Love^s Briefest Hour.htm Love's Briefest Hour 12/09/07 How many times can the heart break Before it ceases functioning, How many blows can the soul take Before life ceases functioning. How many times did you betray The love so brightly born in us, Your faith could not survive the day For doubt in you was bottomless. I saw your angel soul and knew One day you would not hesitate To find a music only few Have heard in meditative state. You are so young and there is time, Time for the song in you to flower Perhaps one day a peak to climb Where once you lived love's briefest hour.

A Light That Leads Cradled in the arms of night I slept With one eye open to catch the thread of dream That haunted me, with sudden motion leapt From the shadows of my undiscovered self To pounce upon my chest, its stranglehold A firm and ever-tightening noose of death. I fought and grasped those iron wrists, those hands So cold that threatened to annihilate The spark of soul and steal its cache of light. And as its grip intensified I knew, Within the

Wistful in These Latter Years There are gardens that remain unseen, One life is not enough to span the tide Of bed and leaf and bloom and all the green Wonder of this sacred mountainside. There are flowers that I have not spoken to That bloom unknown to the unperceptive eye And fragrances distilled by morning dew As the seasons of my soul go fleeting by, Music of the earth I have not heard The songs of distant seas that charm the ear That seeks from God a touch or living word And prays the silent mind His voice to hear.

The Message and the Meaning I was a dreamer who dreamt a thousand dreams Of sunlight and the whispering of leaves And flowers in tall grasses by the streams Of childhood's faint and aching memories And those who came to me in the sleep of night, The spirit's teachers who magically appeared In strange and flowing raiment all in white. And when they came nothing in me feared The occult or the reason I was brought To those mystic sessions in the ancient East. Initiate though I was, I was taught Lessons that to this day have never ceased Though unintelligible to outward mind And rarely opening to mind's recall Lodged wit

Elegy Now the tired world winds slowly on And tortured turns to numbing apathy, Circling like a blind automaton Drowns in violence and tragedy Amid the silent vagaries of space. All this sorrow visited by man Upon his kin, an animal disgrace Or worse for the capacity to span The endless depths of his depravitude Aided by demons he has sought. A life of calm seems but an interlude In the many needless wars that man has fought. All these sorrowful centuries of pain Deaf to the light the sages have foretold, The hills and fields of earth a blood-red stain As the embers in the sacred hearth grow cold.

The Terrible Abyss Where is the poem to set the soul aflame, The lines that herald immortality, The secret and inviolable Name Whose sound is whispered through eternity? Before us yawns the terrible abyss. Is there still time or has the glass run out To effect the final change or shall we miss Our goal and ending with a poignant shout, "What have we done O earth but wounded you And in our senseless greed failed to care For all that is most beautiful and true", And then go down

To Wake the Sleeping Lord Approaching in the brilliance of her smile The radiant, all-powerful, Divine, Her golden aura lifting us above The narrowness and focus upon self, Who kindles in the hidden heart of things The purifying fire and the flame Of aspiration never to be quenched Though all the world entice us with its gifts And darker entities awake desires, Passions ego-will or power's lust. For she can fill the hollow in the heart

If God Allows If God allowed the Holocaust Then He himself was killed And every soul the world has lost His own death He willed. If God allowed the saint and seer To rise above our pain And bring the new creation near Then He will come again. If God allows that you and I Will one day see His face, Divine is then our destiny And earth His chosen place.

This World is Magic Built on Prayer Because we don't stay the course, Drifting in and out of our minds Forgetting what essential is In the chiaroscuro of ignorance. Looking back at my failures At their immensity I balk Astounded that I have lost so much And all these years so little gained. But I have known the solitude Of woodland stillness and the friendship Of birds and joy among the flowers, No visionary, I

Journey to the Divine Morning breaks upon the world A splendour of orange and silver and gold, The night's banner is unfurled Pierced by light's arrows fold on fold. My night too must find its end And vanish in the spirit's flame, For I have gardens yet to tend And music of the sacred name. Far now from me the arrogance Of youth's desire to be known, I seek no earthly recompense For through these trials my soul has grown And needs not fortune, fame or kin Or any outward human sign But seeks though love