Sing Me Asleep   Sing me asleep. Let the pure voice Be not denied. Rhythms softly swaying Rocking the night to peace, All the tumult of the day Swept away in song. Sing me asleep.

To Worship the Presence Romantic soul is beautiful but flawed Too easily hurt by treachery and guile Or moved to tears by beauty and desire Or unrequited love that tears the heart And blinds the eyes to greater love that calls And waits within the corridors of soul. Mind the great discoverer is flawed, Blinded by the brilliance of its light Believes that only what it sees is true Or can discern by intuition's gleam. The vital self is always unfulfilled, Unending conquests are its food of life, And what is left when body cannot cope With age and its infirmities and falls Too soon upon the hard-rock roads of life. The soul

Was it Not Was it not I who met you in a dream When youth was waking from its dream of sleep, And walked the halls of subtle space to sit On your right hand upon a couch of gold. Was it not you who came with gentle hand To tame the fire that raged within my heart, Begin the process to cleanse and purify, Prepare me for the walk through many lives, Remove the obscure veils that hide the soul? Was it not she who garnered all the past And saw the future possibilities, Fierce, yet tender with a mother's love Removed impediments to clear the way That I might partake of her divine largesse. The body now grows older and the years Press down with stro

A Being Formed of Light Flowers once unknown now blossom here As if embodying those mighty souls Who left their light-impress upon the earth, Singing of a golden dawn not far From all the suffering our days attend. A small blue blossom modestly appears Springing from the earth of our desire, And with its beauty silently proclaims The advent of a spiritual day When a being formed of light shall manifest Amongst the multitudes who wend their way Half-conscious of the world that is to be, Striving with the paltry means in reach To seek a living from the iron men Who hold the world's exchange in greedy hands.

On Aging One must be grateful though the world cave in Upon the seeker and the struggling soul. As the body moves towards the dusk Music comes to comfort and uplift. I hear new melodies unheard before By busy mind and outward-seeking heart Though the spirit-song has always guided me. I listen to Kodaly and find peace In the choral strains of 'Esti dal' Perhaps to be alone is best though hard, In calm reflection of those wonder years When all could be attempted, all achieved In the boundlessness of earth's embrace. No thought of death can come where there is light And joy and breath of being and desire To reach beyond the clinging past's constr

Will I As Man Survive? With an unclouded eye to go within And sound the deepest fathoms of the soul, Leave the past behind and truly see What lies still hidden in the cavern space That holds the untold vastness of the self, This exercise attempted now I find Persisting in me a host of small desires, Resistant to the necessary change As the edifice of sorrow I have built, Limited mind that clings to old ideas, A body hardly conscious of the goal, A heart that falters on the fiery road, A being ignorant of bliss who lives Circumferenced in its small bays of self. How then have I been chosen for this path? I clearly see my of

Of His Infinity Seeking with the stultifying mind Answers that can only come when calm Descends and breeches the thickened fortress walls, Crosses the draw-bridge of our ignorance, Above the moat of our obscurity Subdues the defenders of old and fixed ideas And the guardians of superior intellect, Enters the Chamber with the sword of peace Installing on the throne the rightful heir. Only then begins the warrior-quest Who seeks for truth in life's uncertainty, For love that burns a bright unsullied flame, A body to bear divine unbearable bliss, These births accompanied by careful death Who moves us when we can no loner move Or grow into th

Ever Towards Light 10/23/09   I fell into a world once seen in sleep, A sleep not fading into dream, but real, Tactile, vibrant, vast, and borderless, Where all was touched by beauty, formed by love, Saw palaces afloat in limitless space, Their alabaster columns in the sun That never set, its ever-changing hues To captivate the free enraptured soul, And settled in an other-worldly calm. I saw approach the men I knew on earth, Conversing amicably in tones subdued. Before them walked the one I knew as Lord. Majesty was sculpted on his brow And all around the air was charged with peace. A friend once told me of her childhood dream In whic

Let the Holy Fires Burn (10/13/09)   Body do not fail me now, So many pages still to turn In the unfolding book of soul, Let the holy fires burn, Burn away and purify The remnants of all egos past, Let fall away the sense of self Surrendered all to Thee at last; Nor let the wiles of fictive time Interrupt the spirit’s course, Let me still chant the sacred AUM Filled with Thy transforming force.  

You Must Become My thoughts like a dark and storm-racked sea Rush upon me and there is no rest, Sleep comes in fitful pauses and I wake Exhausted with a weight upon my chest. Great gulps of breath to still the pounding heart Return the body to some normalcy. Last night while reading Milosz I was struck By a certain similarity Of life experience, his phrases burned Onto the page with Truth's imprimatur. All these years gone by, so little learned Of riches that lie within us, we demur To vagueness and content with 'getting by' Make of our days a journey to no end. "You must become what She has seen in you." These words so gently