I Have Touched Her Feet A casket of unparalled delight Brimming with the joy of human form, Divine, attired in our mortal dress, A tiara of stars above Her haloed head, The secrets of the mystic dance revealed In every step upon the offered soil. The radiance in Her eyes a thousand suns Appear as nightfall on a silent land, Her voice a music of forgotten spheres. She lit in me the fierce eternal flame That heatless burns consuming all the dross, Her speech the very utterance of God, Her smile could kindle joy in barren hearts, Her touch transform to beauty all the dull Distorted images that plague our days. I have touched Her feet,

Upon the Paths of Time Feb. 18, 2006 There is still too much in us that would resist The swift descent of the transforming grace. Old established things reluctant prove To vacate their ensconced familiar space. The ingenious machinations of the mind, The vital self in love with its desires, Even the body's unwillingness to change Weigh heavily on the spirit that aspires For calm and peace, surrender to the Light, The radiant godhead whom we feel we know Within, above, perhaps our very soul Encouraging our feet to swiftly go To the mounting hills that towards the heavens climb And touch their feet upon the paths of time.

The Mother of Creation Desire was strong in me, the subtle "I" Had wrapped the world into its packaged view, The Ego swallowed each great mystery And thought itself the Knower of the true. A moment dawned all time cannot abjure When first I saw Her in Her carven chair, She greeted me with a welcoming 'Bon jour!' The Mother of Creation seated there. And then a mighty transformation came, That turned the being towards its proper course Nothing I was would ever be the same, I lived within the fire and felt the force. All things ugly, all things undivine Were swept away or changed by Beauty's hand. This narrow sight glim

I Must Learn I must learn to live again Discarding sorrow's past And sing the spirit's one refrain Of blessings I've amassed. I must learn to walk again, Recovery is slow, I lived secluded in my pain With nowhere else to go. I must learn to fly again Where dreams are truly real, And demons of the dark are slain On battlegrounds surreal. I must wed laughter and delight Break from this hermit shell, Regain the visionary sight In peace once more to dwell.

I Have Been Witness I have been witness to a thousand births And made acquaintance with the one called death, I have seen beauty unvanquished by his touch And heard in many rooms at the final hour The cosmic silence when the soul departs. Each day I die to all things old and worn To wake to joy that beckons me come forth And live in rapture letting go the past.

The Master Helmsman As a ship ploughs slowly through a starless night So must the soul voyaging through time Confront the darkness in this outer hull, Its driven engine pushing through the seas Of being and becoming, unaware At birth yet seeking though the storm of years Through waves of doubt upon a tossing main To reach a shore beyond the ocean swell Of failure and accomplishment and death, To harbour in the realms of the Divine. The unconscious is a fathomless abyss Unable to be plumbed by mortal mind That rudderless cannot reach the lands Of sunlit calm that open to the seer. Our nature must align with greater stars, We must penetrat

Put Old Memories to Sleep The future calls us but the past Still whispers softly in our ears, Earthly joys and sorrows last, And rivers fill with human tears. Each dawn brings precious gifts to reap, The dream impossible made true And yet within my heart I keep Pained remembrances of you. I hear the inner being call, "No longer in your grief do weep, Chase the demons from your soul And put old memories to sleep."

Born of Light Out of the dark night of the soul once more I breathe beyond that penitential air And far above the clouded mind I soar To regions beautiful beyond compare, The silent places where the being heals And tempered in the hearth the sword of will Wields the truth-word as the morning steals Across the spirit's landscape, calm and still. We must recall the path that led us here, Right attitude allowing grace to flow, Acknowledging light, extinguishing all fear, Accepting that something has our souls in tow. Through consecration surely we shall Know We are born of light and into light we go.

My God My god is the god of music Te beautiful One who sings And plays his tunes so lovingly Upon my spirit's strings. My god is a flower god Sprinkling the earth with hues And fragrances immemorial That sadly we abuse. My god is poetry Who willingly descends Into the hearts and minds of men, Our littleness transcends.

To Sail Towards the Fires of Dawn Is it true that we can only write Of things we have experienced, Is it not possible that we Were here before the world commenced? If an ancient tree from tiny seed Was witness to the changing age Might we not see through inner eyes The visions of the seer and sage? And yet we live with blinders on Favouring the narrow view Fearing unknown foreign lands We leave the harbours that we knew To venture on uncharted seas, Depart the island-nature's home To sail towards the fires of dawn Where the soul in us may freely roam.