Bare basalt bore no banner on its face,
Yet lichen kept the oldest song of rain;
The cliff received no chronicle of grace.
No cedar dreamt the patience born of stone;
A hidden fissure gathered gifts of rain,
Till silence made the heart of granite known.
No moss proclaimed dominion over shale;
It gentled hardness by the law of rain,
Till mountains learnt the meekness of the frail.
Then yesterday gave birth to one green leaf;
The hidden seasons kept their tryst with rain,
And time unveiled the provenance of leaf.
The fern arose where none had granted birth;
The dew restored the first bequest of rain,
Till forests claimed their ancient right on earth.
I left the valley poorer only thus:
The least beginnings outlive loud acclaim;
Stone learnt that quiet is the root of us.
Hovering at the cusp of thought,
before the stream begins to gush,
negating tidings it has brought,
in staid silence, we hush its blush.
Intent simmers in the background,
for the moment gentled and tamed
but resisting to remain bound,
it returns disguised and renamed.
Silence may sparkle when we’re still,
yet what’s a dream but a thought stream,
where we are worse off, stripped of will?
Let our cup of joy overspill,
bliss drenched soul atop love’s moonbeam,
sipping bliss nectar to heart’s fill.
Written: December 30, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Hilo Poet
***********
You tilt the world and hush its frantic spin;
a gentled light that settles in my skin.
You foster my slashed heart, seek fairness,
To soar above conundrum awareness.
Your gaze revamps my lackluster day;
lifts the veil, beckons beyond radiant way.
A spark draws the drab embers to flame;
your composure spurred me to fame.
The Entry-A
let heart’s intent simmer awhile
gentled in effulgence of love
magnetised in cauldron of bliss
that when thus readied for action
soul senses Divine Mother’s kiss
“As God’s spark ensouling organic form, I am that presence which cannot be named,
felt within as a magnetic bliss storm, divine pulsation that cannot be tamed,
gentled by His touch, within body framed.
I am that which transcends both space & time. I am love & light, causing heart to chime.”
I AM GOD'S SPARK
A windswept soul cognitive only to the One who clips the stars of heaven
this I am
An enlightened being spiritually awakened by the interconnectedness of all living things
this I am
Dwelling in a place filled with heightened sense of presence, I am peaceful
as the Great I Am
Ablaze like an Olympian Flame I pass life's torch to you with internal conviction
and this is my reveal of who I truly am
I am a woman made of man a mystery onto thyself, I live, breathe and love
and therefore yes, ... I am !!!
The war refuses the head, below wasting in dead
Rearing the front as storms fell the timbers rot
Upheavals breast, shorn and filled in neglect
Lay useless she had cried, allow dimple and deny
Tis only folly we are joined from, seasons blurry
Contemptuous fury, theatrical brevity, lifeless
Burning misery, hasn’t all gone and come
Just so fiddle and spun, as garnish and lathe
Without soured breads fortune, and curled ears late
Forever they attend, a hearts creative bend
And rule they must, alas at lose in unbreakable crust
He in hand created this land, in tales of ferried rows
Gentled slave we musn’t hate, crucible’s labors as knave
In there buildings, craving and fighting, loud and obscene
Fruitful as flies, multiplying night skies
Crying babes of violence, unruly and brutal
Off again we should shout as they, steam filled hovels in suet
Eye
of our
soul opens,
in slow motion,
caressed by petals
of heart lotus blooming,
whereupon we clearly sense
the presence of God within us,
as a globe of golden living light,
wherein we dissolve cravings of ego.
Fire of the sun gentled by the moonlight,
entwine within form, birthing cool heat,
gripping heart in heightened rapture,
with all nodes joining the dance,
renewing breath by breath,
wherein thus transfixed,
we so transmute,
guided by
hand of
God.
I felt unwelcome in our home,
a crowded place where I was alone.
So, I went out into the cold,
wandering out to take a look,
and settling on a stony crook
in the pathway of a brook
where clear water rolled.
Shafts of light shown through the trees
which gentled rustled in the breeze,
and it struck me kind of funny -
from tree to tree there grew a vine,
and on it, an ant trail formed a line,
no longer alone, I felt fine.
It was winter cold, but sunny.
Has our touch gentled,
holding all in warm embrace
and of lust and rage no trace?
Dreams dreamt resurface
and although the past is past,
the haunting yet continues.
impacted by a verbal assault
although we rebounded soon
the incident made us reflect
on cause why we did so swoon
stuporous is our awareness
driven mostly by instinct
we react as of our ego nature
our heart with God not linked
until our response is gentled
in an unbroken continuum
we remain to our ego captive
which contains feral residuum
As
silence
gentled mind
way past midnight,
bliss magnetism rose
gripping heart in delight
and as I sat transfixed thus,
I was wonderstruck to behold
God’s presence, visible in clear sight;
bright, soft white light, radiating kindness.
He took my hand and counselled me gently,
whilst at the same time erasing sin,
being misdeeds of my dark past
and wishing me well in life,
bestowing His blessings,
as Father to son;
which I imbibed,
grateful for
touch of
love.
The voice is mine and yet not,
I have nurtured it, both goaded,
and placated it,
until its tongue is as liquid as molten
silver.
It is not human, never was.
It came to me as a stray dog would,
though it is more a bird than canine,
for it will fly up into my throat.
without any help from my mind.
Perhaps it is that fabled muse,
yet it is also,
a hag and a crone,
sometimes a sweet-faced harlot.
I cannot count its many faces.
It is a male wolf, a stag in the wilderness,
its call is a summons for my ghost to speak,
to feast upon the vapor
of a blood script.
Gentled am I, made meek and mild,
A mute angel roams my earth,
it hunts for white doves.
The captured birds are taught
to mark scratches upon a plasmid velum,
symbols that utter the un-utterable.
I have this strange-strangers voice,
I have a hollow stem
that rises up to pierce a deep inward sky,
what it will say next, what it has now said,
and what I am now,
only the voice knows.
we notice gentled response
coming through in dream forms
love as compassion pure and pristine
spontaneously embracing and releasing
forms that appear in our sphere of awareness
within waking state walking with a mindful eye
sentient to the here and now continuum renewing
neither looking back with regret nor ahead with hope
vibrant presence radiating a blissful effervescence
treads gently on earth leaving behind no residue
from time to time and from moment to moment
we notice how life impulsed poses questions
in the human experience we may oscillate
just as we judge not others, we smile
as we so learn breath by breath
having come of age in the womb of space
there being here no more puzzles to lace
bereft of thought crutch, having gentled touch
our soul takes permission to leave this hutch
that light both immanent and transcendent
may bilocate, becoming independent
root to sacral
navel to heart
instincts gentled
in the cauldron of love
pauses for eternity
grace inpours
from the fontanel
igniting the head ovoid
flowing along the throat
suffusing heart with bliss
the feral and ethereal
entwined transmutes dust
the ego that never was disappears
and our true Self shines forth
blurring all boundaries
here now in slow motion
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