Ottava Poems - Poems about Ottava

God is the witness of every cognition, being prior to spontaneous intent, source of each and every life pulse transmission, magic that causes heart to grant love consent, potent breath sublime, a ceaseless emission, steadying life forms through descent and ascent. Though mind cannot know God yet we can become, one with oneness as the sublime cosmic hum....

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Thought precedes action, intent comes yet before, arising from murmurs of a restless soul, feeling incomplete, though each pore is a door, to imbibe agape love, that heart may feel whole, yet foiled by ego that always keeps a score, so negating God’s light, we make do with dole. He who wishes to ascend does not exist; When the false falls, we...

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With eyes for no other, seeking God alone, viewing material desires as mundane, in mindfulness our consciousness as we hone, befriending silence, we shed off ego’s chain, purifying our heart, the way we atone, that this gift of life bestowed be not in vain. Moment by moment thus steadying resolve, divine entwined, in timeless time we evolve....

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chakras enable, blockages disable each fear we nurture represents a blockage nonchalant eye makes our consciousness stable renouncing wealth, lust, power and feral rage no earth agenda remains on our table then ego recedes and our soul comes of age kundalini zooms through the central tunnel and grace in-pours from the very same funnel...

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In the sacred sacrificial fire we burn, first and foremost all the objects we desire, purifying thoughts flowing in body urn, consigning doership to the funeral pyre, that thus in silence watching nodes within churn, there are no earth bound goals for which we aspire, whereupon in this way we become the flame, fulfilling in staid mindfulness our life’s aim....

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Subrosa tears dropped into that refrain, it's a soft melancholy you could miss. There is no desire to ever explain the fragile emotions within a kiss. You lie awake releasing hidden pain, creating with the Muse your accomplice. A project for insomniac moments, that harsh fog within poetic laments....

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The golden egg, womb of the universe, has at its zenith, heaven we all seek but reaching it, is the blessing a curse, that although we dance with bliss cheek to cheek, it’s yet dual to which our heart’s averse subject to both death and energy leak? Beyond the manifest, there is but Self, God’s light renewing itself in itself....

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Knowing not who in truth we are, death is feared, since we are attached to this decaying form, so we are through life by myriad fears speared, with God’s law of love unable to conform. Surrendering will, we are by God’s hand steered, stripped of attributes, yet feeling His love warm. In a realm outside space-time, we yet exist, living light eternal,...

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nodes awaken of which we were not aware which matters not now though it once was the case so as soul’s light within surfaces for air we delight in mood of release and embrace limitless since now with the vast void we pair left with no earth bound desires we need to chase yet beholding in surprise magnetism rise the fragrance divine...

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When we say, ‘I am’, our hand goes to the heart, signalling it represents seat of our soul, which drenched in God’s love deems no one as apart. To open the heart is our very first goal, without which in truth soul’s life quest cannot start but the problem is, ego is in control and so animal instincts as yet...

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THE WORLD IS BLEEDING I suspect no tourniquet will help it now With the jugular of the world being cut And a loss of blood as our time will allow It needs rapid surgery, and nothing but We are way beyond taking our final bow The door to recovery is now slammed shut As a scared cow at the slaughterhouse, it seems Is...

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Bereft of attributes, Self is living light, which is our true being, shaped as God Himself, in a realm outside space-time, where we shine bright and so recognising this as our true Self, we weave our way through life in drunken delight, knowing what’s impulsed will unfold by itself. God dwells in the Self and Self dwells in the heart, which is...

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The earth, the population's burden's beast - we take its flesh, its skin, and blood and bones. We fight for its spoils. Terror is unleashed. We have graduated from throwing stones - mankind, once a hope, soon to be deceased. Can you hear the hot, fevered beast's last moans? Beneath our planet's provident blue sky, we'll kill...

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Let us look for that which does not come and go, erect without support, so self-existent, that truth of the noumena we get to know, for which we first rest thought spirals insistent, that we transcend lower mind in stillness slow, discovering light of Self, bliss resplendent. As awareness self-aware, outside space-time, renewal continual marks our heart’s chime....

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Feeling, not thinking, awareness unblinking, imagining God as the cosmic gong Om, in tranquil silence, our head with heart linking, we are in bliss mists drenched, wherever we roam, emotes in praise of God, in the void inking, at peace in our heart’s cave, which is our true home. Silent bliss thunder rises from deep under, imbibed by our presence in childlike...

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