WISE AVIAN
Nested in wisdom,
She contemplates her guidance:
Waiting to navigate.
Her large eyes, surveying life,
Visioning the divine course.
Easy to get lifted up
billowed out on the wonder
of it all,
the manifest beauty, the panorama
of nature’s splendor.
Easy also to ignore
a single termite’s latent ability
to consume mighty mansions,
or the flood and glut of plenty
to strip away the flourishing
along with the withered.
See that little infant
toddling barefoot through sweet grass,
plump little feet
moving to their own crazy rhythms,
how like playful Shiva’s dance it seems
as He crushes meadow buttercups
to ignite cosmic suns!
See that tiger glowing bright
in the blind fathoms of a starless night?
That is your own hungry heart
knowing
that you alone
are your own chosen
prey.
When the Earth burns too bright
it is the fire in your blood,
that see’s beyond right or wrong,
destruction and creation.
Such visioning
is far beyond rapture.
KEEPING HEALING HOPE ALIVE AND WELL
(A LIVING EULOGY TO JESSE JACKSON)
Our hope is alive
In the healing grace of faith:
We shall overcome:-
Jessie’s chant nourishing us;
His spirit navigating:-
Mentoring with King,
He canvassed the dream’s vision:
Burak…Chapter One:-
Keeping hope alive, let us
Start visioning Chapter Two:-
Our hope kept alive,
Resurrected and rising,
Vision two coming:
Red flushed out, and black poured in,
With justice and equity:-
It’s in alive hope,
That true greatness is coming:
True democracy:
Rest in peace, Jessie Jackson;
You spirit lives on within us:-
in ever-increasing streams light beams
truth of cosmos where we exist
joy a fundamental quality
holding love’s frequency
to express harmony
removing errors
knowing rises
in silence
visioning
ONE
MIND
victory obtained
flow letting outcomes go in wisdom
Dreams, Goals, Age
Miracle Man
January 5, 2024
I remember visioning of a future day,
and toward this goal I’ve played many roles.
My life’s chosen path, would make my way,
Stepping stones took me toward my goals.
But today, years later, my dreams have vanished,
I’ve no more dreams; my future has passed.
It seems, by age, my dreams have been banished,
and today, most thoughts, reside in my past.
“The older you get the greater you were”.
Lou Grosscup
I have been loaded with blessings,
You may be asking;
Where are those hallowings,
That I keep announcing,
You may not be perceiving,
The reason for my sayings,
Later! I may be answering;
Your concernings.
Oh! You people keep asking,
Questioning!!
My daily blessings,
That no one is visioning,
Except, I'm true in my perceiving,
In tune with my living,
Beyond my sayings,
I may let you on seat clamping,
To my daily changing,
I keep rooting;
Inside being.
See
This journey may seem to look as if it's proving otherwise, but it's not through my own eyes that I see to realize that I grasp at that which is far more transcendent. Never fooled, or tamper with by the blur I glance at and pass through because it is a fabrication of longevity, in all spirtuality what I See
Is only temporary.
My glaze is much more of a gentle daze because in the maze of my days in the glaze of God I find my sight and that's where I only need to pay attention to that which he called me to See,
Because anything that's in my view to look as though cripple,
Just know it's only temporal.
My perception is kissing my perspective when I'm visioning the way God calls me to See,
The vision gate-crashed my mind;
with the force of a meteoric collision
and then it began to glow.
From out of everywhere….
“When I declared, you were created in My Image.
you then taught that your image was Mine, when
in truth you are image-less but for My vision."
Foolishly I still tried to construct a countenance
with pigments dredged from my own earth.
A pause then…
“I will look into your eyes,”
What I saw made me both weep and laugh.
It was all so simple, so attainable this One visioning
and yet…
The vision looked away…
…I fell back to a sightless earth
glowing brightly.
"the chase"
some say the chase starts with a glance or stare
waiting for each other visioning a moment to share
others say the chase starts with a whisper of hello
hoping for a greeting of good morning and afterglow
you say the chase continues beautifully time after time
making it a mission of hope with a mountain to climb
I say what an adventure the chase has been thus far
for the pursuit is nothing short of a shooting star
whether glances whispers endless times or chance
the chase for us is a life changing endless dance
SkyWatcher
02-28-23
Such ancient stars so nightly nigh
may seem, while viewed through aided eye,
that we can only wonder where
or if they shone on beings there
who once won out to do or die
within a when so long gone by
as to bewilder with a sigh
our visioning from earthly lair
such ancient stars.
Though sight we might yet amplify,
our senseless senses often lie.
While animals with talents rare,
in seeing self, we’re unaware,
albeit telescopes descry
such ancient stars.
~ Harley White
* * * * * * * * *
The poem is in the form of a rondeau…
A source of inspiration was the following…
Info and image ~ A collection of ancient stars…
Peaked out and everything was covered
White—some things totally invisible—visioning
Helpless immobility burdens, once always conquered:-
Background sunlight caste dull-white shadows
Across whiten, once pale green grass groundings;
Where excited dogs have left frozen scented footprints.
Wow, who would have imagined that warm yesterday
Was, as if fall had challenged winter to show her cold face?
Well, weary winter just burst out in all her agonizing beauty!
And now, here we sit in an even more distancing atmosphere
With its own chilling pandemic overtones of melting running water
Wetting wishful dreams frozen into no-show-snow, slippery tomorrow!
man or machine is,
a world of science
man or machine is,
a world of madness
a machine is a mechanic science
a machine is a mechanic madness
mechanic is mechanic of a man or machine
science is a mechanic of man or machine
science is a mechanic of science
vision is visioning man
vision is visioning a machine
vision is visioning a mechanic world
a vision is a mechanic world
a vision is a mechanic science
man or machine,science is a vision of a man
a galaxy is a vision of a galaxy
a galaxy is a vision of man or machine
a galaxy is a vision of a mechanic world
science is a galaxy of a mechanic world
science is a mechanic world man or machine
science is a mechanic world science
Perception pours back and forth,
amid the windows and the eyes
and where is mind between them both?
Between body and soul what we may see
has many meanings we’ve yet to know;
look carefully between the panes,
examine study every winding road;
conceptualism’s highly untamed.
Fox and rabbit
doze in their tunnels,
both watch each other
through a voltage of fur.
A famishing moonlight
kindles a visioning fire.
Trepidation ignites
the darkest niche.
Like prairie cites
bodies are illumined
by a shimmering fear.
Blood shines.
Tonight I am electric
I am the light that consumes
itself.
In my unearthed shadows
I shiver
and am found
by each hunting star.
The dripping poet’s pen
is a ready tongue
excited to be heard
by curious eyes
seeking enlightening
through imaging words
of a contemplative mind;
metaphorically
visioning cosmic truths
from the cistern
of revealing wisdom;
timing life on earth
between the light
of living and the darkness
of death—both given
equal justice—yet
its equity in living life
is not as in dying death,
for death is not prejudice
and can’t be blamed
that free at last is deemed
be in her, rather than in birth.
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