So spake simple Simon
“We look at spirit not at form
Our touch is gentle, kind and warm
We but reflect God’s love and light
‘Tis the path to which we conform” ~ Unseeking Seeker
I read the violet sparks
of untouchable lightning,
allowing the butterfly breeze
to wrap me in wet bliss,
tracing the afterglow
of compassionate consciousness,
where kindness has no motive,
where empathy holds the quill
to narrate and nurture
nature with nameless frequency,
like a tercet without a title ~
a sunset without an end,
woven with wild petals of wisdom,
for what is love without light,
what is wisdom without composure,
what is humanity without
healing hymns of the soul?
In silence, I feel your pulse,
the palpitation of profound passion,
the vibration of untamable truth,
and I remain ~ immersed in awe,
adrift in the amplitude
of absolute awareness,
of what breathes between
rising fire and water,
like an estuary that escapes
the evilness of angst
by holding the ripples of rivers
and streaming sapphires
of salt-kissed serenity…
But must I name the throb
that aches with the weight of peace?
There is no form, no label,
no letter, no ink,
no colour, no cadence
to spell what spills
from the spirit of starlight ~
when love resides on the chalice
of the third eye,
intuitively engrossed
in the essence of clarity,
unclothing the chakras
to reveal the pining purity
of faith beyond form,
as the Almighty synchronizes
the inner motif of mindfulness,
merging the mystery
of surrendered sacredness,
where ego has no home,
and manipulative monsoons
cannot erase the awakened
flame of blazing dawn…
O beloved soul searcher
seeking timeless tranquility
in sunflower stillness,
listen to the unspoken ~
you and I, we know
the scented skin
of roses and revelation,
the kingdom of unseen reality,
guarded with illuminated epiphanies,
and in muteness we muse,
transforming to an ethereal realm
where heaven is closer
than the air that touches
the holy shivers of electric scriptures,
written from the lotus aura
of an ageless utopia ~
forgive my need
for cosmic confinement,
‘Tis the path to which we conform...
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