We often take for granted
What’s familiar in our world,
Without the need to wave the flag
We rarely have unfurled.
Yet tourists sometimes help us see
How fortunate we are.
By looking through their eyes we know
How high we’ve set the bar.
I spent the day in Central Park,
New York’s most precious jewel,
Though many locals get there
Not too often, as a rule.
Our visitor from out of town,
Amazed at all the trees,
Made me recognize the beauty
Landscaped perfectly to please.
The shady walks, musicians
And the turtles in the pond,
Plus the people-watching chances
Took us to a place beyond
All the urban sights we pass each day,
Infusing them with magic.
Taking Central Park for granted
Is not very short of tragic.
Sitting in silence, heart animated,
at peace in the void, ceasing to resist,
vibrance of innocence invoked a mist,
that no longer by fickle thoughts baited,
caused pristine presence to feel elated,
which feeling tranquil with no to-do list,
then found itself by Divine Mother kissed,
infusing bliss by God’s hand created.
Fullness in emptiness as the new norm,
each breath intake representing rebirth,
metamorphosing, becoming the flame,
with throb magnetic choosing to conform,
wandering earth our soul bubbles with mirth,
radiating light scriptures cannot name.
My sleep breaks every morning when I hear
the first chatter of a couple of playful pigeon,
from their nest made outside the window near,
I know it’s time to get up, take the new day on.
My heart then seeks the morning ritual not new,
of the uplifting feeling in the brimful bone-china cup,
my wife gives me filled with the hot reviving brew,
while from the welcoming bed I listlessly lift myself up.
I enjoy the various types of tea and their progeny,
herbal, green, brown and even rousingly spicy,
get delight from the flavor sonata in the sip of glee,
as with the flight of steam the specks of sloth flee.
Gaining pure pleasure from the convivial concoction,
I see the dance of leaves stirring the elixir of the tea,
infusing the Himalayan fragrance in the elite potion,
as I taste enthralled the famous Darjeeling delicacy.
The aroma of the golden liquid awakens my sense,
and into an irresistible domestic bliss it sinks me,
turns me into an addict of its pleasure hence,
enthuses me to drink every morning a cup of tea.
caress feathery, an ethereal drill
rotating gently within, piercing our skin
infusing bliss spasms, giving our heart a thrill
tingle which does breath by breath afresh begin
the zone impacted this morn is our forehead
sprouting from the void where bliss pheromones wed
manifesting as rapture that does not end
path strewn with rose petals on which we ascend
We notice God’s disc of light above our head,
tapping us there, that we become self-aware,
infusing bliss mists by which we are now led,
that since ego-mind has nothing to declare,
love pheromones are in our heart and spine bred,
is-ness of being-ness, in the void laid bare.
It seems like stillness but is a benign storm,
where epiphanies dawn and we but conform.
GOD is Cosmo's psyche,
The Universe's Will to be,
The steering Mind of becoming in the World.
He adds Nothing,
He subtracts Nothing,
He only rearranges the existing energy into concrete forms,
Without ever disturbing the total energy balance. He is doing it
By
Infusing in each one of the forms a purpose,
A purpose that enables every single existence to be, to coexist, and to collaborate
With the rest of the forms in such a way that the outcome mirrors
God's divine plan of a harmonious, conscious, and law-abiding Creation!
Therefore,
God observes everything,
Guides everything, and
Supervises everything, no matter how big or small something is,
Since
Nothing is more or less important to God for the maintenance of Cosmic Order.
© Demetrios Trifiatis
06 April 2026
“He attains to the supreme, eternal Self, from whose essence the universe of movable and immovable objects is born, in whom it rests, and into whom it dissolves, even as foam and bubbles are born of the transformation of water.”
What’s the eye of the eye, that bestows sight,
enabling clear sight, even in our dreams,
magnetism infusing bliss delight
and the very power by which thought streams?
God is omnipresent, so does not move,
for since He’s everywhere, where can he go,
so as we dance in our preprogrammed groove,
bilocation’s the skill we need to know.
As Self transcendent, in form immanent,
we dwell in the void and also the world.
When bliss pulsation becomes permanent,
the flag of love in our heart is unfurled.
This life is a dream, which we recognise
and thus doing so, God’s light realise.
In your eyes
fire flames and ignites
embers of desire
I thought dead in coldness of
loneliness.
Loneliness
is turned inside out,
becoming the warmth
infusing love to entire
galaxies
The worship of scriptures, idols or symbols
has validity, infusing surrender,
steadying fickle heart, useful as gimbals,
till the day we feel within, soundless thunder.
The choice of path depends on inclination,
all leading to staid silence empowering,
as we then rest in all time meditation,
delighted feeling heart lotus flowering.
In timeless time we exit the cage of space,
recognising our true Self as living light,
made in God’s image, known when we see His face,
realm of boundless love, where we dance in delight.
Having been, seen and so known, the truth of Self
we must assimilate what we have imbibed,
that with no other agenda on our shelf,
we stand erect, name of God on heart inscribed.
There’s a spark in our hearts that
urges us to try,
Through storms and challenges, it
accompanies us on the ride,
Infusing our senses that there’ll be
light at dawn,
This flame never dies; it’s the flame
of Hope.
Shining bright through dark clouds
is Hope,
A force of strength in times of
despair, is Hope,
When we embrace it, we feel relief, comfort and peace,
It’s an endless whisper of joy that
will never cease.
It blooms like a flower in our hearts,
And a balm for the wounds in our
souls,
So look deep into the depths of
both heart and soul for the Spirit
of Hope,
With its endless scope, anything is
possible.
Hold firmly unto it, and never let it
go,
As it will lead you safely through
the uncertainties of the unknown.
By Zyrool
Creation is something that many have embarked to acheive
My belief is to get out of the way of trying to create while rolling up my sleeve
The next step truly has its own journey, distance yourself from thinking too deep
A great idea or creation could end up as a technique too steep
It looks amazing once I eject myself out of the anomaly's plan
Where do these ideas come from? could it be my mood or my hand
A trust needs to appear for it is all that works in a moment of creation
It will happen once all the elements bind together when it comes into fruition
I'm proud to call myself an artist with multitudes of talents
Whether I'm sad, depressed or just joyfully absent
Infusing tricks that remain tacky or cheesy has no place in my arsenal
Or should I just be and allow without a mehtod that's enforceable
Creation is the process of channelling a wave of discoveries
Marked in crystal birthing of artistic prophesies
They already exist in disjointed pieces
My job is to unearth them and assemble the
Art.
Divine Mother implants Her loving kiss
on any random node in feeble form,
infusing magnetism suffused with bliss,
imbibing which, as God’s light we transform.
With no earthy agenda on our shelf,
for tempests of life, God Himself does tame,
the music of spheres plays on by itself,
as we become the flame that bears no name.
Are we body-mind or are we vast space,
is now a question that has disappeared,
since we hold strobes of light in close embrace,
allowing ourselves to be by bliss speared.
Treading softly on earth in contentment,
we delight in what is, in wonderment.
In search of the truth,
To understand the invisibility of the cosmos,
He journeyed into the deepest parts.
He went beyond the threshold of light,
Experiencing both assimilation and infiltration by dark energy.
He consumed everything he encountered,
Forgetting that there’s a sound in silence to which the mind should be attentive.
There was a deluge of information,
But no painstaking sifting through the truth.
He became enmeshed in the horror of the unveiled.
He found himself in a world of strange theories,
Juxtaposing and infusing art, mysteries, and truth.
He travelled this path,
Colonised by the tendrils of what he had absorbed.
Until one day in a dream,
He met a sage who advised him to search the scriptures,
Going beyond the words to seek the embodiment of its light.
February 9, 2025.
THE CAULDRON
As I slipped into the tub to bathe
I then realised that it was a cauldron
Fire making the water swirl around
But not as it had first appeared to me
As it seeped into my skin and tingled
I knew that I was in a magical liquid
A rising mist infusing me with images
That began to take over my thoughts
I was no longer who I had been before
Someone, or something, not belonging
Yet here in my nakedness I was extant
Imbued with a different focus on life
Maybe never return to my former self
Nor think in that single plane again
But across all dimensions, now aware
Such that stepping from this cauldron
I would see everything in a new light
The impact of magic felt and was, real
So all look upon me now and despair
I belong in all the various worlds I see
With no further need of physical form
I am who I am, and who I need to be
Never have I ever felt something
That I could not live with out
From the very first time I glanced at you
I never had a doubt
Its not just a craving
Its something deep inside
When my world crashed into yours
We were always meant to collide
What began as a Super Nova
Turned into this Black Hole
With no chance of ever escaping
Something we could not control
No light can escape
Spinning millions of miles an hour
Shredding my world to pieces
Every part of me devoured
Both our worlds becoming one
Infusing us both together
Gravity was the reason
We are now bonded forever
You see, you are my world
My life was always destined for
A sun burning in Eternal darkness
The center of my Universe
You are my Inner Core
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