After Tears & Flowers


The area around the Andromeda Galaxy (ground-based image)

After Tears & Flowers

After years listening for
The pending section of immortality
We heard the imperfect stars beyond order

Where all foreign prayers float
The sentience after singularity
A rebellion from transcendence
And a mauve notebook yearning
To return to more sensual primitive states

After ascension, it was all
We expected to be, an abrupt dawn
After so much waiting, from change to change

It was a perpetual sonata of transitions
We become a new human being
Each year, without anxiety
We were positioning our neurotransmitters
To be completely prescient

We became prophets of predictive analytics
And stole into the future
Ready to let go to so many of our ideas

Beliefs, routines, habits, acquaintances
In order to become our own awkward
Ceremony of who we truly wished to be
It was the journey that counted
After years of work, life become

An art of learning how to surrender
An assault on all the goals of our
Former way of existing.

When My Name Was


20

Changing Destiny

In the epilogue of final exists
At the wild invention of stories
In the emergency of all narrative
Who will you decide to be?

In the immediacy of dreaming
Where only a few years count
How will you stalk destiny?
Dripping with the temporary

Appetites of mortality
What will you give your soul to?
The journey that is
Beneath velvet stars, points

ii

As tiny as infinity
Blindly feeling even thoughts
Your body pulling you
In mundane directions

The moon never did any good
Breeding, profit, mating, belonging
But is that all you were created for?
In half-lit houses we ache

iii

But do not know why
A quicksilver fluidity of the future
And the grave realities that contains
All of us in holographic form

Forever retrievable, forever
Exportable to baby-earths
An algorithm of small theatres
Beautiful framed by the prospect of free-will.

The Last Flight


120

The bhakti path never ends
Its tenderness watches over you
The ego disappears in surrender
Like it always has, immersed in the other

The mystical ‘other’ who is always there
In a universe of leaping up to
Divine water, ethereal light
The joy of looking for the Beloved
*
In common matter, the fish of time
I know you are ready for the last flight
The spectacle of the world was difficult to find
The Swan will fly away all alone

Back into the Divine, when our life
Span is complete, who shall know
If we are any wiser, any more tender?
The messengers of fate will say

What they will say, and we shall go
According to our doing, our attributes
We are disciples of nature, god, evolution
Who are we to say if we are united or estranged
&
The bhakti path never ends
It stretches on into lifetimes in various forms
Who are we to hope for birth or enlightenment
The Beloved steers us where we are meant to go.

Photography Courtesy: http://browse.deviantart.com/art/Swan-199231681