MEMORIES LIKE MOUNTAINS

Joy jumps up – almost out of nothing –
Hope also arrives from nothing.

Nothing is eternal as love –
And nothing is as unbreakable as truth.

All night long, beauty remains a dark One –
Until morning, when it shatters into a trillion different colorful images.

As we grow older, memories become like mountains –
Mainly lying behind us –
While ahead only a few sparkling streams remain to cross.

While still young, though, Nature called out to us like the children we were –
Bursting with life – and with love taken for granted.

But as we age, our attention migrates to ever greater abstractions
Which become steadily easier to understand and accept
Than those earlier complex bursts of childish life-love.

SEA OF WHITENESS

Western people live in a sea of whiteness
Like they’re on a big ship traveling from one white land to another
Observing colored people only from a distance
Through tiny portholes, and then only
Dimly.

White people can be cruel at times – without thinking about it –
About the pain they cause –
While still relishing all the societal buttons and levers
Designed especially for their personal use.

They can’t see into the past
Because, for a long time, they’ve been living off its fruits –
They also can’t clearly make out the present because, to them, it’s wholly white –
And the future promises to be more of the same –
That is, if they have anything to say about it.

What could change?

White people’s souls could become more humble – more human;
Christianity could begin disconnecting itself from the tight grip of capitalism;
Or the old Gods might get re-shuffled – into surprising new patterns.

One day, however, Nature might commence a long and serious talk with us
Sometime before the human world comes to an end
When, from that vantage point, all our political and racial differences
Might no longer appear to be so great
After all.

 

 

THE CAROUSEL

If you don’t believe in God –
Believe in Nature.
And if you don’t believe in Nature –
Believe in the Works of Man.
And if you don’t believe in the Works of Man –
Don’t worry, the next thing’s gonna come ‘round anyway!

If you don’t believe in dancing angels –
Then look up and enjoy the birds,
And if not them – have a good night’s sleep –
Wake up refreshed –
And something will touch you without your even having to try.

The world we experience on a daily basis is like a shadow inside a closed hand –
And that hand is a broken walnut
The wind’s been blowing through –
A wind that, like a breeze of death, is able to knock anything over.

So, instead of that, think of life as a carousel –
Gorgeously spinning round
Playing children’s songs, decorated with colored lights –
And carrying splendid wooden horses moving up and down.

This is what it means to be a child again – living in the present –
And, perhaps, even to be an old man like myself – right now!

GOD IS NOT PERFECT

God is not “perfect”
Just as nothing alive is perfect.

The only true perfection is death –
Anything alive cannot be perfect, by definition, because life’s constantly changing.

Think about nature, is any of it ever “perfect”?

Jesus was never perfect so long as he was alive –
He only achieved theological “perfection” after his death.

Thinking about achieving “perfection” will only make you unhappy –
Why would you want to be unhappy?

The interior “judge” you’ve been trying to satisfy by perfection is a dead spirit –
Why would you want to be dead?

Be as imperfect as you really are –
“Alive” –
And as happy as you can be!

Perhaps even “joyful” –
If you’re not afraid of leaping into reality –

A reality filled with life.

POETS AND GOD

Great poets desire to express the inexpressible
And that’s why the greatest of them – spiritual amateurs all –
Reach for the Divine.

Early on, Christianity got rid of spontaneous poets
And replaced them with orthodox priests and ministers –
And this is why, eventually, Christianity evolved into a religion of rationality –
A religion without fresh poetic inspiration.

People on a long journey towards the holy, however,
Want their favorite poets free to “sing” to God
Because they understand that spontaneity
Is essential in expressing spiritual truths.

Once they’d given up holy ecstatic singing,
Western poets, over time, increasingly became colorless and dull –
Proving that poets need the energy that can be imbibed
From the “living juices” of a “living God.”

In other words, artists (which all true poets are)
Require a subject matter that is “colorful” – “packed with life” –
Like the Divine (the “face” of God)
And Nature (the “back” of God).

In sum, to have the experience of God remain “fresh” –
God needs poets who are willing to reach out to the Divine –

So, tell me, how did Western poetry ever get so far off-track?

HOLY CORRESPONDENCE

Some poets enjoy exploring beauty in nature –
While others prefer “punching out” big ideas.

Some poets muse about where we came from –
While others look ahead to where we might be going.

Some poets get depressed and lie down in their cups –
While others become, and sometimes remain, righteously angry.

But the greatest poets – the truly great ones –
Look right into the face of divine nothingness
And express the inexpressible.

The truly great ones fall so deeply in love with the Holy
That they write shy “spiritual letters” to eternity
Which sometimes provoke surprising responses from God
And anyone fortunate enough to stumble upon this holy correspondence.

NO EXCUSE

We can encounter God as “revealed”
Anytime we’re out in nature
(To mystics known as God’s “Back”).

To see God’s hidden “Face,” however, takes a pure heart, courage,
And an intense love.

Looking at God both ways allows us to experience God whole – that is, as “Holy” –

And there’s really no excuse for our not doing that.

TODAY

Christianity is a big city religion
Because Jesus, Peter, and Paul all went into capitol cities to die.

Cities are a domain of control –
The opposite of nature or God.

As a consequence, Christianity decided to place its God into an unchangeable canon –
And then closed it for good –
Whereas “spirit” is like an invisible ball
Children enjoy playing with.

Starting quite early, however, Christianity’s most serious games
Involved war –
Taught, derivatively, by its self-designated “13th Apostle” –
Constantine.

On the other hand,
Each individual could be like Jesus
Deciding to become a child of God –
And live as God would live
If God were human –
That is, completely “free.”

Anyone could do this – it’s what Jesus, Buddha
And Mohammed all taught –

But isn’t that the opposite of what the world religions are teaching us
Today?

POETS ARE BAKERS (for National Poetry Month)

Poets are bakers
Kneading wonder words into the food we need.

Sometimes, though, poets can start believing they’re even more ancient than the gods
And attempt to create greater worlds than those gods were ever able to achieve.

Poets’ most critical work, however, is discerning fresh uncharted paths
That they can barely see –
And have rarely had the opportunity to walk on themselves.

Poets also are carpenters
Building worlds not yet in focus – much less existence –
With unsettled words
Plucked out of the sweet invincible air.

Poets use words like nature uses colors –
And diligently work to design magic glasses
Through which “reality” may be seen.

Poets – humanity’s last surviving “world-makers.”

INNER LEAF

God’s never “perfect” because God is real

Same as nature –

Same as you.

God’s not limited by imperfection
Since that’s the wrong category to apply to God –
“Perfection” is only applicable to the world of abstractions –
Which only the “unreal” achieve.

Abstractions are “definable” –
God never is.

So if you truly want to experience God
Take anything from nature,
A leaf, for example –
This is not God, obviously,
Yet the leaf belongs to God,
Just like you, if you’re fortunate enough to discover your own
Inner leaf.