Little Stars in Water

 

Look into the sea, Hae.mi
Do you see yourself reflected there?
All the beauty of the world

The shores and the stars are silently praying
There is a wide open ocean
In your heart, with waves to play

As the seasons of our lives part
With bounty and prosperity
Like how your son asks questions

Vigilant of spaces in the dark
You are the dark unknown of winter
Where everything is lost in the journey

You are the freedom of childhood, reborn
You are the fragrance of salt in a world
Dry and barren, you are epiphanies of

Art, in a world of cities and riots
Beauty, in a world of so much laughter
Water, in a world of timeless thirst

Hae.mi, the way you look at your son
Is the miracle of life for me
The silence and the sand
That encircles the world with a smile

And for that, I have only calm gratitude
Well-wishing, a treasure chest of goodwill
And tears salty like the biggest ocean
A universe so pregnant with love.

Songs of Hedonism

Songs of Hedonism

In the seduction of the sense
We have a series of pleasures
That introduces us to
A desire that is never quenched

So is it worth then to chase?
What fundamentally, shall
Never be caught, like dopamine on a leash
The variety that takes the soul

Off of its beloved course?
Celibacy is perhaps the sunlit path
For virtue and those who have read history
Nothing so tranquil as a good library

However, should you find secret love
Or a scandalous substitute
Remember, there is no sinner like a saint

Nothing so good for the health
As a touch, no learning like
The end of solitude, each moment

A happy lover’s hour, is worth
An age of dull and common life
Right down sensual love, is
A language all nations understand equally.

The idea of Bounty

“Happiness cannot be traveled to, owned, earned, worn or consumed. Happiness is the spiritual experience of living every minute with love, grace, and gratitude.”
~ Denis Waitley

If we can learn to live
Without desire
We can find peace
The mother of it all

Freedom, that has no name
And names can be changed
To suit the needs of the time
But the secrets to living

Are as old as life itself
There is a deep mystery
Around giving thanks
That gratitude, that is its own gate

A prayer that asks not
Anything for itself
But rather, enobles the offering
I am grateful to be part

Of the world
I am grateful to be part
Of society
I am grateful to be alive

Beneath this cosmos
Where beauty and truth
Are actually so wondrous
I feel the non-existence

Behind all that grows and dies
In time, I feel the energy
In space itself, between
Mountains and the sky

And how the trees give
Back to the air
And how the rivers
Sooth the aching earth.

After Journaling

There is no burnt paper anymore
My age of confessions is over
I have nothing to hide from myself
My journals are just filled

With spiritual musings
The drama has gone
And angst is dead
No saxophone haunting

From my bedroom
No squalor beneath my
Guitar-fingers, only
The meditation of poems

The slapping phantom of laundry
An old apartment, beaten up
While my screen paints silversmithing
Of this unusual alchemy

The beating of blackberry wisdom
Into ripe aphorisms, it’s enough
For procrastination and myth
We all have to cross those waters

One day, astounded souls
Leaving games of chess and flirting behind
And filter flowers for golden messages
And live in a quiet place in Canada

Where the stars are not so cold
And all dark advice of shame is gone
Open to the wilderness, ready
To learn how to be free.

The White Sunset

Standing on the tiptoe
of my universe
I found I had

Nothing but love to offer
While the nature of
Anonymous cruel indifference
Can seem unnameably cold
I admired the ability of it

To make us feel free
Insolent as my fate had been
Greener than the word May

The mast of these afternoons
Only beggared for moderation
And that enraptured simplicity
From which I came
That was enough, and so were

The rest of the years that I was given
at the asylum of the eucalypti
I would rest, and it would be
Wondrous and christening
Like a white sunset.

Something to be Learned

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Estella-472873000

Wonder where the hard years went

Up and down and lost like blood and sweat

The monumental dramas have all but disappeared

For maybe love and peace

Can win the day, yet again

I passed a bridge, calling maturity

I broke into a dive, of self-acceptance

It wasn’t a matter of effort

I think it’s a function of

Synaptic pruning, lost memories

All the grown-up people say

The wine from these grapes

Tastes sweeter now, like wonder

Taken at a distance, with some measure

Of quiet detachment, where failure

Dulled by grief disappears

And joy is the only thing that can

Possibly take its place

No longer with boots of the hunter on

The chalk of a thousand sunsets

Has left its mark in nodding understatement

Of all the dreams left like alder leaves

Posterity knows Autumns well enough

That by disks of splendour, all that something

Set in a lusty tune, rust of dormant boughs.

If Faith Could Change the Future

What I seek is A God-climbing heart As wide as the galaxy To host, supernatural spiritual-love A God-manufacturing mind Would be insufficient To express, the purity The simplicity of the divine What I seek is A God-loving heart Capable of …