A Self-Help Poem


To love life, a gift from Creation
Is a duty we too easily forget
Misunderstood is the wonder
Lost in suffering, is the gratitude

But friendship with life, is so
Essential to finding beauty
Learning like a child, so fundamental
In our ability to appreciate circumstance

And paramount, in the capacity
Of limited creatures to choose free-will
And exercise their soul, in blossoms
Of experience, in honest affections

In pure becoming, that’s the philosophy
No trials can censure love out
There are these holy attractors
These metaphysical magnets of bliss

They are quantum fuel for the sensitive
Not only to be sensitive to suffering
But sensitive to virtue, open to kindness
Giving and receiving, without judgement

Participating in harmony spontaneously
God knows you are apt to enjoy suffering
But to make it a habit would be an absurdity
Make love the habit you base your life upon

To walk a golden path with a smile
To find your dreams on a sunlit assertion
That your life is what you believe it can be:
Life is a perception of how you reinforce the positive.

Letter to final interpretation


30

Like our bodies imprint
Not a sign of how we rejoiced
In the seasons of our youth will remain

The sand will straighten itself
The wind will not comb our hair
Time will not sit still for us
Dates will no longer exist
Our soul will be lost in energy

ii

Nature will rebuild and
The world will close behind us
Aware only of its self-centered drama

The languages our heart knew
Will not be sung in any dreams
The faces we once cherished
Will no longer exist, exactly so
None will help me, for I will be dead

iii

Though did I help the world
That gave me learning grounds?
As the centuries drink the amputated

Routines of generations
We even flew a little, in our prime
Had some rare ideas
Experienced ourselves more fully?
We loved with the wings of everything

iv

As far as I’m concerned
It was enough to be
Dismantled so easily by age

Decline was a precise surgeon
The engineer in my genes
Knew of angels before sunrise
Though in the anonymous paths I tread
I only felt a whiteness above covet me

As if I watched myself knowing

Brevity, mortality, impermanence
So aware of each moment slipping
Until I knew the name of divinity
And it was, already time to let go.