Long Unchanging Poems
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Lasting just a moment.
Lost forever without a sound.
A forever sigh,a hedonistic cry,
sunshine’s caress has departed too soon.
Too soon I am bedecked
in autumn’s bloom.
Oceans of calm,so mellow
my tears dry on the breeze
the yellow red fades in the remains of the day.
Only reserve holds love at arm’s length,
for submission leans on strength.
Love is indeed a treasured possession
e’en though.beauty grows old
and virtues seemingly dissolve,
love stays unchanging,
bubbles away in gestures of trust.
Held close,love still sets the emotions free,
still brings forth captivation.
Yes I still love her,who loves me
Mother,
I am your mirror of silvery look
Your reflection speaks of me,
Though you grow old as winter
I grow as the kindling spring.
If I grow as a flower
So bright in your garden
you are the colours of my petals
your image so true in me!
You are my river
Boundless in love
flowing with my feet
Wherever I move.
So many oceans you are!
It is an ocean in your eyes
yet another in your heart
Flooded with rain of love.
Unchanging like the sun
Unveil light of love in every turn,
Smiles are waves on your lips
Though pained like tree in snow.
Tangle my hair in your soft palm
like breeze of spring,
you are thoughtful like the bird
sitting alone in your garden of love
Craft a song in undying words
Reach to us quickly fading grief.
You are indeed my worlds
Round off to all loveliness I dream,
You are the unforgotten letters
Of all my startling secrets.
Composed and copy right by Rajendra K. Padhi.
Form:
When I first learned of heaven
and heard that it would be forever
I was merely a child.
But I had a pretty active imagination,
so I wondered -
wouldn't it get boring?
In eternity,
after billions upon billions of years,
wouldn't you grow tired of having spoken
with every soul that ever existed
a thousand times over?
Wouldn't you get tired of playing games
that you've played in every possible combination?
Wouldn't you face a growing horror
at the thought of stagnation without reprieve?
I voiced the concern, but, ultimately, I tucked it away.
Perhaps I trusted God.
Perhaps I was afraid to dig deeper.
A possible solution in reason arose years later ...
if heaven is beyond time,
it may be a single, glorious instance.
Unchanging, perfect, utter joy.
That sounded plausible enough.
But another answer came to me
after twenty seven years of life
a late morning or early afternoon on April 25th
if I remember right
as I walked into seventy-something degree weather
around Greenway 5.
You see,
being in love as I was,
I was finding that each poem, song, and work of art
was inspiring many other works
and I realized
I'd never have time to capture them all
because there would always be more,
always be new ways to express my love
and my newfound joy of existence itself.
So no longer do I fear boredom.
I look forward to an endless praising,
an ever-evolving song of love for an infinite creator.
For I now believe that love itself is infinite,
and will always find new ways to express itself to its beloved.
Kind of obvious in hindsight, I suppose,
but so many simple truths are ...
29 April 2023
Eyes of the ancients, wise and unchanging,
Silken strands fall and flow upon the warmth of the thriving lines of youth.
The warmth of life and love abounding an soaring with the four winds,
And the remembrance of old wounds healed but not forgotten,
For the heart hides all from the world, though one may still see within.
Emotions and memories untamed, burning passions and desires take flight beyond the heavens,
Though the soul remains unyielding, unwaning, caught in the trap of time and yet immortality.
A childs laughter breaks the darkness and the world awakens to the beating of a yearning heart,
And the future is laid before you without hinderance, caught up in the wild abandonment of your fear.
Earthly shackles are thus loosed from a loving hopeful spirit; that of which no man or God holds sway.
For your soul is that of the untamed, restless essence of shalott and aphrodite, endless as the burning depths of the sun,
Though this heart be tender, she is not scathed or tormented by the demons of her yesteryears; they are crushed beneath her silhouette,
To find love and hold on until death; unto the childs smile she remains steadfast; she is an ancient goddess of the world unknown,
You, who are without need of mortal man, that you may find your joy within the grasp of the time laid before you,
You, who were, are still, and will remain the rock, the lover, friend, mother, daughter, without ceasing and abounding in love as vast as the sea,
And shall be forever beneath the stars dwelling among humanity until the end of time.
Dad,
how old were you when you first tried THC?
It was not until my freshperson year
at the University of Michigan
when you could not go from one end of any dorm
to the other
without inhaling that not really oregano oily fragrance.
Why were you such a late bloomer?
As I recall,
back in premillennial times
those who were high school pot heads
were recognized by all,
including themselves,
as destined for malodorous lifetime outcomes,
if not outright sociopaths
then at least hopeless malcontents
and scofflaws
without civil redeeming value.
Really?
So how did all that play out?
We were correct
in these pessimistic predictions
at least in large part.
You don't sound surprised,
as I so hoped you might.
Only because
those of us who waited
until we had high school graduation credentials in hand
fared about the same unremarkable neither better or worse,
certainly not rewriters of history
as far as I ever heard.
And,
although I might well be mistaken,
those who self-promote
as never having inhaled
either sooner or even much too later,
have outcomes possibly least happy of all,
except for those who also
have not found enough real food to eat
or too much booze to drink in one remorseful night.
Interesting.
I hope that is a population of zero
in my postmillennial era.
Watch out for those who deny evolution as evil.
They are those least likely to learn
from our mistakes,
thereby proving the foolishness
of their own anti-evolving theories
about traditional unchanging consciousness
and humane nature
and EarthMother's sacred spirits,
inhaling to exhale,
reweaving nature out with nurture in.
With training your mind will go and stay
Wherever you want it to.
Where you put your attention
Your mind will go.
What you put in your mind
Will eventually fill it.
So begin by aiming it where you want it.
But be careful what you wish for,
And what you gather,
Because that is what you’ll get.
Since there are more of others
Than there is of yourself,
And since everyone suffers
Put your mind on other’s suffering
To keep your own in perspective.
The rule with suffering is it can always get worse.
But suffering is also only temporary.
Like everything, it too shall pass.
Yet suffering can also become unbearable
When it is all that fills your mind,
So be careful what you focus on
Because that is what will fill it.
By focusing on others one’s own situation
Gets smaller and softer.
Others, after all, are both vast
And a little mysterious, unlike ourselves
Which we can make very tight and knowable.
There are many methods to focus on others,
As many as the stars, and as easy as simply
Exchanging them for us
With each in and out of every breath.
With practice it becomes natural
And its benefits spill over into your world.
The mind after all fills with what you put in it.
With less self centeredness
Our center literally loosens and opens.
What was a single solar system
Becomes a star cluster, then a galaxy
And eventually a whole Universe, teeming
With myriad galaxies as vast as space.
Space which by nature is open and infinite.
The beauty of compassion for others
With its concern for causes and conditions
Is it leads to awareness of spaciousness,
Which is without cause and condition.
What is unconditioned is unchanging
Birthless and deathless, our true basic nature
And a reliable ground to put our faith in.
The beauty of the mind is it will go
Where you aim it,
And it will fill with what you find there.
(9/24/26)
We live in the shade of the wood
That’s called the Ancient Wildren.
It’s been there since creation.
We are it’s Chosen Children.
Strangers have arrived and
Our prospects are not good,
They are bringing in machines
To destroy our Wildren Wood.
A sense of horror hangs
As though floating in the air.
You can almost feel and touch
The of sorrow and despair.
The Wildren shows no sign
That’s it’s aware of its fate,
Unchanging and unknowing it
Just seemed to stand and wait..
The great machines advanced
In the bright morning light
As we waited with tears,
Sadly anticipated the sight
Of a forest of dead stumps
As slowly, one by one
The destruction progressed
Until every tree was gone.
The wood howled with anger
And without any sign of pity
Destroyed each machine
And person from the city.
With the coming of the dark
There was nothing left in sight
To show there had been
A ruthless survival fight
Not a single tree fell though
Many bore the scars,
The only evidence to show
That they d been in the wars.
Every machine gone as though
Being absorbed by the ground,
No evidence they’d existed,
Was anywhere to be found.
We still hunt in it’s fringes
Wondering if and when
The strangers from the city
Will dare return to try again.
Wildren Wood stands and waits,
Allows us to cautiously enter,
And sometimes we hear
Loud howls from its centre.
It’s been there since creation.
It’s called the Ancient Wildren.
We still live in its shade for
We are it’s Chosen Children.
As though it was born free only to eat,
The soft caterpillar keeps on its work--
Just to turn and finish the leaves neat;
And on it goes unchanging,all in the lurk
Till begins the self centred walling in plot;
A soft, round globule comes up wrought
Only to be boiled and disrupted to fraught
The potter wasp has flights great many,
To the clay and water pits far and near
As is chosen the safe nook or slot puny
With all vigour, labour and concern dear,
The little bit sticks to the select spot fast,
That the set purpose resolves till the last,
And greed does not breed a monster ghast
That’s the question, isn’t it, ‘Who am I?’
The screen of awareness is unchanging
although sometimes we smile and sometimes sigh,
winning and losing, roles interchanging.
That that comes and goes being unreal,
all life events are played out in space-time,
where moments when we feel full bliss appeal
are when we surrender, feeling love’s chime.
Looking beyond organic form we see
that we’re soul eternal, we’re living light,
one with the universe and always free,
being the bliss flame itself, burning bright.
We are both the part as also the whole
of God’s essence playing our earth life role.
27-September-2022
Eye sick
whole body aches
hand kills
Heart of Jesus
bleeds
wounded by
wolves
tearing humanity
drunken on heresy
blasphemy
self destroying
conceit
Spirit of truth
shut out
conscience
distorted by pride
rationalizing
boredom of sin
with more sin
unchanging slavery
to lust and greed
mud carrying spring
unreflecting God's image
sickening body
of those who drink
weighing soul down
to sleep
smudging eye lenses
not to see
midnight sun error
God's love light
splendor
guiding
to Paradise
of joy
and peace eternal
Jesus
Blood in veins
of Christian Body
wall of faith
hope and charity
joy of heart
crystal clear water
cleansing soul to sparkle
illuminating path
of lovers of truth
Omnipotent
Omniscient Triune God
with Father and
Holy Ghost as one
may every knee on earth
bent in adoration
to Thy Majesty
and Thy holy name
be praised by every
lips and heart
and Thy kingdom of love
come
on earth soon.