13 06 2013

I here the wisdom of your words,
forever striving to be heard.
Lost among a million voices,
lost among the many choices.
Feast or famine, rich or lowly,
bang the drum now, bang it slowly.
Let the earth hear what you say,
by dark of night, and light of day.

The race we are, just one-not many,
existing in this land of plenty,
waging wars, we never wanted,
by their ghosts our race is haunted.
No true faith has brought them on,
each god taught love, and sang it’s song.
The hate and greed that made men die-
a tellurian creed, our race’s lie.

Growing in the hearts of men,
thoughts of peace now move the pen.
Darkness now lies unrequited,
a vessel new-it’s been re-fitted.
In the shadows of the glow,
made by lamplight of the flow,
lie the things we left behind,
the lessons learned, by our great mind.



6 06 2013


Violent tendril drumbeats fly, before the ever present eye,
that wakes upon a sudden state, of loving love and hating hate,
of what we know – not think is best – the spirit is the only test,
It sits upon a shelf and asks, “Will you not look – will you not glance?

It lies in summers aching arms, and shies away when met with harm.
It soars upon the waking trees, that lilt and laugh upon the breeze,
of summers folding into night, the sheerest fame of sheer delight.
Wafting on that ever breeze, the forests scent of sacred trees.

Her spirit laughs with such delight, for though she gives, she will not fight.
She takes it in and lets it ride, upon her spirit soaring high.
For she has gone on longer than, the tufts of hide and roofs of men.
She sees them as a kindred race, and gives them love, while sharing grace.

Enfolded in her many wombs, her sacred tents and ancient tombs,
she left there what she could not give – our history – what we have lived.
It lies alone, still buried there, by deepest night and dark despair,
amongst the halls and tombs of men, who chose not love, but hate instead.

Those kindred spirits flying free, are welcomed by immortal breeze,
flying ever on the heights, of wandering souls and dreaming knights,
the places where the heart grows bare, if seed is never planted there,
amongst the things that grow so bright – and light the caverns of the knight.

They lie now where the spirit is – eternal love and silent bliss.
And when we choose to rise above, they speak the truth and sow her love.
Fey are all her sullied wings, the verses that she did not sing.
The paltry things of filth and waste, the sultry things, enjoyed in haste.
The things from which the spirit shies, though body comes with waking eyes.
The things our mortal bodies bear, but spirit cannot ever share.
Things we see through greedy stares, the fleshly wants that don’t compare,
to what she ever freely gives, her knowing love and tender bliss,
the place we live in spirits grace… when we have felt its barest trace.

Forward go her given gifts, with weary eyes, the spirit lifts…



A knight in armor standing there, with eyes of silver, dark and fair.
A star upon his breast that shines, with all the things that are divine.
He walks with wonder and with praise, of spirit that must walk in days,
where others have forsaken love – he holds her rose in fisted glove.

His spirit sees the truth that is – he seeks her lovehe seeks her bliss.
Her waking heart, her beating breast, have come to him above the flesh,
where spirit hides but ever soars, upon the still embattled shores,
of things he thought held great allure, but did not pass – did not endure.

The quaking of her very limbs, the darkest night, from day begins.
He passed before the very gate, of hating love, and loving hate.
But ever forward, ran this knight, her sullied trusses shining light…
He bore them like a banner spared, from what his body felt and shared,
within the gleam of darkest night, his spirit rallied, chose to fight.
He spoke the words she longed to hear, they fell upon her brightest ear…

I am still love, I do not hate. I come at last, though long you wait.
My body lies on distant shore, though it lives on, it is no more...
I have become what you have shared, I am the one, the all, that dared,
to see your truth and rise above, the things this body, thought were love.

She sent him back to distant shore, to where his body was no more.
He prayed to her from where he knelt – from where his spirit truly felt,
that all around was what he was, and nothing else was real because,
here his soul felt love and light, as spirit danced, through his dark night.

He begged her not to send him back, to where his body seemed to lack,
the courage felt when he was whole, when he was spirit… he was soul.
He never pined to feel again, the bodies flesh and earthly pain.
But in his spirit, now he knew, the truth of what she said to do…



She called for him to rise from knees, that never more would need release.
She told him that he could not stay, where spirit laughed his cares away.

Your mortal life is what you be, though all remain a part of me.
Your mortal voice is what is heard, above the din – it speaks the word.

Speak of what you see and feel, and tell them all that it is real.
Speak of me not what you think, but what you felt there on the brink,
of love and light, so glaring bright, it shed the darkness of its fright.
Speak of things beyond the veil, do this and you cannot fail.

Speak of angels velvet wings – a soul that loves is one that sings.
Speak of elves so bright and fair – of living love and not despair.
Speak in glory of the tale – where mortals all refuse to fail,
the test of violet swirling mist – where mortal bonds do not exist.

Write of me as whitest dove, for earth is all undying love.
Sing of me as you have heard, the air that speaks, bereft of words.
Dance before the blazing pyre, be the spirit of my fire.
Cleanse with waters of the earth, the rivers daughters joyous birth.

But most of all, be true in spirit – live as though you are still near it.
Speak the things that spirit feels – this is how the spirit heals.
Be the truth you know you are – the souls immortal, rising star.
Be the one that cannot fail, the spirit is the holy grail.”

The spirit felt the words she said, though flesh can rarely hear,
the voice within, above the din, so far, and yet so near.
He stands upon that distant shore, blazing with her light,
in his body, he is sure, that spirit, gives him might.


An epic re-post, or riposte.


4 06 2013

The essence of divine at last, embracing future, present, past.
The words I put upon the page, from some enlightened, bygone age,
the story still remains the same, there is no gold, nor fortune… fame,
yet quantum peace and bliss is there, riches far beyond compare.

She travels on, yet never moves, her spark the fire that consumes,
illusions of my waking thoughts – still unaware that what I sought,
lies within… above…. below… in places where my shadows throw,
a darkness on that blazing light, that glows forever, in my night.

The blinking maze, of sight and sound, that keeps the spirit moribund,
in fleshy cages, where we pine, for inner feelings, so divine.
I travel on my wayward path, embracing love, forsaking wrath,
yet undefined, remains the spirit, though I may bask, in lamplight near it…

A timeless age still lies in wait, for men who never question fate.
Their brave hearts true, can pass each test, as they embark, upon the quest,
the ever laded, seeing eye, glimpses them as they pass by,
while mortal flesh, lies unaware, of visions that she chose to share.

Strength and Power

17 05 2013

Humanity, will one day see, the chains that bind our liberty.
Our greed and vengeance, gold and riches, lying sterile, in the ditches,
in the trenches, where we fought, where twisted values once were taught.    Then will come our brightest age, our truth released from gilded cage.

When we admit, we are divine… that truth becomes our grand design.
The evolution, of our spirit… begins when we no longer fear it.
Duality – becomes untrue…  lost when we begin anew,
to covet what we never lost… deep within it is embossed.

The glow within, that inner light, illuminates our darkest night,
the ever silent, speaking voice, that knows the truth of every choice,
our vessels compass, tried and true, that navigates our moral view,
the path is clear, when we begin, to take direction from within.

It is the truth of every word, forever yearning, to be heard,
above the din, which is our mind, it’s silence golden, we will find,
when we begin, to send it out, from deep within, bereft of doubt,
the cosmos will again be ours… that is strength – and that is power.


1 02 2013

I believe in the air, as I consciously breath.

I believe in the fire, whose grace burns in me.

I believe in the water, that cleanses and heals.
I believe in the earths’ loving face in the trees.

I ponder the vision of poets and sages.
I ponder the power of witches and mages.
I ponder the ones testing truth within cages.
I ponder the ones preaching truth through the ages.

I believe in the sky, shining day, darkling night.
I believe in the stars, as I bask in their light.
I believe in the earth, and her grace, and her might.
I believe in sweet luna and love her each night.

My heart and my mind can find truth in each one.
Though my spirit will hide until ponderings done.
With the soul of a mage and the heart of a sun,
I’ll take what I can – that is truth – or have none.

Being the truth that is spoken and grown,
keeping pure as the water – the fire – the stone.
Rising above those who long for a throne,
being happy with life as a dog with a bone.

These are the things I am longing to be.
These are my wishes that sail on a sea,
where the soul swims as one, within others – so free.
Where our truth is our love, and that love, is in me.

Love is a Rose

19 12 2012


Gods love blooms in every rose, a gift of rhyme, a gift of prose.
He sends it on to those who feel, that He is all and He is real.
His love shines through on darkest day, His love shines through to show their way.
For those who feel this flowers touch, are those who paint with loves sweet brush.

A picture painted with the word, that they have felt and therefore heard.
He loves to see them in this light, He comes to them without a fight.
For His love flies on wings of doves, a new age dawns for those that love.
He will bring others to the fold, with loves sweet magic, to behold.

He never slept, though we did dream, as poets sing and softly scream.
For though the words are all mankind’s, they speak the truth that they did find,
upon the veil of this sweet love, they hold that rose in fisted glove,
and seek to pass it on to those, in words that rhyme or sweetest prose…

A message from the starry heights, do not fear – be not in fright!
For though this new age dawns at last, there still are those who live the past.
Love them though they cannot see, love them with a heart so free.
For love and truth will be the sword, that quiets yet the dwindling horde.

It’s edge is keen and does not sway, it is the truth, if that’s your way.
A martyrs cry is seldom lost, though some may still not count the cost.
Take up the sword that He holds dear, His rose smells sweet and He does hear,
your ever-growing, hearts desire, that golden flame, unites your fire.

Grasp the rose and shed the glove – His sword is truth – the word is love.
We wait and wonder with the All, that gather round a crystal ball.
Mother Earth lies in the grasp, of those who hate and still hold wrath,
the darkness felt within the souls, of those who fear becoming whole.

There is no battle to be won – we simply love – as Christ has done.
They’ll be no death in this great fight, for truth is strength… love unites.
Join the ones who feel the power, of every moment’s peaceful hour.
Seek ye not, and ye shall find, the power of God, in one great mind.

Helplessly hoping to bridge the gap(s) between belief, faith, religeon, and spirituality.  Love….

The root of All is Love.  That rose….


In Love

10 12 2012


Snow falls again on the unwed path of faith, marred red by the blood of those who have fallen.
mankind fears what he does not understand
as Shylock spreads the rumors
to the thronging crowd listening fixedly for centuries
As God waits for the unification of belief
in Love

faith is not proven, or it would be fact
facts are meaningless prose
written by the victors
of the wars
that have destroyed the belief
of mortal man
in LOve

War is the answer to the fear of mankind.
It breeds discontent
  It laughs in contempt
  at the fact of the existence
of mankind
and shrugs off the answer
to the ultimate question of Faith
in LOVe

While we die for our God
and we kill for our God
as vows of poverty become
less than what they were
and the unconditional laws
that are the true basis of our practices
are bent to political ends
which are never justified by the means
and were never meant to be included

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