A Gift of God

Mother of my Angels
Master and spouse of my
Soul’s bread and water

Come to me, in simple purity
All that I am is yours
My possessions mean nothing
To me, my ownership is not
Something I value, I seek

The universal frenzy of thy bliss
And peace beyond the goodwill
Or ill will of men, their politics

I tire of their customs of ignorance
Let my cavalry be a spiritual vocabulary
The last touch of prayer before
The world changes, as I change
Along with the world, as is

My divine inheritance of this world
Of poverty, these heart-broken people
Their sadness is my sadness, but

My compassion, will it ever reach
Its perfect age? Will I ever know
The fulfillment of my empathy?
Or shall I be as a secret friend to life
Who gave to life only secret signs

And hidden signals? Who will know
My face that lived for the Will of God
The faith of each one’s true experience?

Photo Courtesy:

http://www.deviantart.com/art/Lake-490814078

Charity Doesn’t have a Banner

I think God might
Be a little prejudiced
To divide the world
Into many names of himself
For once he asked me to

Join him for a walk
But said his name was Divinity?
There was no mention

Of this fellow called God
Or why the Christian God
Or Allah were particularly key?
All Gods misrepresent nature
Where there is injury, pardon

And where there is doubt, faith
Where there is despair, hope
Where there is strife, unite

You don’t need a God to do it
But just a bit of goodness, humanity
I think God might
Be getting a little old
For the pope to finally accept homosexuality?

I think God is a bit of a buffoon
Unless you can sow love, for hatred
And show charity not only for your people

Muslim, Jew, Hindu, Buddhist
I think they all pray equally well
Though even the anarchist and agnostic
Hope for a better world than this!
I think God might be a bit out of date

Maybe it’s time to write a new book
And call it scripture, call it holy
To be understood, as to understand

To seek to console, to be consoled
To be loved, as to love
It’s all really the same.

Photo Courtesy:
1. http://www.deviantart.com/art/Angels-II-97544152
2. http://www.deviantart.com/art/Angels-97544003

SUFI PSALM III

When I to you have reached the Eternal Calm
That no matter or experience can emulate
I will explain to be in the presence of God
So unlike the God or Good I once imagined
As if with the best friend magnified times infinity
Sharing pilgrimage so humbly, my final festival
Never let me forget that Celebration, the loves that
Tastes like meeting, and in all farewells remembers the spark
Of awakened eyes that stops the beasts and flowers
To the river of Prophets I have no more to say
O’ my two private friends, faith and reason
At last you have reconciled your old duality
At the place of Beloved contemplation, last meditation
Lost in that place of bewilderment and amazement
Shall I to perceive the fountain of life
Since water is the source of everything
And Light is the creator of all water
Let us listen to the songs of the Dolphins and the Angels
If I fast, if I am poor, If I sacrifice, it is only
To speed up my union with my Beloved.

KINGDOM OF ANGELS

i

Barefoot as an unremembered dream
I’ve felt a calling before Time
Well before the pull of necessity
Delicate as childlike fantasies
I felt a spiritual mission as bright
As other unmet worlds, fast friendship

ii

With ideas, impressions, faces, angels?
A hunger too subtle to explain
Outside of Sanskrit terminology
I’ve heard lullabies too surreal to conjure

iii

A jazz of Goddesses outside my limits
Beside a neighbor’s house, that represented
Everyone, the fading illusion of you and me
I’ve felt on my skin, a prophecy of the deepest blue

iv

The skyline of stars over my head
Quartz waves of Heaven’s fragrance
The honeyed embrace of a galactic telepathy.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/The-city-turns-Orange-67780269

A FAIRER PERSON LOST NOT HEAVEN

I remember landscapes of vanished whims
Dreamy artifices of twisted Bronze
Wishes of creamy abandoned doves
Balconies of stone sculptures

I remember gardens of younger games
Flowers where I left half my heart
Evenings that celebrated the Sun’s wild embrace
From dawn to dusk with cinnamon-trails

I remember drifting catalogs of candles
For festivals I can no longer name
I remember sins for which they
Cast out angels, fallen to be sure –

Stern to forgive warriors, only doing
What they were told, I remember
Sweet and outrageous ideals, ideas, proclamations
All to afford the luxury of a better future

I remember friends with tongues of gold
Whose sophistry was altogether too charming
And how those gilded trees melted into
The green and white perfection of Spring.