The Dream and the Jewel

Sweet sweet One!
You are a joyful thing
A glittering priceless Soul
Hidden in heavy velvet wrapping

Truth Joy Bliss Glory Grace
Is Soul
Uncovered
A gem shining
Limitless light

This Material Mirage
Looks real
But like a dream
It is forgotten as soon as you
Wake Up!

Soul's eyes, when they open
See the safe signs of a home
She forgot in that dark dream
Where everyone told her
She was crazy

Why be content with the wrappings,
Pretty though they are?
Why lie around dreaming,
If the dream keeps biting you?

Open up
All is One
God in me salutes God in you
We are nothing
We are everything
We are perfection

A sick soul is a soul divided
A cracked gem loses its luster
Find a good doctor
Who has the right medicine
Who gives you comfort
Who brings you back home

A garden with a tree

Growing into the sky, leaves plummeting down to the earth only to shower the fragile and ever-changing lives of thousands of species struggling to survive.

A tree with thick and gnarled trunk, like a huge knotted muscle, rough with slowly peeling great slabs of bark.

This tree, stretching through all the atmospheres, its top leafy tendrils play with the arcing brilliance of solar flares and create delicate designs in the passing dust.

How lucky this tree is to be where it is; all the circumstance in the universe bent towards creating the unlikely and irregular conditions spawning its birth.

Growing inwards, outwards, sideways, deeper and deeper... becoming more and more, a symbiosis of many races, and many people, no longer distinguishable from each other. No longer can we say the tree ends and the other begins.

The tree is changing,

and maybe it is this knowledge which gives it a glimpse of something more, something like a universal knowledge... maybe...

And maybe the tree knows that one day it will come crashing down,

its branches that reach across the world having aged,

its leaves, fallen,

its needles having dried,

the tree's roots will transform back to earth,

all of its parts will stop pumping the nutrients of life through the great tubular veins beneath its skin.

There will be one last blooming of flowers,

one last casting of spores,

as the tree utters its death poem and cries out through the colors and seeds in the sky.

Beautiful, it will become the garden,

Beautiful, it will die

Beautiful,

Birth

Noise Chaos Movement

Business Romance Philosophy

City Job Family

Ripples Bubbles Waves
Dive

Ocean Depth

Crystal Elixir Peace

Consciousness

Eyelid Flash Sun

Moon Ether Luminesscence

Awareness Understanding Joy

Freshness Bliss Courage

Freedom

Thought

Birth

End

Happy

Love is seeing things clearly

Joy too

Maybe sadness

Touching terrible tarantulas

Tantrums

Greed Is, Anger Is, Desire Is

Is Not

Is icing on the joy cake

Is Not needed

Is moderately tasty

Is Not health food

But I enjoy it with pure clean water,

And Thanks

Thanks

Peace

Art's like a garden-
Living decoration

A long talk
With a good friend
Or enemy

Can you translate
God's palette?
Smell, colour, taste, touch, sound
Light dark invisible

Art is creation, of course
and destruction, salvage, transformation
dispose recycle waste conserve
scream sing whisper

END

A Strange Type

On the bluff this morning
Breakfast is served
Raven circle
And make rough music

A strange type
Who sits above a busy town
Eating potatoes
Running from God

Running to God

Elephant eons parade
Down infinity road
This day is a speck of dust
Floating to oblivion

Humanity makes me think of a wheat-field
Go ahead, grow tall
But never forget the harvest
When your fruit will be tossed in with all the others'

Just another grain in God's bread

A strange type,
Who plugs poetry into ether
Talking to himself
Running from God

Running to God

On the way to Mendenhall lll

Thicker than water,

Depth from cold breath, and simple neat breadth beneath feet, and snowy steps, a frozen creek.

Crunch, scrunch,

Loud, white, words, when you are alone the world breathes with you, and your soul is airborne,

Trees, stillness, snow, stillness, moving water, stillness, physically these things are pieces of your mind, pieces of a gold mine, pieces of sublime, pieces, pieces, pieces

Pieces of a bigger picture, pieces of the simplest existence fixture, the ultimate tincture, concentrated until, expanded, exploded, up, down, around, lost and... found

re-found, by a creek and white voices that speak beneath feet, deep.