Truths We Cannot See What wakes in vision are truths we cannot see When mind is occupied with worldly things And dreams are visions too but once removed, Those hidden glimpses of eternity. The sunlight bathes my soul in lambent rays, The forests call me to their dense retreat, The morning sings to me its hymn of praise And earth's green swards beckon my pilgrim feet. Of earth's demand for beauty I am moved And perfection latent in all descended here, And from some inner eye the golden-hooved Stallion bears the flaming Kalki near. Peace comes on me as a Mother's gentle hand, An inner rapture steals the heart to bliss I suff

At My Front Door The bringer of silence in his car of peace Came silently to my front door; I heard him not, the days of ease So filled my mind no witness bore To his sweet call at my front door. O would I now that peace attend I would not stray as I did before When to my pleasure I saw no end And to my grief gave full assent. Three times he knocked, or was it four, Upon the threshold, then he went. What loss if he should come no more! Now in the rush of days I wait Silently to hear his feet, Perhaps tonight when the hour is late And the moon is bright we yet may meet. My soul shall surely recognize The One who

In The Taj Mahal And there were flowers that we thought we knew Familiar blossoms plucked in childhood's days With podgy greedy hands for our delight, Yet unfamiliar in the subtle ways The visionary artist represents Images that only he has seen, A world that in our dreams we hardly know And lonely places where his soul has been. We sang the AUM and from the marble walls The Word came back to us resounding clear Reverberating in our very cells Its echo ringing in the inner ear. We sat absorbed, the spirit rapt in song The too-loud world unable to impose Its dissonance upon the trance-bound soul That merged in sound fe

To One Whose Sorrow Cannot Ebb You have not felt the burden of lonely years Or known in cold nights memory that sears And chills the blood, invades the heart and mind Brings to searching blinded eyes the tears Of relentless sorrow solace cannot bind. You have not seen the servant depart in peace Or watched the cancer of the world increase. The tears you shed are of the ego-kind And nether forces that use as they please Until we grow and higher nature find. There are those descended here who brought the light And placed it in the bowels of the night, And though the clouds of doubt obscure their sun And death retains awhile

A Poem to the OM Choir In This Consecrated Hall 01/17/07 Such joy pervades this night of gathered souls, As if the tread of silent angel feet Quicken the earth and wake from sleep and dream The Presence in the heart of all who sing. A gracious harmony, a pure delight Descends into this living house of God, A music now we hear unheard before Or only in the unattainable spheres; Hearts are charged and holy bodies glow, A force divine unites our disparate lives, In this consecrated hall our oneness find In essence and in offering

Is There a Music? Is there a music to the listening ear Unrecognized as ether to the eye, Is there a sound that every sound contains Whose music guides our human destiny? Is there an ode divine we cannot hear Of which our lives are but a brief refrain, Is there a Singer of celestial song Whose music can assuage our human pain And carry us upon its silver waves, Melt a frozen heart or move a star, Refashion us to sacred harmonies That we may become what we truly are.

Beloved Mary Helen – In Memoriam I held her dying in my helpless arms, Powerless and impotent to save And called upon her spirit heaven's balms. My human love such as it is I gave And every prayer addressing Him I said, To light the pathway to her rest and peace And bless this cherished soul on Death's grey bed And from the body's temple grant release; But mostly prayers of the heart's gratitude. Aware that she was in a state of grace, This moment of life's final interlude That every soul now born on earth must face. I think of the more I might have been and done Unworthy of the love embracing me This aura bri

At Thy Feet The arrows of hate that pierce the heart, I place them at thy feet The lance of words that tear apart The beautiful and sweet, The evil lords who with us play And with our good compete, The higher thoughts that often stray I lay them at thy feet. My ignorance, my pride, my will The errors I repeat The dark that lies within me still I offer at thy feet.

Black Snake I remember the snake I met When raking in the woods. He was shiny and black, All friendliness. He slithered over my shoes As I built a pile of leaves, Then in a burst of speed In a body without hands or feet Movement built on grace, And he was under the pile. He was probably hungry. I moved up the hill, Raking as I went, He came slowly behind me, By my side again Then under the next pile. The boys who helped me that day Came from Mexico. They killed every snake they saw, Not this one in my yard. I never kill snakes. Think of the beauty they hold, The tongue that smells the prey, Stillness and sudden speed.

The Songs of Angels Welcoming I saw as on a cinematic screen The papyrus of all our life unroll Revealed was beauty to the eyes unseen And the never-ending vistas of the soul. Floating through dreams as on buoyant sea, Unteared your face, unstained its radiance, Aglow, attuned to unearthly harmony And plenitudes exceeding sight and sense. Then pain the dark companion came in sleep And with him came the breaking of my heart For death into your weeping cells did seep; I know not why such beauty must depart. Our life of bliss lay shattered in a day When hope had fled to chasm depths unknown To all except the Witness