Poem: Until


Days

where my skin rubs against

the surrounding particles

of the long dead others

and also

silent trapped thoughts

running fingers down

my nakedness

They absorb

into my open pores

and seep into the recesses

those closed in spaces

in between the cells

and shackled together

by this fleshy scarred coat

It chills

and pulls taut

over bones and blood

stretched to breaking

by times passing

This living hull

scratched and worn

Home

until the day

it joins

the earth

 

 

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Poem: Pneuma


Finding the silence within

when surrounded by

perpetual sound

Sitting still

quietly

empty of noisy thoughts

This is the struggle

of the

evolving soul

The Music Of The Universe


Lately, in keeping with all the inner work I’ve been doing and with the great changes coming out of the last few years of my life, it has naturally moved me back to the more spiritual side of myself. In my past, the spiritual plane was almost equal to the plane in which I lived on a daily ‘normal’ basis. This meant I often felt very in tune with so much more around me and on a much deeper level: people, animals, the natural landscape and of course: the mystical.

Then, the course of my life got in the way, and this beautiful and magical part of my life slipped away  without me really noticing. The spiritual habits that I had practiced left me; all the ‘unexplained coincidences’ that would so often pop up joyfully in my life seemed to disappear and life just became a dull and routine existence.

Like so many of us, the tether to the unknown–to that thing beyond us–(call it what you may), isn’t always there unless you are really looking or open to it. Many just don’t believe, being simply too rooted in reality.

But we all have our own scopes of what reality may be. And I know that my reality had encompassed many things which could not be explained by scientific or simple explanations. You just had to be there to understand. To have faith in the powers and energies that flow. And I did.

So the time has gently begun to seem right, bit by bit, to reemerge within my spiritual self. To put back on my garland crown and flowing robes and step back into the circle once again. And I feel my power returning like an old friend. It was just waiting for my call.

My dreams have been full of visions, visitations and clarity. I use a dream book that I have to help interpret them and I’ve been writing them down in my journal, along with other long and inspired thoughts about my journey.

My interactions with people feel more purposeful and I am often drawn into deep conversations on a sidewalk with neighbors. Seeing people now brings me warmth rather than anxiety and I’m happy to share these moments and feel they are all meaningful.

Most things now feel part of my plan, that I am drawing all things to me. Some days I pick a tarot card to see what it might say, and often it will reflect what I have been feeling during my meditation. That nothing is random: I am creating this reality around me.

It has a been a very long walk to this place of inner peace; to be able to shrug off the demon within each time it threatens to claw its way to the surface. And now that I am dancing on my spiritual path once again, my peace is sweeter: for finally  I can hear the music of the Universe with my whole soul.

Awakening


Much of life can be spent in a dream like state–or sleep walking through it, appearing awake, but really unconscious. In looking back on my life, it feels as though I’ve lived it like this: half here, half somewhere else. Maybe my eyes were open , but I wasn’t really seeing what was around me.

Then I try to look back on this life, I have very few memories that I can latch onto. Friends of mine will often recall great details from the past. It amazes me when they pull minute details of a situation, place or conversation, and I have giant gaps from these times. It’s as though I wasn’t there: a dark figure, lurking in the background. Maybe I was really just a statue, a wax figure of the person that was me. Or I was dozing in another world, perched in a land where no-one could really reach me.

Or maybe I just have a bad memory?

It makes me sad sometimes that I can only grab glimpses from my past or put few pictures together of good times to weave the mosaic of my life. Here and there I see some if I think really, really hard, but they are distant and blurry.

But now I am waking up. I’ve begun to pour cold water in the recesses of my mind and slap myself the way doctors did years ago to get babies to take a first breath. I want to breathe. It’s time to breathe now the fresh desire of creation. To take footsteps forward in the land of the living, where one looks around and everything pulses with energy. That stone figure crouched in a corner has metamorphosed into a spirit. It has taken on life. Looking around it sees the beauty of the world, hears the humming of the planet and tastes the nectar of nature. It absorbs at a deeper level, tucking these senses within.

Aroused by the pulsating beat of the earth, my life is beginning to finally happen. The start was slow and messy, taking the circuitous route, but is coming back on itself to the now. It can take flight and the quickening of it all leaves me light. The weight falls away, and now I flutter open….

Yes, I am awake. I am awake.


Poem : The Accomplice


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It was just that time
Of poetic paths meandering far beyond
Expounded boundaries
The craggy ragged loopholes
Only a few can see

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A strange accomplice
Meeting in the cloak of night
Our utterances often simple
But their power brilliant
Did shine

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And under She who guides the dark
Did we merry dance and play
Forever etched you will stay
My friend
No matter where you are

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Our hearts are always near
My dear
Wherever I do look
A leaf a branch a solid stone
My accomplice
Is on the road
With me