Psalms of the Organic source #quote #refuges


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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.

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.

Psalm 2 – Unconditional


Why do the weak find God easier?
It is because they know innately
How to surrender to his Will
The Lord cares not for your

Human strength, in an artificial
Society, in contexts of your
Politics, or your ideas of good
I will declare the decree that

God is natural, takes no particular
Joy in judgement or acts of superiority
But gives life, as the sun or as
The soil or as the trees and waters

Why do the loving find God easier?
It is because they innately know
How to give of themselves and thus
Are given back to a hundred-fold

Therefore, do not be so meek
And shut thyself in thy little routine
But make time for kindness
A little each day, that thy death

Won’t be a selfish act of escape
But a liberation from all thy good works
Be wise therefore, of what it means
To be natural, to rejoice, without

Judgement, not condemning others
To your petty views, to your ridiculous
Biases, no matter how benevolent
What can thy possibly know

Of another creation’s fate?
Morality is by instinct a failing to take
Into account, the universal laws
That is the true nature of things.

SUFI PSALM


67

O Beloved, supernal and exquisitely omnipresent
O garden among the flames
Of so many dreamy lifetimes
I have sat at the table of my heart
Waiting for signs of your rapture
I have had a meal with other souls
To drink your water of timeless love
I have talked to the spirits of all the worlds
Only to hear your laugh in their strange mouths
O Beloved, we who profess the religion of love
Follow you, without any material care
My heart can take on any form because of you:
A meadow of gazelles, a cloister for monks
The idols and sacred grounds have been left behind
For a future whose caravan path only you know
O Ocean without a shore
O Morning Light without darkness
I have had hid myself from you for too long
In the guise of a scholar, in the suffering of a peasant
Thou art a unity sphere with no precise locality.

The Duty of the Poet


16

I will take thee, as a Poet
To candidature for ethereal thrill
Subtle as the inner champers
Portions of visions, phrasing that

Dwell as full as an image – the red Rose
I will transport thee, as a Poet
To Cathedrals of fraught mortality
Joys of darling spontaneity

To risk all for the Scarlet Shelf
And usher in liberty for arcs of white
I will love thee, as a Poet
Until the house is full, that of the dream –

As conquering as love’s palaces
As secure, as divine intercourse
I will lead thee, as a Poet
As a carpenter on hands & knees

With opened palms, known to nobody –
As a stranger speaking of the elder tongues
I will speak of summer fields
And unheralded flowers dropped from memory

As a juggler turned wordsmith
As a prayer turned literary
I will take thee in, as a Poet
As the original artist of creative Vermilion

The pressed dust of symbolic projection
Of minds painted with brief beauty
That warrants pricelessness, with every line
These bards never awake from midnight’s trance.