PEERING OUT OF TUNNELS

Why worry about what one “looks like”
When peering through cloudbursts of love?

How give up one’s “self” in order to look through God’s eyes –
Or take a “perfect shot” without aiming –
In other words, how act in this world?

How will we achieve the spontaneity of no ego – like children do –
Or be impervious as a flower taking its own beauty for granted?

And why spend life peering out of tunnels
To see whether you’re loved or threatened?

What God is, is fearless – like water –
A being who’s no “thing” – but radiates love –
Without, however, being interested in the images created inside our heads –
As opposed to what we’re actually doing.

God appears wherever nothing else can be seen –
Beyond the self – even any “God” self –
That is, a selfless “self” who sees – but can’t be seen –
Because God never appears outside “spirit,”
That is, “love,” truth,” “justice,” or “beauty,”
And why the “you,” yearning to model yourself on God,
Are unafraid of dying –
Because there, you’re actually not there –
Even though, up to now, you’ve been busily completing a spiritual self
Inside time!

 

THINKING IS A TOOL

Thinking is good – perhaps even better than knowing –
Because thinking is a tool – like a knife is for cutting –

And cutting is important to distinguish one thing from another.

For most human beings, thinking is an outward-facing tool –
Rarely used for cutting the cutter.

People make exquisitely fine cuts
Truly accurate dissections of others –
But, ordinarily, fail to address themselves.

Someone able to use a knife on herself
Is able to open eyes all over her body
To see through time and space.

If she keeps cutting, she’ll end up with nothing –
Which is a result God encourages – ultimate freedom!
The place where the universe begins and ends –
Where love, truth, justice, beauty, and freedom
Constitute points from which everything else bursts into being –
Where spirit touches the material world –
After taking a long path from material to spirit –
And then repeating itself
Over and over again.

GOD SINGS IN COLORS

Traditional English poets were primitive
Because you could hear the “beat” but not actually “see” much of anything.

When your heart echoes that beat and starts becoming giddy –
Your eyes will still be saying you have no idea where you really are!

A poet of fountains hears cool splashing –
A poet of the mind occasionally knows what he’s talking about –
But a poet that “sees” the world – as it is –
Is the poet God listens to.

God sings all the time –
Not always in melodies, that’s true,
But listen – God’s singing right now
About a direction in which to go and friends we might want to listen to!

God also sings in colors –
But only mystics are able to see this beauty
And only mystics have a good idea what God’s been talking about –
Generally, love, truth, justice, or beauty –
Directing these holy conversations straight through our hearts.

CHRISTIAN CAPITALISM

Poets of “the spirit,” to some, may appear un-American
Because “America” stands for a boyish “toughness” –
For men pursuing women with showers of strength
And women carrying out the role of store-window mannequins of beauty.

However, the spirit, in essence, is beautiful by itself!
Which is why it’s so unknown in all 50 states –
After all, people didn’t come here for beauty
They came for money
And, for some at least, there’s been plenty of that.

There’s a surplus of energy banging around in the good ol’ U.S. of A. –
Lots of striving to make “big house” dreams come true
Culminating in hierarchies of unequals – originally imported from the Old World
But, more recently, branded “Christian Capitalism”
Worshipped by cold and intolerant Evangelical hearts
Without the necessity of any spiritual foundation whatsoever.

It’s a mystery why beauty never became more important in America –
Perhaps it’s our dedication to “first things first”
Or that we simply never got around to fully appreciating it.

Treating “beauty” in this way, however –
Imagine how unlikely we’re ever going to view “love” or “truth” –
Much less “God” in a serious manner either.

WHEN THE “BAD MAN” STARTS TO FALL APART

When the “bad man” starts to fall apart
All his accomplices will quickly depart.

When the “bad man” splinters and splatters against his own hard intolerant walls
His “syncopators,” especially Stephen Miller, will turn liquid –
And head down the nearest drain.

When this “bad man” suddenly comes into full frontal view
His monstrous lies and threats will start to become boring.

When his blatant artificiality loses all its former “reality show” power –
When his foreign model/wife appears, in her own reality, just plain hard
When his twitter shrieks of “self-greatness”
Remind people of the cries of a hysterical black crow stubbornly sitting on a nearby fence –
That’s when all his gold-plated Mar a Lago decorations will finally turn to shit.

Every single hammer blow he’s spit out against the truth
Will be remembered – and returned in full.

When his mocking contemptuousness finally comes to an end
And starts going in reverse –
And when his criminality and boorishness
Become obvious for anyone to see –

That’s when the biggest bonfire
Ever built will get lit –

When God, personally, will kneel down and light the match
To this Clown King’s acts, being, and memories –
So they flare up in a bright white flame –
Like a national cathartic torch –

Hopefully bringing our beloved country back to the normalcy
Of which it’s been so long deprived.

 

HEART OF GOD

My grandson, Jules, was recently born
Knowing a good part of what I’d like to know
The moment I die.

And that is – a moment of purity, serenity, and composure –
Before, one day in the future, hopefully, flowering into ecstatic joy.

From the moment of birth – God’s gift of first in-breath –
To the moment of death – God’s gift of final exhalation
Is usually a long and eventful road.

I myself would like to end up with Jules’ ability to gaze out at the world
With such unknowing “wonder” –
In fact, at the end, I’d like to achieve that same look –
Accompanied, of course, with a conscious compassion for the entire world.

I’d like to understand what Jules experienced as truth at his birth –
And then end up achieving a mature ability to love.

Jules, someday I’d like to be able to “see” as clearly as you did on day one –
While, over my lifetime, developing a heart as big as the entire world –
Perhaps even paralleling, in my own small way, God’s own infinite heart.

Yes, I want to go out as clear-eyed as this newborn baby arrived –
While, over time, diligently developing a heart of God.

GOD IS FREEDOM

God is not power or any variant of power –
Instead, God is freedom –
Because without freedom, there’d be no point to power –
Which is why the weakest and most vulnerable human being on earth
Is more godly than the most powerful –
Provided, of course, that she’s also more free.

Each individual human being is born free –
And then goes on to develop into a “someone” or “something” –
Usually an ego playing out a role –
But, in spite of reaching worldly success, fame, or riches
If one lacks freedom, then such goals will amount to “nothing” – in any true spiritual sense.

So, given that we’re born free
And life’s ultimate goal is to return to that original freedom –
Letting go of our roles in order to become a holy “nobody”
Is how, finally, we’ll be able to achieve total freedom –
Maybe even becoming as free as God is free.

Freedom is the precondition to any spiritual gifts –
Whether love, truth, justice, or beauty –
Because, without freedom, none of these is possible.

Ultimate freedom, of course, comes with freedom from the terrors of death –
Because if one is free to die, certainly one will also be free to live.

Jesus understood this – along, of course, with everything else!

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.

HOW IS IT POSSIBLE TO “SEE” GOD?

Perhaps, as a reflection of reflections?

Instead of that, though, why don’t we move directly towards God
In every aspect of the “spirit” that presents itself:

For example, Love
We pretty much know what love is and how it reflects God –
So I think we need to pay more attention to the love opportunities in our lives
And, whenever we recognize love, we need to go all in.

(Love is a decorative button attached to God’s clothes)

What about Truth – we’re quite familiar with what truth is
And how it’s close to being the essence of God –
When we state the truth – especially against our self-interest –
We’ll just need to keep going – until our spirit starts becoming lighter.

(Truth dares kiss God’s lips)

What about Justice – we know how serious God can be about this
Since one can’t hide injustice from God –
In such a case, God will wake us up, place a mirror in front of us,
And compel us look directly at ourselves.

(Justice is the worn leather in God’s shoes)

Finally, what about Beauty – the lively and joyful glints in God’s eyes –
You can “see” God in all the surprises inherent in beauty –
For example, in Nature’s infinite flutter, or a loved one’s irresistible laughter.

(Beauty is the face of God glimpsed just before God turns a corner)

God is “light” – a shimmering
God is the expectant feeling in our hearts when we know something “good” is coming –
God is the expectation that life can be good –
God is identical with that “goodness.”

God is God – and that’s certainly no joke!

 

“DEATH”

Is death like stepping off a cliff –
And falling forever?

Is death the loosening up of our atoms
And then returning them to the ground,
To the air, or even into deep water?

Is death a matter of disappearing to one’s self –
And then, shortly after, to others as well?

Is death memory
Gone irrevocably bad?

Is death the end or beginning
Of life beyond life?

Is death a gift taken back –
The kind of negative surprise we’ll slowly learn to accept as we age?

Is death a truth no one can bear –
Or a self-love that can disappear overnight?

Is death a fairy tale –
Told once too many times?