Sunlight lifted with Her golden fingers

Hae.mi, as the golden sun interlopes
With the falling snowflakes, I see the destiny
Of how to trust the universe
It’s a woman who teaches, it’s a man who obeys

Like a lullaby of sweetly flowing years
“Trust the universe”
“You will be happy”
The nations can rage on, I do not care

Friends and lovers are free
To call my bluff, I enjoy the calm
Of solitude, the way the harmless hours
Merge into the sea of experience

Hae.mi, we do not need much love to survive
Only one drop of truth in our hearts
To believe that anything is possible
When the sun is low, and I am a colored singer

Who can hear the charm of the soul
It does not matter if I am simple, poor, barren
The world is wide, it extends to all people
I am a servant of the universe

With or without my consent, I pray at the chapple
Of her designs, and my tears are pure gratitude
There’s nothing left when memories burn away
Only beauty, only the inquiring mind

Of one for the many, of light for its unity
Of darkness, for the bird islands of life
You are as much alive as you dance in my cells
There’s no need to possess, when bliss is a substitute

In the meditation of our lives, art reassures us
That our suffering has spiritual meaning
The same mist hangs, as in ancient times
Your human eyes, pieces all that I am
To see divinity in a human form, is its own reward.

While Summits Crash the polluted seas

While Summits Crash the polluted seas

The silver hope that gathers God at dawn
On spent days of long-scattered faith
I to the sacrifice of my hour have come
In broken intervals and debts and canyons
That trace, where my visions used to run

Perhaps I was not gifted at prophecy
Or the unheard aches of my own life
I didn’t live for success or to consume

I ate and drank and loved, to create
And while my veins were steeped in the profound
My blood was the sap of poverty
My pulse could feel the identity of others
Moreover those minorities who had no voice

In this estranged world, where we are so
Desensitized to the suffering of others
So unenlightened regarding our differences

And naive to our shared history
The bell-rope of gold that lifts me up
At twilight to dispatch me into the night
Well it won’t hold forever, one day it will snap
And I will be nothing more than the whispers

I left behind in time will not hang, or whistle or gamble
I milk-bright will be left a flute note to the chiselled wind
And in the transparency of centuries that blur
On top of each other, what we were will be lost
In an echo of machine-learning that outsteps our biology.

Psalms of the Organic source #quote #refuges

Psalm of Souls

The spirit is a beacon
And the righteous run to it and are safe
Among those whose faith is pure
How fine their company
Trusting in what is sure

The universe becomes a world of understanding
Our path becomes straight
The world strengths and helps us
And our righteousness is reflected
Back unto us, for good deeds multiply

Do not let your hearts be troubled
For in giving peace, peace may you receive
But take heart, even unkind men
Have a glimmer of hope
And nations in strife crave the faith

Benevolent acts are our refuge and our warmth
In giving we become free of our own troubles
Therefore focus on the on high
To make thy will pure with ease
Look upon the mountains and the skies

We were not given a timid spirit
But a spirit captured by the power of love
And the heart of self-discipline
That was born to love all creatures
And do good works unto this world

In bonds of mutual faith, good works become
Doing our spirit’s will and lifelong salvation
It is found in shouts of joy and bearing
Witness to the small victories of others
As if it were our own, how fine the company

Of our sisters and brothers in this place
The fraternity of all souls is my refuge
A community as large or small
As my heart is willing to bear
I preserve life according to words

Words that are my sacred weapons
Words that are my soul’s quality
Words that stream forth in amazement
Words that embrace and answer me
With the kindness of others
And the tenderness of life’s many wonders.

(When hope has no face)

It Asked a Crumb of Me

Hope is the thing that catches you
When you have children
It perches in your soul like

A quiet song, you cannot explain it
Faith has feathers without words
It’s simple, profound

And has a quality that never stops
Its flight traverses dawns
Hope is a quality of purpose

To have a future is enough
Little birds must content with
All the dangers, just like you

Hope is not found in all
The parts of this world, some resent it
Others have reset it, it lingers

In the back of our minds
Even when storms have come
Hope inches you forward
Sore from tragedies, it brings you
Your people, and sometimes

That is enough to get through another day
Sometimes nobody comes
And you must go inside
To find the peace of the strangest sea
To find crumbs of divinity.

Whisper of the poet seers

Whisper of the poet seers

God alone is enough
Said the Angels to the women
Nature alone is enough
Said the mothers to the children

Trying to let the little boys
To find gratitude for what nature gives
Let nothing startle you
Said the Saint to the sinner

The sinner only smiled
For as a beggar he knew
Whoever has God
Lacks nothing, and there

Are as many secrets to happiness
As there are men, God alone
Is enough, to pray means then
Not to desire for one self

But to serve a higher power
I will tell you when Spring comes
Said the Angels to the chorus
How God knows how to heal

Time reinvents herself every April
I will believe it when I see it
Said the little girl to the big world.

After Sappho

Death, does thou lie?
What lies beyond the breath
No bright reversion shalt

Thou gain, given a lifetime of faith
Death, be not so cold
After you, what can remain?

An extinction of what was once
A company of many friends
Or loneliness dies to itself

To be reborn in someone else
There was a time to wander here
To think of life’s empowerment

To learn, and laugh, and love
For some mortal months
Death, take me, subdue my story

With the ending fit for all hearts
It does not matter how we die
We shall die, and that’s art

It’s poetry to die and wonder
Thou bringest all endings here
Here to a universe of expanding light

With only time to gather or pluck
The shortest quivering sentiment
Of what it meant to live.

As the Sun Sings along the Navels of Prophets

Art by: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Prophet-26476972

But now he sleeps without end
His potential buried forever
Now the moss and the grass
Flowers the dreams of what

His life would have been
Better maybe than some fates
The dew will simply blanket
Darkness, his soul will retreat

Maybe one day to take form again
And he will seek a confident profile
And his goal will bewilder him
And his beautiful body will carry

The tiger-thirst of the multitudes
And he will play his role
Below the stars like an actor
And the horse-clouds will see him

And the groups of silence
In the corners of the Earth
Will whisper of him
Like Buddha, Mohammed, Jesus

Or Kalki whoever, it goes on
A lament for what a man stood for
A symbol for what truths can mean
Across generations; a philosopher,

A poet, a prophet, an innovator
Because, tomorrow’s love does not wait
Evolution does not falter
Her veins of coral are never mute
But flow with the pride of genius itself.

Psalm 3 – The Sacred

Lord, how in thinking of only
Myself, am I lost in a world
Of cruelty without redemption?
There is no God for the selfish. Selah.

God does not exist for those
Who compete against others
For profit, for territory, for power
Against humanity, against life

Lord, how the masses are
So serious about their lot in life
And equally almost stupid
To the wonders of existence

In their down-trodden state
They forget the grace. Selah.
Will their tears come to nothing?
I will not be afraid for myself. Selah.

If God is near, the heart finds
Salvation, in what was given
Not by taking, but in accepting
Not by pushing, but by smiling

Not by cursing, but in learning
How simple is this world given. Selah.
I am only now beginning to comprehend
When I found light, I realized
I had no enemies, I awoke to this.

I lose myself inside this soft world

Love is the joy of the good, the wonder of the wise, the amazement of the Gods.
~Plato

Art Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/miss-universe-353517674

Everyday wonder makes a claim in my life
she kills me with delight
for an ordinary pleasure or a surprise

light on the haystack, breeze on the stream
hope in the eyes of the young
faith in the heart of a pure soul
I’d like to think I have acclimatized myself
To joy, but it’s not true

we don’t have an exceptional relationship yet
though we are bonding, building rapport
it can take years of untrimmed kindness

to sooth a weary soul, lips of spirit
kisses of altruism, echoes of passion
everyday wonder, makes a hole
in the place inside of me where
I make my daily presentation to myself

nudging me to celebrate, what I do have
love that has found me, friends who stay
poverty shows prosperity, hardship shows strength

while we are growing wise,
we are growing old, I’m not surprised
to feel a little more mindful sometimes.

Psalm 7

O Lord my God, my universe, my Evolution:
In thee I do put my trust, save me from turbulence
Deliver me from persecution among my own kind
Lest they tear my soul like last lions,
Rending my faith to pieces, while there is none to deliver.
O Lord my God, train me as I train myself
Let me learn good in every evil, and in ignorance
Find bright specks of knowledge, let the presence
Of Majesty persecute my soul until I surrender
Not to mine enemies but to God’s will for me
Yea, let him tread down my life until all doors are closed
But God’s own will, and lay mine honor in the dust. Selah.
Arise, O Lord, as all cosmic things, revolving Stars!
In the absence of judgement, I will protect them
In the absence of greed, I shall give unto them
In the absence of righteousness, I shall humbly love with them
For the congregation is the compass, the people are the journey
Let the Universe organize its energies, fate’s integrity is enough
That some die too young and others wield pain without remorse
My defense is of God, and to all people I must assume
God’s plan works in mysterious ways, until all wickedness comes to end.

Psalm 2

Why do we suffer needlessly?
For the people crave vain things?
The Princes of Wealth set themselves upon
A recruitment of slavery for short-term gains
But creation and nature are the anointed
In that silence of evolution everything is subservient
The corrupt will fall in their greed
And their pleasure will turn to disharmony
Then shall love again speak to them anew
Nature shall declare the decree: thou art Good
Thou art my Son; this day have I begotten thee.
Ask of me, and I shall give thee love and health
More intimacy authentic than power’s brief reign
And thy possessions will fade, for a deeper love
And you shall become wise as Kings of old
Serving the Lord of Love, you will rejoice finally
And laugh at the folly of your lesser times
When you sought everything and had nothing
Now thou has nothing, and are a part of everything
Blessed are all that serve not to suffer, but to give.

LIKE INTIMATE POLLEN

I need the light of your Energy
The ceiling of my heart listens
To your words, devouring hope

Each day I soak up your faith
Like a candle listening to leafless rain
And my windows ache

For your lovely Dawn
And I feel your breeze
On my skin like feather-kisses

There is not a drop of hate anymore
For life is the fire of peace
It burns like a heart moving into

The cold, my blood circulates
Around your soul, like a life
Ready to be born, conquering the world
An ancient way of being and believing.

That Faith that Came After Hope Departed

I have seen faith, felt her
Gently on my face like morning light

I have gazed into her
Naked outright sun like a child
The word ‘faith’ means
An experience of elevation
To that which is properly invisible
A dewdrop or a floating leaf

The yearning for horizons unclear
Even if you dreamed, with open eyes
The faith of the future would
Persuade you that something special

Is near, a luminous speckled light
From some mysterious source

I have seen faith, felt her
Like water on my thirsty lips
I have thought her in my mind
Bringing me closer to nature

Where a brief second seemed
To last a year, I have been that flower
That forgot how not to bloom.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/angels-wings-37355652

the Taste of Poverty

A Day! Help and yet another day
Where if prayers were as passer-byes!
They do not greet me, what a world

Such as this, deserves less prayers
More acts of startled selfishness
Might date a victory, in some forgotten

Future, where the past is no longer remembered
These nations and empires and economies
Do not steady my worrisome soul

My psyche was not built for war
Or angel-worn prosperity, I eat
The hopping-sideways for miracles

My life a quiet volunteer work
Of learning empathy in such hurried grounds
My velvet mouth chasing crumbs
With the taste of beauty and divinity

Lingering in my mouth, silver steam
Turmeric and ginger tongue-bells
Garlic butterflies off to the fragrance of noon.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/e-n-d-o-f-t-h-e-d-r-e-a-m-s-403349873

Wrap Your Beautiful Robe of Spirit Around You

I feel some Beloved presence
Pulling me like a river
To drink the dawn in bliss-recognition
And take in sunset like supper
And drink to the stars
From clear spring waters

I feel some Higher energy
Teaching me to look for signs
To observe the soul’s progress
Even in trickery and hypocrisy
I feel the last truth waking in me
I’ve given my brain to the ‘Divine’

With neurotransmitters of Ananda
I now walk completely naked of identity
So much have I accepted my fate
I study the ways of transcendence
Like an exercise of transformation
I feel some Beloved presence
&
Pulling me like a river
To drink the dawn in peace-existence
And take in dew on my feet for breakfast.

Photography Courtesy: http://browse.deviantart.com/art/Diamonds-381053343

Conspiracy Video:

God in a Secular World

Nothing impels action like
The love of God, which has –
So many forms, teeming sub-shoots
Like subcategories of Evolution
Sects of harvesting Will
Offshoots of motives of the Beloved

God will not give anything in return
But we will act, in brief necessity
Dying to the art of our years
With the bare hearts of our fleeting youth
I think the hope of loving

Keeps us going, even when
We are unable to adapt, unable to act
I have been like this for a while now
The love of God, it’s not lost on me

I’ve translated mysticism even when
I’ve wept for the light that didn’t reach my heart
It is said God is always ready for us
But we seek him without, not within.