These poems focus on a variety of ways that the questions that underlie our perceived existence: “Who Are We? Why Are We Here?” - questions that serve as the foundation for examination and for finding paths and some answers that have come to me over decades, where these get explored. I don’t really ‘know’ if there is AN answer that is universal – although I do postulate one for exploration and pondering.
How did it all start? Where will it all end? Through science and religion Mankind has pondered And wondered. These are questions so immense That the answers may come Only through the eternal.
So, day by day, We take thin slices To occupy ourselves – To apply OUR science And OUR religion.
In the day by day world, We seek rest, change, learning. Peace comes in the babble Of a flickering screen, On a playing field, At a resort, For the weary mind. It comes in the silence Of a meditative mode. You know what? Whatever Is – Is all that there Is. Is the physical world, The imperfection In the otherwise Perfect Universe? -Or- Is it that In our perfect Universe Contains What we have Otherwise thought As imperfections?
If we are moving Away from Creation (The creative force) At just over The limit of our ability To perceive – Then we will never Be able to perceive Creation -Or- Is it rather that Creation (and the Creative Force) Is infinite.
So, It continues, It continues Throughout the Eternal Sea It continues Forever.
In this I call my life Nothing ever goes wrong; Each heart lives to love, Each voice to give song.
We are here, spread out, Smooth, not knurled, Spirit's manifestation Experiencing the material world. A part of the Creator, A chip off the sublime We are energy existing In space and in time.
In this I call my life Nothing ever goes wrong; Each soul lives to give, Each voice to make song. Each time we awaken From the eternal soup, We go off a-questing And return to regroup. Unconscious creates our reality; Consciousness bears her fruit; It is for us only To conceive as we would suit.
In this I call my life Nothing ever goes wrong, Each spirit lives to unite, Each voice sings that song.
If All is ONE, and One is ALL, and IN THE BEGINNING There was God, and There was a beginning, That was, is, and will be Evolving (or ending?), and
This Path, Youandme - (Weareoneyouknow)- We are traversing from Beginningend To Endbeginning.
Then, How to figure out What is the job We have to do In this SPACE?
If it is so That all there is Is NOW, Then presence – PRESENCE – n this NOW Is what is required.
A PRESENCE, Awareness, Of the glue Holding the atom, And holding The threehundredbillion galaxies Each containing threehundredbillion suns – Energy So vast, and Space even vaster.
Space, Absolute zero (we thought) Around Black Holes Absolutely hot (‘We” haven’t been there yet). Ying/Yang Everything/Nothing.
MEandYOU, YOUand ME, Creation, Evolution, Devine energy. The saying goes: “You can’t see The forest for the trees.”
How to be ONE – Lost in YouANDme?
Listen Listen to the whispers Of the Universe: The eternal vibrations That underlie all sounds. Listen to the sensations reflecting Each soul's story In this time And in this place We call our life.
Listen Listen to the thundering silence -- The silence that inspires; The silence that supports; The silence that determines and defines The vessel that contains the bounds and boundaries Of existence - of possibilities; Of all that ever was; Of all that is; Of all that will ever be.
Listen The notes we play Have a deeper melody - A baseline and rhythm Underscoring the top notes. Listen to a melody that knows the sounds - The sounds of what was Before the Beginning; The sounds of what will be After the End.
Listen No crashing symbols; No Ode to Joy; No Angel's choir;
No thundering God. . . . A Silence . . . That is much, Much more.
Listen Listen to the ebb and flow, The ebb and flow of The Eternal Seas of Creativity. It laps upon each shore, It soothes the weary, It inspires and uplifts. It is from where we came, And to where we shall return.
Love Love is created from the silence; From the space between the notes. Listen to the music of silence! Listen to the music of love.
The Restless Sea
The restless sea Once again returns To its seduction of the shore: To tempt, to caress, To tenderly wet and smooth, And, at times, To frothingly pound and ravage, All according to the mysteries Of the pulling and pushing forces.
We, as the ultimate shore, Pounded or caressed, Smoothed or roughened, Await the next surge - Not quite sure in our expectation. We await, Knowing surely that it, IT will come, Then withdraw, Gone once more Returning to the Eternal Sea, Leaving us with the memory Of a wave from the Ocean of Time.
May we appreciate then, The majesty of the shore, Proud in its existence, As the waves hit and withdraw - Some as smooth and impeccable As the infinite grains of sand Washed between the ebb and flow, Some grow or incarnate as Jetties of rocks. In the jetty of humanity, Extending into the Eternal Sea, We are worn and changed By the restless sea -
Finally dissolving Into the Sea's mass - Becoming once again Part of the whole.
These infinitesimal parts Combine to form the shore, The substance of what we call Life - Clean and white, The Foundation for the future, Building on the past For a purpose, undefined - Yet divine.
The Droplets of Life
The droplets of life Are held in a crashing Tumultuous sea, Riding the tides, Their ebbs and their flows, Emerging.
What was once Washed up upon the shore Is gone . . . Except that we know The traces of their presence, The legacy of what was.
They existed, They have made their indelible marks. They have returned To enrich and make More perfect The Eternal Sea.
Life is richer For the cycle - For the legacy, Their contributions. May we never lose Awe of what transpires.
Two hundred billion times Two hundred billion, Someone sayz - That's how many Stars they say there are - The calculation is 10^24 stars. That’s a 1 followed by twenty-four zeros.
Where did they come from? Where will they go? Someone said: "They come from the Creator - From a Big Bang." Imagine that noise!
Someone else sayz There's lots more 'stuff' We don't know about - Real dark stuff: Stuff that really holds things in. What's on the other side of that? And, by the way, What was before the Beginning? What will be after The End?
Someone else sayz There's another way To look at things: Move our concept of Beginning and End, Move our concept Of left to right, Of yesterday and tomorrow To only NOW - And NOW, And NOW is infinite - Not only is IT "possible," But everything just "IS." The two hundred billion times Two hundred billion May be just a drop in the bucket. Think about all the life Teaming here Just on this ONE planet. Think about all Your thoughts, and All your dreams, and All the possibilities You KNOW are possible . . .
It is like A long row of eateries - And just as we stop at McDonald's - Not because it is good, But because we KNOW it - We aren't threatened; We are comfortable with the familiar. So huddle the masses; Who wants to walk to the edge And jump? Of course it is scary, And FEAR is so controlling - So determinative.
Two hundred billion times Two hundred billion - That is a lot of sunshine. Walk to the edge . . . Why not jump?
Who sayz You can't?
The Many Are One
The many teachers are ONE, The voices become a chant, Sung together. It is variations On a theme: The beat of our ONENESS Is solid, pervasive, Resonating and filling all space. The melody is simple, Clean and compelling – Like the notes of Master Beethoven’s Fifth. And, AH! The variations: Billions of us Playing with these notes On instruments we have modified And individualized. The many composers are ONE, Their names, Their silences – The space between the notes. Such communication: Playing the spheres Of Eternal Spirit’s Orchestra, Communicating more than we know How to hear. Listen, listen, The music is eternity. The many players are ONE. At first, the discordance Of the orchestra tuning – Each on her own instrument, Working to create the pitch, Striving for harmony. Then, attention to the conductor, The baton falls, Enlightenment enters; Cacophony becomes waters Falling over the cliff, Plunging into a deep pool . . . Of BLISS.
Dimension, Onion-layered. We move along A green-white sliver, Bending back upon ourselves. The brain machine functions For the unnamed mechanism. Unnamed? It seems man’s quest Has been to find that label. And all science’s endeavors; And all philosophy’s semantics; And all of discovery’s yields Have been a left-brained tour-de-force To come to another layer In the onion-layered Universe. Sure, some of us inhabit, Maybe even understand; Some, maybe, can even commute Among the dimensions. Onion-layered Universe. We peel back the green-white slivers, Looking for the truth about ourselves. Then what? The quest gets Major League status. Our onion plays with untold numbers Of other onions – New dimension: Onion/layer/onion - A universe of onions. Beyond that? Onion Universe plays In a league Of all kinds of vegetables. Each, put together, In different ways. Beyond that? Leagues of all kinds Of growing things. And beyond that? An infinity of beyond, Of Universes, Of Gods.
Onion-layered Universes, Peeling back the green-white slivers, Opens the mind and being To answers And more questions. The Quest is infinite, Going to two points
The Center-In, and The Center-Out. And the line that connects them Is everything, is creativity, Is the eternal Now. And you and I – “we” Can even start from that line That is everything And explode it, And stand on it, And be with the infinite other lines.
And explode And Explode AND EXPLODE !!!!! HALLALUJAH! Wow . . . wow . . . wow!
And All You Gotta Do Is Let It Be.
Stars and flashes; Spining wheels – Streaking meteorites; Foaming rapids. Throbbing temples; Pounding heart; Panting breath; Funny stomach; Swollen brain. Excitement; Newness; Creativity; Fresh/breezy/sparking. Turn on . . . Turn on . . . Turn on . . . Whew!!
And I Sit On The Deck
The Sea calls. The human race In its petty pace Is evolving On the shore. The masses of cells, That within us dwell Stretch back To a spark from the Sea – Nothing more. And I sit on the deck, Wondering what to expect: What has this life Got in store? Out past the horizon I gaze, Filling out all the Parts of my days With creative energies Coming to the fore. What is the Force That charts the course And, in the end, Tallies the score? Who pilots these senses? Who creates all pretenses? What is it Behind life’s door?
And I sit on the deck, Wondering who gets the check – What has this life Got in store? Each of these cells Is connected One tells; We are linked together Forever more. And the Sea calls To each part of the Race To pick up its pace To move in, Away from the shore. Connected we are: Each cell, Each star – Listen . . . here it is: Big Bang’s Primal Roar! And I sit on the deck Oh, what the heck, We are Now and Here, We are all ONE, Forever more.
Time: Minutes, hours, days – Steady flow of events, Upon events, Upon events. Remembering Things, places, people – Remembering lives and loves; Lines in space; Creating past . . . Anticipating future.
Prescience: Blessing or curse? Remembering no time, No place – Blissful allnothing. Remembering at ONENESS With things and no things; Going past creation; The eternal void. Meeting pure love, Peace. Time: An ‘interesting’ creation For embodiment to relate; For being on a plain Where material selves Can dance. Hear the music – That is the eternal language Of the Universe. Engage in the practice Of Being – The place and space That time underlies And surrounds. Time: Hold it in your palm; Turn it around And inside out: Play with it. Time flies; Time drags; Time stands still; Timeless – Whose time? Got the time? Tick . . . Tock. Blessed silence. No time. Forever more.
Sunshine Tops a comely landscape Of gently weathered Hills and vales. I walk proud and strong On the high road to selfdom.
Has that brilliant flame Always burned to drive Down the path to tomorrow? Did spent sands From The Eternal Sea Cover molten creativity, Stuffing the eruption? Domesticated sun, Spinning in monotonous orbit Within the Universe Of endless circles, Flies off in a tangent Of creative confusion. The magnetic attraction Becomes irresistible.
We Can Be One
More - Than the obligatory Saying in words And knee-jerk reactions. More - Than external acts For others to see and applaud; More – Than recounting what was; Or anticipating What could be. I reach into the ONE That is The ONE That moves you, Thinks you, Spirits you, Is you. I experience a soul That is wise and whole; A spirit that dances In the space between the stars; Lighting not only galaxies, But also, other souls. I bathe in that light – Holding a mirror Of clearest cut diamonds For you to see Your many facets And how your soul glows. I feel and I “know” That we are ONE in many ways. I sense that attraction Will pull us into a world - A world of answers; A world of contributions; A world of meaning; A world of knowing – Knowing Who We Are And Why We Are Here. It is the trip we came to take; It is the path to be followed. As you so wisely said: “It never gets boring!” With love . . . That is, in the end What is the best and only thing ONE can offer. We can be . . . We are ONE.
Liminal moments Imbue our lives With mystery and meaning. These are the inexplicable experiences In which the visible And the invisible worlds overlap. This is the intersection Of timelessness with time, Expressed through metaphor and poetry. These are the soul-level perceptions – Subjectively significant – Understood in the heart. These moments, These experiences, Provide intimations Of a divinity in ourselves And in the Universe. These moments are the basis Of the perception of an underlying ONENESS, And of after-death communication. They are called sychronistic, Psychic or mystical experiences. They are.