’s a cottage
where an old woman sits in her garden at dawn
praying it may seem, but without words
She’s there but very much elsewhere
There are flowers and birds all around her
that appear to be imparadised by her presence
Their colours and forms are exalted
Their fragrance and song are sublime
and their graceful chorus never seems to end

On the road to Bimington there are woods
Where a heedful doe peeps out from behind trees
and caresses your heart with her large, soft eyes
She never ventures to emerge until you’re gone
but at a distance you can contemplate her beauty
and the peace that she procures
The woods are graced by her presence
The air is blessed by her bleating
and souls are warmed by her gentleness

I haven’t been to Bimington of late
but I remember lots of furrowed brows and clenched jaws
People there just seem to plod through life
Perhaps that’s why someone put the sign on the road
If only they would venture out of their confinement
and journey on the road that leads to their abode
They could experience the universe as it truly is
and be replenished with all they will ever need
to « stay strong »

The road to love is narrow
It winds around hidden feelings
and into tunnels of emotions
There are signs everywhere
warning you to slow down
or yield the right of way
There are potholes
that jolt and revolt you
You try to steer clear
but they re-emerge
even bigger and deeper
The adjacent countryside
has its sweet sensations
but it’s so transient
so elsewhere
not on the asphalt
not within the lines
you have no choice
but to stay the course
or lose control
and weave off the highway
back to dim reality
The road to love is illusive
but so enticing,
so unearthly

She hates hospitals
They’re so sanitized
The floors, the walls, the smells, the talk
She’s driven by this one so many times
and always looks the other way
They reassured people about covid19
«All those people are isolated »
« Those people », really?
Her husband’s undergoing tests
and she has to wait it out
The guy coughing in the corridor
is making her think twice about
« those people »
The doctor looked a little too young
but he had a nice smile under his mask
She noticed his empathetic eyes
But how will she manage
if he can’t work any more?
The insurance company will say
it’s a pre-existing condition
She’ll have to go back to work
Maybe her brother-in-law can find something
at the supermarket he manages
But how will she cope with those
incessant checkout beeps all day long?
Her daughter will have to quit college
How will she even begin to tell her?
She’s doing so well and is so close to graduating
The white walls are staring at her reproachfully
and the woman across the room
has a contemptuous look on her face
Could this be her doing?
Has she been pushing him too far about overtime?
She told him they couldn’t afford that car
but she finally gave in cause his heart was set on it
She seldom gives in when it comes to money
It’s going to be hell and she just doesn’t know
How long is this going to take?
Oh there’s the young doctor with the gentle gaze
He’s slowly walking towards her
She just doesn’t know!
He’s keeping his social distance
but his eyes are smiling
Mrs. Collins the tests came out fine
Your husband’s just overtired
With some rest at home
he’ll be back on his feet in no time…

At length we move in spaces well known
Minds winding around travelled roads
Thoughts moving in posted directions
'Til suddenly an obscure path appears
Unexpected, unknown, unmarked, undisturbed
It is there that we hear a soundless voice
Whispering the way, the road to tread
Fearless, resolute, unbound
Colors unveiling as our hearts unfold
Sounds rising to symphonies
Forces sublimating by divine volition
Flowing freely out of space and time
Stars gleaming in wondrous form
Beckoning us to move on and on
Delving into the blessed unknown
Towards the approaching sacred light
from whence we had come
Welcome home!















© William Bratton, All rights reserved

There is much to be said about words
They can be duplicitous
They are indeed ubiquitous
They can sublimate
They can denigrate
Some are meaningless and bare
Others purposeful and rare
But otherwise
They just always seem to be there
Sounded off like steam from a spout
Or uttered gently with no need to shout
They can be sincere or disingenuous
They can be heartening or acrimonious
They can be deep
They can be cheap
Without them babies seem to fare quite well
And in silence yogis inner chaos quell
For the ultimate truth is beyond speech
Of course we all need words to learn and teach
To convey thoughts and emotions, big or small
But That which IS doesn’t need them at all