Dawn creeps above the dark horizon.
Am I locked in a hazy dream?
An icy chill grips my whole body,
My legs falter in their purpose,
Can I turn back? Can I delete
This horrendous nightmarish dream?
And then, as suddenly as it all began
I see a single moonlight ray
That filtered through the trees above.
The rivers beckon still, but you are here
And sobbing, I fall into your most tender arms.
Your fragrant perfume is like honeydew,
Like a scented breeze that permeates my breath,
Saturating my lost mad soul with sanity.
Suddenly, a warm dulcet haze enveloped me.
Slowly, slowly I turn back,
Slowly, I re-enter my cold bed,
And all my nightmares are dispersed.
At last, I rest in peace.
How I used to be
Is now old news to me
If I said observation is the only way
Someone should ask did I observe the universe today
Or am I able to observe the observing of all things?
Particulars and universals will never exchange rings
If I said life is meaningless
Someone should ask does that statement have meaning?
If so I need to do some intellectual cleaning
I have toys in the attic
My thinking has become static
That is problematic
If I said there is no absolute truth
Someone should ask is that absolutely true?
I should become a sleuth
Or at least a tailor to mend something borrowed
with something blue,
and something old with something new
You can't put new wine in an old wine skin
You can't re-enter the womb to be born again
Pointing the way by Ithuriel's sword
Reanimating you by God's [S]Word
So truly the truth will set you free
If God will grant it to thee
While He is yet near.....seek
As the Holy Spirit does quietly speak
Twists and Turns..
The story finds
Already This
Appearing as that..
Amazing..but
Me may re-enter
Jump on stage
Desperate to find
Unfindable This..
The saving grace:
Desperation too is
Already This...??
We sit in our little houses.
Consumed in our little lives.
Proud of our advances.
Scared of our lies.
We ponder on the living of our very lives.
We wonder what’s the meaning of the stars in the skies.
We sit in our little house and see the clouds passing by.
We wonder what of the logic of the truth and the lie.
We forcibly place our fears to the back of our minds.
To survive the new day waiting in the cycle of our lives.
We get up and see a new face reflected in front of our eyes.
We wonder why.
All the years tracked in the face we now try to disguise.
The salad days of our youth, they’ve withered and they’ve died.
Look deep into the eyes.
Sit in your house and convince yourself of your lies.
But hey, we have to survive!
We sit in our little houses.
In the winter of our lives.
Consumed by the guilt of broken promises and lies.
To confess all the years now disappeared under time’s darkening skies.
All the tears we’ve caused to the loves of our lives.
Stored in the back of our minds, knocking on the door to re-enter our lives.
We sit in our little houses…
We sit in our little houses…
consumed in our little lives.
Spatial wanderings, an assembly of yogis and meditators
they breathe as silently as the moon when it taps out
her morse code then quiets into position.
Watching the stars as they shape into view
they become as connected as the constellation, dot to dot they thrive,
recognizing one another by the quizzical movements of each soul.
Illumined by aerial thoughts they become cloaks of light
streaming down a rite of passage as unique as their un-cloned,
celestial bodies.
Layer upon layer of awareness and enlightenment
we sediments of earth are nothing more than flimsy kites in the wind.
After we have closed eyes and filled our hungry hearts, we are ready
to re-enter and live inside this malleable encrusted place
we call earth.
December 4, 2022
Emerge from darkness into light
Then re-enter the void
Oscillate thus through day and night
Each moment, by love buoyed
With balance and rhythm
Leaving within no chasm
Harmonise body prism
Submerge
Emerge
29-April-2022
Quietus
I released a shout.
Which I hoped would get out.
Of this barred window.
I feel as alone as a widow.
I feel the presence of strangers.
Who led me toward dangers.
Is that a needle or a dagger?
I will take either- it doesn’t matter!
As long as this sacrifice.
Will lead to my mom’s advice.
So I can re-enter my own home.
And escape this electric dome.
Inner space, outer space, yin and yang together
Sea is its own cosmos linked to the vast invisible ocean
around us. The hydrogen in its water molecules was made
in the Big Bang, oxygen in them was made in a star
a marriage made in heaven
The Mariana Trench in the Pacific Ocean (deepest location on Earth)
The Summit of Chimborazo, (farthest from the Earth's center)
There is a strong connection between ocean and space. Both in terms of technology and spirit discovery. At 100,000 feet, Voyagers will see the black of space, the atmosphere below, and the curvature of the earth
Deep space and deep ocean linked like bookends. With Technology we
can now breathe both water and vacuum and observe details that were
previously hidden from our view ;
It is our good fortune to be born in an age of open doors to the sea
and to spatial hemispheres
So nice to be able to re- enter into the elements in which we were born
both water and space
Nicodemus came to Jesus by night:
“To be born again, it doesn't seem right.
To re-enter the womb
new life to assume;
my story once more I'd have to rewrite.”
Jesus replied, “Now truly I speak it:
not of flesh but reborn in the spirit,
so the wind will take you
on paths fresh to pursue.
God will give you new life to inherit."
John 3.1-10
Novice shadows cross a molten Moon
Just to discover the rising Sun.
Varying hues of burgundy soon
Emerge and layer patterns that stun.
Marbled marquise clusters of low light,
Bejeweled stars ever fade away,
Evanescent, ethereal sight
Receding in the bright light of day.
Thanksgiving the holiday that marks
Harvest’s end with bountiful blessing.
Reverently thank God with remarks
inviting His goodness expressing.
Life is sustained throughout harsh Winter.
Long nights await Spring to re-enter.
Leisure:
Like retirement,
a feeling
achieved through patient paths
of health
and safety.
Pleasure:
A similar feeling
achieved through polypaths
of healthiest wealth
and risky win/win opportunities,
more actively curious
than passively patient.
Resiliently resonant,
leisurely pleasured
sensory awareness
we can no more be
with the same person,
in the same place,
at the same time, twice
Than we can re-enter
the same river twice.
Baptismal pleasure
is less about one time immersion
than full time rapture.
The heart is a lonely stranger
found in the darkest void from a life shattered
to endlessly wander until the pain has bled all its blood
upon the floor of the mind
to leave a stain etched in growing mold
that has rotted away the final pound of flesh
in a wilderness of expectations
where anguished sounds echo from the illusions
of its own making
Where light will never enter
until the heart beckons forgiveness
for its own sake
to re-enter the world again newborn
2/22/20
When I was seven I found out
that there would be no parachutes after re-entry.
We would reach Mars
or perhaps only Earth's Moon
depending on the direction and thrust.
We would conduct our experiments
finish some work previous scientists had left
train the new ones
and then we would head home.
We would re-enter Earth's atmosphere as planned
but there would be no parachutes
no gentle descent to the Sea Kings.
There wouldn't be any more missions.
This one had to matter.
At seven I was excited for the trip
and I'm excited again.
HOUSE ON FIRE
If house catches fire,
on instant reflex action, I will call Fire Brigade and make hurry
to leave the house firstly taking my credit card
as money is mandatory.
Secondly, I will pick up sharp my passport.
Thirdly I will grasp my mobile phone.
Next to collect regular medicines as important as diet.
Then, second set of specs, I need most.
Sixth choice demands few dresses in a small bag.
Last but not the least to carry vanity bag containing
eye-brow pencil, comb and house-key
with a hope to re-enter the house,
when fire will be under control,
if Fire Brigade be able to play perfect role.
02/23/19
'Seven Things You Would save If Your House Was On Fire'
Contest by Caren Krutsinger
Note. Twenty five years back, suddenly I noticed forest fire in vast field full of dry plants and shrubs just few yards away in front of my house. Only me and my minor daughter were in the house. Immediately I called Fire Brigade and left the house holding hand of my daughter and took nothing but the house-key.
My night time travels
take me to other worlds,
places I can only dream of here.
Satisfying my thirst for adventure,
my psyche-me and soul-me fly away
with happy winged feet as the body
surrenders to REM sleep.
Leaving the body in the bed, snoring
happily, oblivious and unperturbed
that soul-me is gone, traveling lightly.
Free at night to sail away, to
exotic places, to meet people not often
present on this planet.
We do not limit ourselves, psyche-me
and soul-me. Until the body starts to rouse,
we are soaring from galaxy to galaxy, uninhibited
by anything cumbersome or heavy.
The silver cord zaps us back often way too
suddenly, without warning. The body gives
a loud quick gasp as we re-enter the chest
too hard, and too quickly. The fingers start
shaking; the body 's face shakes, as it wakes
up with a start.
We come back more and more often in this
way, as we are so happy to make our escape
and play. The older we get, the more playing
we do, practicing for the big release.
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