As for the Sun

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Sun Worship

There is still a reverence
Of sun-worship left in me
Nourishing the seasons, patient golden clime
Lovely Goddess of yellow

Call God’s country everywhere
Without stars where would we be?
Not in the office of harvests
Not in the countries of Green

The sun’s rising never fails
Her setting is an indie-gleam
She’s all the states, all the royals
Of nature’s supremacy everywhere

The sun gives all a portion
Of the universe, in the eye
On the skin, and it’s a golden bridge
To beauty, warmth, life-force

This bed thy center, galactic truce
That I would swim from sun to sun
In overwhelming heat of youth.

Invitation to Experience


To posterity I give prosperity
Unread verses, anonymous scripts
Of the law of love encoded
Hardwired and entranced

Who will be born tomorrow?
I would write for them
Tell them of their hearts
And the dancing histories of humanity

Time is long and the worlds are wide
The path of the ancients
Runs in our acts, everyone’s path
Fate is not a solitary act

Beauty is not a generational event
Truth is not owned, liberty is not bought
I have never won, by sword or pen
My freedom, only in the future

Can you be free, not today
I wasted my life in insolent loneliness
Only to discover pure experience
Requires greater risks, greater acts

Of self-determination
Than I was ever capable
Traveler, hurry your steps
Be on your way, for you may

Not have the time later
To do truly what you want
To posterity I give prosperity
Lyrics unchained of two gardens.

Fugitive from Utopia


The hand beats the air
It’s a poet who floats up for a moment
she could take up residence
in a nest of stars, or gallop from light rays

With words longer than dreams of flight
Her hour is the silhouette of infinity
With visions that last a lifetime
Wild in her brain, needing to be written

That’s a poet, not an angel
Pale and fiery, passing by a rose
Saints wept in her handkerchief
She seeks happiness in little words

Making no promises, but rapture
And authority of visionary commentary
mystic union, she could take up residence
In the folk wedding, of spirit and mind –

The hand beats the air
She was born to be a poet you see
Dead Nefertiti’s voice flown from her mouth
which lifts you, wing-beats of days and nights

She is a fugitive from Utopia
She walks from the unforgettable sea-shores
To catch her muse, that voice
That breaks between one wave and the next

Sifting through the costume of silence
Behind the veils of time
For the pause of moments
And the whisper of the monologues of the earth.

She is blurred with loquacious tongue
Of the eulogies of countless white-haired men
Ancients that spoke with the tenderness
Of a handful of birds who visit the bird-bath of song.

Photo Courtesy:

After Heraclitus with Kundalini


To sneak upward is one way to reach God
My teacher said to learn to be transparent
To bathe in silence and watch the waves

To shed in the cycles of time
To renew the spiritual skin, again & again
Until you are so alive
That nothing can stop you
All nature is a fire

So learn the alchemy
Of transformation, befriend change
Shine on the sunlight and praise the metamorphosis
Dart with the ancient hieroglyphs

Learn what the ancients meant
By spiritual discipline, conservation of energy
The same river of the universe is always there
We burn in it and are taken away

Only to age in rugged paradigms
One step closer to quantum realities
Self-preservation is a spiritual event.