TIME

Time is stronger than all universes combined
Because it moves
And carries those universes along with it.

Like a pill, time swallows everything whole –
So we’ll never be seen again –
We’re gone
No longer here, even in the very next moment.

Time is not beautiful because it doesn’t exist as a thing
Beauty enters the world only when time stops for a second
And, suddenly, something or someone appears
Wearing brilliant shoes.

Time is like a handshake without hands
A kiss without lips
Or a hug without a body.

Time can’t be understood
Because there’s no place to stand back to view it –
Time is flow and we’re in that flowTime, apparently, goes in only one direction –
Up or down – never, sideways.

Time has a sense of humor
Because whatever you expect usually never appears –
And frequently turns out to be its opposite.

Time thinks this quite funny.

“HERE I AM, READY OR NOT”

Men invented the ego but kept it mostly to themselves –
Women thought this quite the magic show
Generally permissible to watch.

Men created masks for dancing round a fire –
Women hummed and pounded the earth with their fists
Which resulted in many children for the community.

Men invented writing but kept it to themselves
Women said: “alright” and retreated into kitchens with daughters
Resulting in men monopolizing societal memory
Which, in turn, encompassed gods, wealth, and power –
Thereby inheriting a “male heaven on earth.”

Someday, all these “men-as-Gods” will have to stop
And take a break – in order that women can stand up without fear
And show us what we’ve all been missing.

I pray the right woman, reading this – today –
Will stand up and say: “alright – I’ll do it” –
“If the world is now willing to accept a “woman-as-God” –
“Here I am – ready or not!”

TWIRLING

Soul asks Mind to leave the room
Because Soul can’t see itself while being watched –
And Mind does nothing else.

Mind is terrific at counting
But Soul doesn’t care about that – refusing to accept totals –
Instead, Soul closes its eyes and waits.

Soul is fond of surprises
Because its secret desire is to wake up
Delighted.

It’s super-important not to get Soul and Mind mixed up –
Though purity is essential to each –

Looked at from one direction – diamonds –
From another – raindrops.

I really don’t know much
But certainly want to go a lot deeper –
Life turning into death, and then, turning back into life again –
That long-forgotten dance.

So, I bow to God, saying:
“Let the dance commence!”

Joy frequently arrives through twirling.

SHE’LL HEAR US AND COME

Each of the old religions are fading away
Because, essentially, they’re all male!

Men have taken it about as far as they’re able –
But, now, it’s over
And time to start imagining the face of God as female.

I’m not talking about any everyday woman
I’m talking about an ideal
I’m talking about a woman able to step beyond Jesus
Who meditates deeper than the Buddha
And who wields the sword of truth more nimbly than Mohammed.

While the entire world is tumbling and crumbling around us
With weird new diseases taking hold all around the planet
It’s time to call out for a new God –
Personified by this ideal female –
Gentle yet brilliant
Beautiful yet profound
Way beyond the boundaries of quotidian male justice.

Her name is and always will be “Love.”

She’s the only hope we have –
The One we’ve been waiting for.

She’ll be the first of a new kind of enlightened being –
An avatar of a spontaneous, deep, love –

If we concentrate all our asking – (and, personally, I’m asking) –
Wherever she is on earth – out there among seven billion people –
She’ll hear us and, hopefully, come right away!

WHEN THE TYRANT APPEARS

When the most insistently religious
Completely die to their Christian faith.

When fiery conservative political warriors
Reject all their previous ideological convictions.

When our country has lost all memory
Of its once hopeful-desperate founding.

That’s when a tyrant, sneakily, blusterly, appears –
Fortunately, pretty inept – for now.

When regular people start dressing in white satin robes and bright red hats
Wildly cheering errant nonsense.

When a once great political party
Transforms into a lick-bottom.

When noble visions are no longer retrievable
Because, now, a large minority of Americans “just don’t give a damn.”

That’s when the terrible tyrant will unveil himself
Decked out in his loudest bronze dog-meat face.

FACES

When is a face not a face?
— When it’s frozen in place.

When is a face invisible?
— While looking inward.

When is a face the same as all other faces?
— In crowds.

When can one’s face expect to be replaced by God’s face?
— Only through grace.

When will you fall in love with another face?
— Once in a lifetime.

How remember what your face really looks like?
— By refusing to look into mirrors.

What does your face look like in a dream?
— Nothing, you can’t see your own face, you can only see other faces.

What does the wisest face that ever lived look like?
— Certainly not a clay-fired Buddha.

Does your face ever laugh?
— Only when tripping over itself.

What sex or gender is your face?
— Either or Both –

In other words, a face that’s just been born
— Which looks a lot like God’s pre-religion “Face.”

MY NAME IS SURPRISE

One problem with religion is its construction
Of sandcastles in the desert –
Waiting for successors to knock them all down.

Another trouble with religion is its professionalization –
Because only amateurs are authorized
To take off their clothes in public.

Then, with religions, there are “splits”
Where the fiercest enemy is a sizable portion of its former self –
Flying arrows – hearts turning black.

The final trouble with religion is the killing off of founders
Because founders, like Jesus, the Buddha, and Mohammed,
Are still too alive to be turned into museum sculptures –
So alive, that everyone runs away screaming:
“They’re alive – watch out – better yet – run!”

Of course, running out into the lonely night,
Eventually, you have to stop, turn around, and start to relax –
But it’s really not so bad without post-founder institutions to believe in –
After all, that feeling of freedom is wonderful!

My heart starts doing jumping jacks
In my chest
Out my mouth.

My name is “Surprise” –
Just don’t try sneaking up on me!

BLAZING BEAUTY

How is it possible to grow more beautiful while aging,
Especially given all the recent dimming
Of eyes, ears, teeth, feet – even balance?

Is it only our memories that are getting somewhat sweeter,
Especially the recent ones?

Those recent memories – the brand-new ones –
Having just been born –
Are certainly the easiest to grasp.

Primarily, it’s increasing gentleness that I have recently begun to accept –
Especially a gratitude for small gifts –
The unexpected ones, that aging’s been providing me with.

I think a certain kind of beauty does arrive with age – but mostly from the outside –
A beauty we might never have noticed before
That we can carefully turn and store inside ourselves.

It goes without saying that this kind of beauty constituted the original name of God.

So, as we get older, it’s our ability to accept God,
Along with God’s primary attributes – love, truth, justice, beauty and freedom –
That’s the source of any and all blazing beauty in our lives.

DROWNING IN GOD

Each year, a few more people attend my blog
So that, suddenly, it starts filling up
And looks like I’m getting noticed.

Then, one day, everyone goes away –
Was it something I said?
This blog is whittling away my natural optimism –
Coming and going – chips flying.

My wife usually remembers to support me –
But one day I made a mistake in repeating an earlier blog –
How could she not notice?
Yet no one has that kind of memory.

I don’t sign the blog with my individual name
Because that’s unimportant –
Instead, I’m writing little notes to God
Who, I hope, appreciates the effort.

Writing, for me, is like being underwater
Then, suddenly surfacing –
Waiting for a bit, and then going back down,
Hoping to reach ecstasy before drowning –
Hoping it might be the same thing –
Drowning in God while dying in me.

FREEDOM IS A BLANK SHEET

To lose everything might provide total freedom
But it doesn’t usually happen that way
Since a person can only lose one piece of themselves at a time.

Writing is freedom on a blank sheet
Without even a dot –
This sheet appears as empty as God
Who’s been busily filling everything in.

Love is like leaving a window open
So that, suddenly, if a bird flies in –
It’s the symbol of your heart returning home.

I keep tearing off pieces of myself
And tossing them out into the dark –
Pretty soon the night will be all lit up with me –
How embarrassing!

After a certain age, sex and gender start floating off –
What’s left is much greater freedom –
It’s what you’ll see when you get close enough to look directly at God
While, later in life, you start filling up with so much love
That you can’t hold onto anything else.

God is a surprise
Because you never see God coming –
Just don’t piss in your panties
When it happens.