Lotus

The flower of the Virgin Mary floats luminous on the muddy ponds of the world. Nightly, the white petals fall one by one in the moon light onto the dark blue surface of time. The flower on which Brahma the Creator reclines & creates all that is with the languorous grace of certainty. The flower from which Osiris the Egyptian God of Reincarnation emerges. The closed lotus of Green Tara, yearning for the opening of awareness. The full bloom of White Tara embodying the moment of Enlightenment. Look around you. Everywhere.... signs that we are guided & protected. Walk in Beauty.

ACE OF CUPS

The longer I live my life the more I know the only life worth living is the spiritual life. The material world... the world of the day to day becomes less & less important. I see evidence of the Divine in all things around me. I strive to live my life... all aspects of my life as if each & every action... each & every interaction has deep spiritual significance. Light, Love & the miracle of water which in fact is the essence, the true blood of Life itself, are the three principles that sustain me.  I surrender. I accept. I have experienced the abiding baptism of the Beauty of the Source. It nourishes me. It sustains me. It allows me to enter into the Truth.

GREY EYES

 The Divine reveals Itself to us in the gaze of infinite faces. Most of the faces we recognize are no more or less than reflections of our own perception of ourselves. Are we made in the image of God? Or is God made in the image of us? In the parthenon of Athens stood a forty foot statue of Athena the Goddess of Wisdom. The Queen of Swords sits on a throne much like the throne Athena sat upon... sits upon. As a male of the species Homo Sapiens I imagined the Divine to have a masculine form. More & more I bow in complete humility to the creative principle of the Divine Feminine the fertile mysterious field underlying everything. The Queen of Swords... Athena the grey-eyed... two faces of the Divine.

SWORD & CHAINS

My truth is not your truth. Your truth is not my truth. Neither of our truths more than approximates the deep truth that underlies the surfaces, in the depths of the Creation. We are set free by that truth but not by proclaiming any ownership of it. Systems of thought, ideologies, religions, philosophies, mythologies, all proclaim themselves as vessels of truth. Each is merely a sketch... a draft... a hypothesis of the deep abiding principle that underpins all that is. When I say "I live in the mystery" 

  I affirm the point of view that my truth... my vision is very slight. The deeper truth is beyond my grasp. It takes humility to relinquish my version of the truth. I live in the mystery of the truth that enfolds all truth.

EMBLEMS

What are the co-ordinates... the signifiers... the emblems... that sketch out the languages with which we communicate... that allow us to know that each & every one of us is not alone in the vastness of the space-time continuum?  Numbers, notes, star-charts, maps & yes... words. These are the symbols that let me touch you... you touch me.  I have a whole cosmos inside me. You also.  Know that my cosmos is similar to your cosmos... that in fact they are the one cosmos. Without these emblems how would you know? 

I push "RETURN" & your field of knowing lights up. We are not as far from enlightenment... from true awareness as we fear. Just one more poem. One more painting. One more equation. One more symphony. The emergence is close. So close. Open your eyes. Open.

TRANSMUTATION

I live by the words... “Let it be me!”. I am willing to be changed... utterly changed. Like the caterpillar ( by the way if you haven’t googled caterpillars for awhile take a little moment & do that now... you will be blown away by the weirdness, the diversity, the complexity & the absolute astounding beauty of this the lowliest of creatures) I am surrendering to the necessary process of becoming who I have always been. Surrender. Accept. The glimpse.. the mere glimpse of the Sublime perfection that underpins all that is will sustain you for the rest of your mortal existence. ( by the way if you haven’t googled butterflies for awhile take a little moment.....). Ahhhh... ease back into the easy chair... it is going to be alright.

BUTTERFLY

Open up the circus flap... a zillion dauble down.

Scarlet stipple polka dot... dazzle bluish brown.

Jackson Pollack green the grass with splash of sordid pink.

Gauguin all the poplar leaves & tremble black to kink.

But do not touch the powder white, the fragile wings of flight

Crack the fissure, lava’s fault & molten rupture red.

Icings take the cake or pillows violet on my bed.

Follies light with pastel hue the palest girlish flush.

Shatter bottle green & blue the wine of rosee blush.

But do not touch the powder white, the fragile wings of flight

Tear a strip from noon day sky...  paste to coral reef

Mine the depths of ocean foam... behold the bluest sea.

Tumble , tumble silken rags in the tumble dryer.

First of July on a spangled eve, warblers on a wire.

But do not touch the powder white, the fragile wings of flight