A Diviner Plan Day comes a boon to the world weary eye And morning lights the corridors of mind Is there yet hope for human destiny A way beyond our warring selves to find. Now is the spring when wintry hearts awake To beauty and the choruses of earth A wealth of greens is canvas to remake Our sleep-bound thoughts to promise of new birth. The moon has not renounced her mystic glow The apple blooms, the cherry and the rose, Is the magic any less, the overflow

Spring Blessings All was ice and frozen were my dreams Earth lay beneath a blanket strewn by God, Eternal snowfalls whitening the world. Now death in an in an interminable hour Had silenced hope when beauty disappeared. Beneath me life was stilled, no sound was heard Of waking bud piercing through the crust Of matter's density, the somnolence Of a silent world that lay in white repose. Below one could not see, all closed to view, Above a frozen firmament in time. And then the miracle recurred once more, The land awoke and I the sleeper arose Unsteady with the heaving of the heart. The sudden spring before my window burst In waves of co

Divine Awakenings His path was built on faulty blocks And set upon unsteady sand A stranger in our eastern climes And difficult to understand. Unknown the damage he might do By feeding the fires of discontent And yet the inner core was true Though what he said was rarely meant. For there are those who use the word As weapon and as rapier, To argue is their one delight And truth is without substance there. Still, good is captain of the soul Waiting till the cage door swings Then out will it fly and to our li

The Glory of the Supermind Walking lonely, walking blind In the outposts of the mind I came into a silent space Where troubled thought could find no place And error was a stranger there. There was such magic in the air The bursting soul in me took flight At once so filled with strange delight I flew above myself and then Looked down upon the lives of men Foiled by desire and deceit Could find no avenue for feet That wandered from the paths of God, Into the darkest regions trod Or thorn-strewn paths aware no more Of all that they had been before Descent into the earthly life With all its suffering and strife, And yet I sa

Compassionate Teacher of My Soul 2/29/08 He sowed the seeds of promise in my soul And spoke to me in gentle cadences Of the breaking by the present of the past. For Supermind will not abide the mind Imposed by man, for mind is ignorance. "In six months or possibly one year You will face some problems with your health. Do you have any trouble breathing now?" I answered that I did and he replied, "Follow your breathing for five minutes each day. It is not necessary to hold the nose And the unimportant techniques they have devised, And do not overwork, accomplish things Steadily and in a small way No flash, for this is always

Look Forward Life Where now, the questing mind would know Where, saith the heart, the awful blow Reverberating still in the soul’s space, No hopes, no dreams, lost is all trace Of her love, her gentleness and care That cradled our dreams in a fragrant air, Her laughter that still through flowers blows Her smile as perfect as the rose. Look forward life, look not back At how she met the great attack Of cancer with a trusting will That strengthened as the time grew ill For hope that we might find a cure Or gain a day by some detour Around the dwelling-place of death. I watched the slowing of her breath And sang my mant

On the Shining Roads of Time 1/1/08 As one held under water strives to rise Locked in the grip of a fierce relentless force Suddenly there appeared before my eyes As in a cinematic show the course My life had taken, and now my soul awakes. What glories in my arrogance I missed, The errant paths, the thousandfold mistakes The portents and the omens I dismissed In haste to build my dream on a finite base. I see a vision and a face sublime In timelessness beyond the bounds of space Who greets me on the shining roads of time.

A Figure Lone and Lost I saw sadness clinging to an age-worn face Its life-song spent, suffering more the loss In eyes that once had turned away from grace, Stood by the river of change that all must cross And had no strength to swim nor find a way To ford the rapids of his loneliness And from the easy paths turn away Daring the summit peaks and the abyss To seek the spirit's freedom and exhaust The karma of human error and conceit. I left him then a figure lone and lost The work for which he came incomplete.

He is Not Old 8/2/08 He is not old who lives himself apart From sorrow and the sting of hopelessness, But rather in the quietness of self Looks calmly on events without distress And sees beyond the limits of the mind, The turmoil of emotions that comprise Our waking state and trouble us in sleep, Who holds the wonder found in children’s eyes In the stillness of a heart grown wide and free. He is not old who having left the fields Of arrogance and greed and small desires No longer to the play of passion yields But knows the secret cave where love resides. He is not old who

In the Proximity of Seers Now the heart is full, it asks no more, Returning to a loved familiar place No longer needs to choose either, or As all is now contained in one embrace. The body weakened by the many blows Life offers to the spirit-quest of man, The breathing difficult, the life-force slows, But all is well and to the greater plan One looks and knows the world shall soon transform, A magnitude beyond the bounds of thought A cataclysm divin