Enlivened Poems | Examples

Zen mode

quiescent heart and vibrant spirit 
enlivened by bliss beats commingle
manifests within delightful surprises 
ushered when pheromones mingle

Fullness in emptiness

To evade the fangs of fate,
if we choose to meditate,
the doer as yet present,
we imbibe not love’s bliss scent.

Our feeble form we hold dear,
becoming the cause of fear,
which in turn is fed by thought,
a vortex in which soul’s caught.

As a witness to ourself,
watching life flow by itself,
we stand at the river’s bank,
heart enlivened, our mind blank.

Our emptiness is then filled
with bliss mists, by grace instilled,
if we be childlike and pure,
mood playful and heart demure.

Thoughts at rest, poised in repose,
as we so metamorphose,
in timeless time ego falls,
blown like a leaf in bliss squalls.

Ego dies, we yet remain,
as light of Self, free from stain,
in a realm beyond space-time,
with no mountains left to climb.

Sutra 14 from The Holy Science

“Purusha is covered by five koshas or sheaths.”
~ extract from ‘The Holy Science’


Forged from the elements, our form is dust,
enlivened by spirit, the breath of God,
layered by our lower and higher mind,
with bliss manifesting when heart has thawed.

Safely encased in these sheaths, is the Self,
which is who we are, a divine God-spark
and when the five sheaths dissolve one by one,
shining as Self, we then banish the dark.

Two Lines, Waiting

Pencil strokes blacken the page
Crowds blur out around the scene 
White leaf enlivened by sword and magic
Heroes journey through the frames
Worlds arise from fingertips
Ink spill out as though blood

Ink can't stain a wounded art
Fingers mar those black-lined strokes
Frames a prison from the crowd
Thoughts withheld remain white
Magic blur out from the scenes
Parchment smudged in pencil dust

Warping the Mirror Inside Out

Last night I drifted between dreams.
The dawn was too weak to keep me awake.
I closed my eyes with intention—
to step back through the curtain.

The dream re-opened lucid,
not as I had left it then,
but as I wanted it to be.
I warped the path of the flowing stream.
Its waters following my lead.

I called to the spirits,
the half-seen and half-forgotten,
and they came in up close.
They hummed their mantras,
their eyes enlivened with flame.

Their fire did not burn.
It melted old dregs away;
things I had clung to.
Renewal rose through my chest,
bright and oddly burden free

I pressed through the ashes.
Sought not to awaken but to reshape—
To change what was fixed.
The dream became pliable.
A soft-clay under my breath.

I felt doubt and concern as,
I opened the door, entered the space,
feet bare on the floor.
Each corridor was pliant for me—
the walls redrew with each sleepy sigh.

When morning awoke and returned,
the dream’s pulse still beat in me.
As my eyes opened, I knew,
that we can rearrange whorls,
when sleep and waking coalesce.

The Early Morning

The Early Morning

 …… is an inspired artist
with a palette of celestial colours;
its paintbrush, brilliant sunlight.

I sit in the hub of the garden
absorbed as the sun clambers skywards,
chased by several scribbled-inked birds.
Sunrise now reaches out to anoint my house,
daubing vibrant light that glistens like gemstones
on windows, downpipes and lazed, garden furniture. 
Even the washing line blinks in the morning glory
while casually tossing shadows of clothing 
onto the faded backdrop of a lifeless fence.

Slowly, the morning’s lungs breathe out
and shirt, jumper, socks and trousers
start to shadow dance across the enlivened screen.
Then plants freckle themselves onto the slatted stage,
a neighbourly, mop-headed flower peeks curiously over
while an aged, garden spade stirs from its earthy reverie.
They all want to connect to the merriment,
parading in this slapstick, fashion-lit show
while the garden fence just creaks with laughter.

Thought of the day

peep in heart for a sneak peek 
in lake of love dip soul’s beak
enlivened thus, then return
as God’s light in body urn

So spake simple Simon

Shaped from earth’s crust, we are but dust,
yet our pulse mirrors God’s heartbeat,
enlivened by magnetic heat,
borne by His breath, loving and just.
Why then succumb to thrust of lust,
fleeting cravings doomed to deplete,
leaving us feeling incomplete,
love of God unable to trust?

Know that we are spirit not form.
Thoughts orbit cravings of ego,
which ebbs off when desires recede.
Staid silence invokes a bliss storm,
when who we are we get to know.
The path is simple: reduce speed.

Recognition

Each body cell is a part of our form
and has no independent existence,
enlivened by heart wherefrom flows blood warm,
health ensured if there be no resistance.

The universe is the body of God
and all that’s manifest, is breathed by Him,
wherein simply by giving love our nod,
rapture rises as our soul sings a hymn.

We are the drop and we are the ocean
but to become the whole, we must let go,
slowing down thought flow, gentling commotion,
that truth of our true Self we get to know.

Know that as we each fulfil our life role,
we are inseparable from the whole.

Swing Swung by Wily Wind

we
met for
no reason
in lonely park
where we happened to
be, both there at the same,
time for no real reason,
just an accident really,
that happenstance yen-ed to sublime.
we both heard the empty swing grind a creak
as wind swung it to and fro, to and fro,
we spoke gently about the pathos
of the scene, swing parked empty,
echoing the joyous laughs
of kids at play with creaks
of cold rusty chains,
enlivened by
the puffs of
wily
wind

The prismatic self

“let’s ink the void with soul’s emote ~
at peace within in God’s bliss boat”
            ~ quote by poet


In heaven’s womb, during deep sleep,
soul poised for a consciousness leap,
shallow breath synced with God’s heartbeat,
we fearlessly swim in the deep.

Come the morn our heart is upbeat,
enlivened by magnetic heat,
being benedictions of grace,
stardust collected from God’s feet.

Staid stillness determines our pace,
mood and mode release and embrace,
mirroring the light of our soul,
which illumines vastness of space.

Love in love with love has no goal,
save by melding making hearts whole,
which then is the cause why we write,
fulfilling thus our ordained role.

To portray spiritual sight,
as words dancing in black and white,
penning a melodious verse,
needs no less than spherical sight.

There’s no cause for us to rehearse,
soft musings of the universe,
felt by heart, translated by mind,
for the better or for the worse.

With vibrations of God aligned, 
we are led by scent of love blind,
an outpost to fulfil His will,
hoping soul’s light each of us find.

walk the talk

Recognising this form is dust,
an urn shaped from Mother Earth’s crust,
enlivened by the touch of God,
we feel each heartbeat as love’s thrust.

To get to the source, heart is thawed,
that thus by giving love our nod,
in stillness we get to the source,
gentling touch, as conscience does prod.

As life then charters its own course,
soul ascends without use of force,
revealing that life’s but a dream,
where we repay debts through remorse.

Ego spawns desires, then thoughts stream,
pursuing which, we let off steam
but come what may, we’re doomed to fail,
because things are not what they seem.

The code of love is penned in braille,
that even the blind may set sail,
going way beyond time and space,
where dark fears no longer assail.

One with oneness, invoking grace,
steps towards heaven we retrace,
by our soul’s choice to vaporise,
that lower mind we thus deface.

Wonderstruck each morn at sunrise,
witnessing each breath in surprise,
clear light dawns, even as we yawn,
whence transformed as light, ego dies.

slow motion awakening

Feeling our fontanel pulsate,
enlivened by the pulse of bliss,
there then remains nothing to do,
save in childlike delight to wait,
awestruck as polarities kiss,
betwixt light strobes that so renew.

There is nothing to be divined,
since we have become the bliss flame,
positioned outside space and time,
all nodes of form, divine aligned,
fulfilling in part, our soul’s aim,
as we thus do heavenward climb.

One with oneness, we are the flow,
that transmutes soul in stillness slow.

Zen mode

subtle bliss tingles in toroidal heart
personify is-ness of our being
enlivened spine holds erect energies
the disc of grace at fontanel rotates
steadying thereby our third eye’s blink rate

soles of feet and palms glisten as light dawns
cool heat pervades every cell of our form
though we’re void-centric we cannot deny
heightened delight as our soul so blossoms
being both immanent and transcendent

subtle scents

with transient identity having been forgot 
we embrace life, the shape shifting chameleon
enlivened by bliss magnetism, in vibrance we jive
resolving all paradoxes in the cave of our heart
etching fragrance of our soul in the vast void

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