you ask,
why loneliness?
i ask,
why mosquitoes?
or love?
or humans?
are they all the same question?
Feb 272006
February 27, 2006
Dec 202005
there's a place
beyond which
i cannot go
where mind stretches taut
to Know
to pierce the God walls
that entomb the Truth
the Answer …
or something
more important
… and final
celestial mental minders
cling to my thoughts
like jealous cats
guarding secret mouse lairs
locking, blocking, stopping
Thought Processes,
forbidding entry to the
Fruit of Final Knowledge
on penalty of …
something more is intuited
without the thinnest edge
of reason to justify pursuit
nothing cannot exist
sayeth the little mind of man
to its Self
in its dream
or His,
or Hers,
or theirs,
or …
there is no sense to this
only nagging, fleeting innuendo
teasing my highest faculties,
taunting me to follow, to wonder,
to ponder, to surrender to
… nothing
where nothing lives or dies,
or laughs
… or cries
wrecked on deadly shoals
off sealess shores
I scratch futilely
on the immutable wall-face
of Forbidden Knowledge
to gain entry,
which
never
comes
where are the Gods
they speak of
when our fears
reassemble our eternal atoms
into adversarial
random
patterns
of chaos?
the illusion of well being
evaporates for one terrifying
moment of truth and
we see …
if there's a hell, said daddy,
this is it
and at least that's
… something
if it is
hell or not
not allowed are we
to know anything
… important
December 20, 2005
Dec 202005
What to make of this thing we call Life?
Some offer answers from the Book they
say is “God’s” while others assert and insist
it’s all a matter of random odds. Perhaps
we’re in a dream not ours—but of the
One Complete. Yet if this be so, I wonder
more at His troubled sleep.
The oddest thing of all is that I find it odd
at all, absent a memory of what …
another life? If this is all I’ve known,
what other world could I divine? What mad
notion compels me to entertain something
more sublime?
Then too, perhaps the dream is mine alone
to write and play as I may choose, with
schemes and scenes and lesser dreams for
others to consider thus. If that, then have I
the Gods designed? Is my self-deception
so complete? Is such genius stuff in me so
devised to lay great Mysteries at my own feet?
December 20, 2005
Dec 202005
Live lightly with the wind and sun
and the seasons of the earth.
Move softly with the thoughts of life,
the sense of life, the landscapes of life.
Make love to life when love needs a place
to be and see what you have done there.
Steady and straight toward the truth of life
is the way, dear friend. There is no other
path is so honored. When Survival begs
your Soul to hear its Song of Death, trust
that which speaks from within your Heart.
Abide within the house of Love and travel
on the road of Wonder else you miss the
landmarks of your journey—the promise of
your life.
Do not be blind and dumb to the wondrous
light outside your inner night. Listen closely
to your primal memories, to the lessons of
the ages, the wisdom of the sages.
Make love to life when love needs a place
to be and see what you have done there.
December 20, 2005