The Road to the Beloved Jan. 21, 2011 In the flickering lamplight of this mortal mind That casts more shadows than its light reveals I stand alone surveying dusky fields Of memory allied to humankind. I seem a visitor here, somewhat removed, Distanced from the fury and the fray, The life-force, concentrated, seeks the way To find at last the road to the Beloved.

I Am the Dancer That I might rise above the sorrowed night In which I live abandoned by delight My days to serve in darkness and despair Of inner self recovering its sight, The pain of the recurring centuries In which all gains succumb to death's decrees, A life so brief, so filled with mundane care That small tormenting troubles never cease. And yet a guidance stays with me, a grace, Surrounding wisdom fills this mortal space Approaching feet upon celestial air Descend, and the smile of a beloved face Burns through the veils of human ignorance. I am the dancer and I am the dance.

A Chalice for Divinity To say I am an empty jar Waiting for the Force to fill Is false, am I not full of self, Desire, ego, anger, still? A vessel in a holy place Emptiness is an inner state When spirit takes a solemn vow Acknowledging that one must wait To see his face in every face, His voice upon the sacred air His smile that breaks in child and man His beauty dancing everywhere And love that suffers all through love, No thought of self when all is one, All doubt allayed, all tears, all pain Subsides, the hour of peace begun. The far frontiers draw nearer now, The crown of life's long mystery To free t

A Radiance Unstained Sometimes between my waking and my sleep I see the words outlined upon the page Or hear a music for mortal ears too deep And feel the presence of an inner sage. In moments I hear a voice I know is mine Yet find myself adrift in unknown seas, Or see a face so perfectly divine That suddenly I fall upon my knees And all the world is married in my eyes No fragment that is not in God contained. Then vision fades from these peripheries Above my brow a radiance unstained.

The Downy Woodpecker He tapped upon the window pane With firm and loud staccato sound A downy bird, he came again Who yesterday lay on the ground. I held him weakened in my hand And stroked his back, his wings, his breast Softly that he might understand I spoke of life as I caressed, Encouraging again his flight. He would not leave but wrapped his feet Around my fingers gripping tight, The heart within him strongly beat. I have held birds in whom the light Grew fainter with each failing breath But this one suddenly took flight He had no time as yet for death. I watched him on a nearby tree His grasp was sure,

The One in Whom We Move Soon daffodils will break the crust of earth And crocus flower cheerful in the snow And all these silent harbingers of mirth Will move the heart and everywhere we go The eye arrest, enchant for our delight This earth ablaze with hues that once was bare, Displace the dark hegemony of night. And we shall kneel at peace for in our care Are gardens of a consciousness to build Not yet descended to this mortal zone But waiting till the ego soul is killed, Desire dead, the inner vision grown To encompass life and sanctify with love Our labour for the One in whom we move.

To Live the Light We Are Within Feb. 17, 2005 An inner music tunes the ear To sounds unheard that disappear In the turbulent and noise-polluted mind. When ears are closed to humankind Little there is that we can hear. When we are by confusion led, At every step a dark 'instead' Turns us from the destined way To vanity or roads that stray, And we are less alive than dead. A consciousness that seeks to win (No more to err, no longer sin) From nether forces that control This life, our

One Day I Shall Go Into Each Heart I watch the swallows skim the silent lake And hear the welcome calls on wings drift by, My soul hears all and I in silence turn Towards the flute that sounds my destiny. A silver note upon the wafting breeze A golden tone plucked on a golden string, The urge for light within the towering trees The sweetest music in the heart of spring. But my fate walks in my front and takes my hand, It leads my blind uncompromising soul Towards the burning of a distant land I am drawn a willing servant to my role. If not today then one day I shall go Into each heart and share the joy I know.

One More Step Yes, more than one came to me, Some of their names I can recall, Teachers of the higher way Who entered my dreams as easily As one walks through an open door. I was instructed carefully And often I awoke to sense A vastness in my soul occur, But mind cannot retain the truth Of things that lie beyond its scope And any attempt would but distort The experience of higher states Descending in such clarity That we recognize a higher world More real than earthly vision holds. An air of wonder like a cloak Of peace protecting us surrounds. We have been blessed by presences And guides who are sent to help us take One more st

Poems on Mary Helen's Passing As One Forlorn Oct. 21, 2005 Some see the dead or spirits of the dead Others dream or lie because they cannot see, I neither see, nor dream, nor lie, instead I struggle with the enigma that is me. The rank unsolved equations of my deeds Escape the resolution of my heart, Whatever life is left in me still bleeds And I from all things evil cannot part. What does it matter whether night or day When in the silence one is left alone To grieve for a soul that softly passed away. Is love a sin for which we must at