And the River Runs

From the beginning of Space and Time the River with chimes of heaven

Flowing ceaselessly, knowing its own destiny, showing its creative power

Flanked by banks of life in myriad colors in the period of temporal existence

With persistence to create, defying the fates of ugly gloom and doom

Making no room for defeat, no need to repeat, she sits in the seat of wisdom

And the River runs though it all, filling humanity’s trawl with Light and Love

Ah! From the beginning of Space and Time the River with chimes of heaven

. . . with the chimes of heaven . . .

Radiant Beloved

You are more radiant than the sun, my Beloved,
And I have only begun to sing of your beauty
When my voice takes wing in duty to our love

You deserve more adoration than bright roses
And the light reflected off the mountain lake
At the sight of which I but tremble and quake

You are fairer than ten thousand doves, my Love,
And from above the stars finely shine upon you
So wonderful and true — their service your due

And the moon sings in tune with all the heavens
So leavened with your presence, O my Beloved,
So I dare throw off every care for I am yours . . .

And the Spirit Moves

When the first winds swept the earth, before the birth of humanity,
Before the Great Calamity, she moved across land and ocean deep
With all of its hidden keeps, bidden by her love to breathe out life,
Spirit divine, shining brightly, creating the world as an holy shrine,
Sign of desire, and never to resign from her beautiful, sacred work;
Twas when the earth was young and mirth hung heavily in the air,
And all to prepare a paradisiacal home for the epitome of creation;
And there’s been no cessation of motivation of the same holy Spirit
Since time began as she still flies across the earth, place of our birth,
Breathing life into lifeless souls, filling the holes of hearts torn apart,
Shining more brightly than the light of the sun for those who can see
Through the cross-cleansed lens of faith and have been made friends
Of the Spirit rather than many dead men walking in need and greed,
And acrimony, rancor, enmity and stony hearts as phony creatures
Though they feature themselves as wise teachers ‘n even preachers;
Ah! But the Spirit still sweeps o’er this world and never does sleep
But moves across the land and oceans deep with their secret keeps

The Spirit Blows and Flows

The Spirit blows from where nobody knows
And freely flows there, where nobody knows;
Like the wind bending trees eyes can see,
But unseen winds her way and binds hearts,
And minds and souls, and life of every kind;
Truly, she moves so smoothly and beautifully,
With gentle touch so forceful, so resourceful…

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The Spirit blows from where nobody knows
And freely flows there, where nobody knows;
In and through crowds with all good and true,
Within, without all creation with reverberation;
Breath of Life, death of death, knife of God
To end all strife, tearing down each façade…

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The Spirit blows from where nobody knows
And freely flows there, where nobody knows;
Thru street band shows, over high plateaus,
In the beggar low, and every Hawaiian isle,
Thru birds of the air, and every flower fair;
She moves unseen, known well by the keen…

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The Spirit moves in relation with all creation;
Incarnation, consummation of intimate relation,
Dispensation of peaceful consolation, assumption
Of the dispensation of glorious reclamation…

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The Spirit blows from where nobody knows
And freely flows there, where nobody knows…



Note: Originally published in September 2015; being re-published due to some renewed interest and also just to share with new followers/readers. Enjoy!

Create

Redirect your energy in synergy with the Spirit
Before entropy casts its pall over your heart
Bleeding now with creativity before passivity
Of mind sets in to bind you to bleakest apathy;
Arise and shine; live as branch from the vine,
And entwine yourself with the life-giving Life;
Breathe before you seathe forever your art —
Better part of who you are — and look now afar
At guiding Star you can no longer reach
Across the breach of your languid soul
Create now while it is still day before
Night comes when no one can create…

Remember

Α

Eyes that do not see, ears that do not hear,
Hearts full of fear, and the end oh-so near;
Forgotten days of play, each made of clay
Of the earth, place of birth, mark of worth;
Silent breath, life from death, body numb
Becomes one with soul to plumb the depths
Of being, seeing with the eyes of deities,
From skies above to ocean floor, from doors
Of mountain caves to doors of human homes;
All forgot She begot them and suckled them
And that they live but under hem of garment
Made of moonlight and shining stars so bright.

Remember

Ω

Father Dyēus Weeps

Dyēus stood and broke the silence, looking at the brood and spoke,
“You cannot remember primordial days and the ways I formed mortals
Of sea and land, dirt and sand; cannot remember my hand digging
In watery earth to birth you into life, no cord to cut with knife;
You cannot remember how I led you across the coastline and fed you.
You had no sense of my presence, and made no pretense to be more
Than you were, slipping in and out of brackish water, moving about
Upon the earth so timidly, no home or hearth; but then you learned
And burned with passion, moved across the land, led by my own hand,
And made your bed in valleys and mountains and plains; it was then
You learned pain ~ your dawn of awareness ~ and the yawning grave;
You became more than knaves; you saw me then for the first time
As the bells of heaven chimed. We walked and talked with one another,
Yet I was everywhere; you sensed this, praising me with incense
Even when you could not see me in one form, you knew I could be
In another one, from grass and trees to sun and moon, in biting
Of frost and in the monsoon, in the sky overhead and in the bed
Of flowers fair, in the air and water and wind that bends trees
And scatters their leaves, as the ocean heaves. Everywhere could
You see me and feel me, so when I appeared you would kneel to me.
Now look what has happened; look in polluted brook, ravished hills,
In melting ice caps and thrice cracked earth to extract its worth;
Here now you are plundering and killing my magnificent creation,
Willing me, Dyēus, to die rather than try to save your very own home!
Ah! What an horrible tome to write, no longer knowing wrong from right;
My children, my progeny in the cosmic homogeny, who no longer know. . .

I AM

Sélená and Secrets of Life: Revelation, Part IV

rollinggreen“‘Something is there, hidden in the deep!’
Did weep the ancient sage in the sweep
Of such insightful revelation, so frightful,”
Sélená said as we walked the grass bed.

We stood in lush green rolling hills serene,
Clean, pure with gentle trees and fennels
Filling pretty scene with aromatic delight;
Quiet, smooth-running brook took course
Through the field and forest, ne’er to yield
To any objection or rejection to projection
Of liquid liberty; here was glory complete.

“Mystery wraps the cosmos and all history
And destiny and all glittery fantasy, too!”
Sélená laughed, and then grabbed me tightly
And tumbled us lightly to the soft ground
With hardly any sound, on inclining mound;
“Truly, you will never understand all truth,
For that call is far too tall for any mortal.”

Silent stream meandered like silky dream,
Snaking its way thru the day, like python
In the wild, child of new-birthed earth,
Feeding springs and tall trees with wings;
… with wings, tendrils, seminal tentacles?

Suddenly shrill screeching from nowhere
Tore through the air, and Sélená was up
And on her feet in less than a heartbeat!
Sun seemed to blacken, light shun to an
Enveloping darkness; phantoms swirled
Around us, and hurled lightning lances,
While wraiths pranced upon the goddess!

WarriorW4bWhat horrid scene, so foul and unclean;
No gleen of goodness; only thick screen
Between earth and heaven, and caisson
Of hellish ammunition for the destruction
Of Sélená and me; no more to be, to see;
Of air free to breath, but Sélená seethed
With blistering anger, warning of danger.

Star-sword drawn, moving, deftly swinging
And bringing down dæmons one by one,
Sélená was jungle tigress, wild and free,
Riled to uncontained wrath; bath of blood
— putrid black — flowed down and around
Each of the hills, filling the small valleys
With skein of evil now so skillfully slain.

Ah! tis earth so young from Dyēus sprung,
Where Sélená thought best to bring lover
For much-needed rest…

In the beginning…

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God…

Sélená stood near, and spoke for me to hear amid the wondrous animation of creation:

God

15 - 1[5]In the wind that blows and water that flows…
In the trees that dance and creatures that prance…
In the smiles of people and miles of lush plains…
In the mountains that tower and volcanos of power…
In the sand of seashores and the band that plays…
In the clouds of sky and in the baby’s sweet cry…
In the awesome steeples and goodhearted peoples…
In the giving love of friends and in rain from above…
In the flowers of beauty and those of faithful duty…
In the very air we breath and every care we carry…
In the glory of heaven and every good leaven of life…
In the stars that sing and the great joy they bring…
In the heart of the earth and the birth of new life…
In the charity of the humble, and clarity of truth…
In the bloody cross, and in the peat moss of memories…
In the sphere of grace, and in every face you meet…
In the mercy revealed, and perfect love unconcealed…
In the soft whisper to soul, and in the foot-wash bowl…
In the dying to this lying life to live without dying…

By the brook that trickles round each crook and corner,
By the moss that crawls and every green cos wildly grown,
By the toss of wild sea and every honey-collecting bee,
By the wild jungle-fierce lion and the mild pasture sheep,
By the little girl crying alone and trying to live forlorn,
ChristSophialarge-240x300[1]By the worn taxi cab driver and the torn mega-city survivor,
By the bay of large barges and those who stay night and day,
By the great leviathan of dark depths and stark-slick python,
By the all city gates of glory and slates of mythic stories,
By the fall of false prophets and deposits of religious vomit,
By the call of highest eagle and the goddess of regal summit,
By the lonely soul searching and the goal of truth reaching.

So said Sélená in vision of creation, to offer precision
Of knowledge of wisdom with no derision, only provision
Of sweet truth and peace, an increase of life harmony.
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Note: Selena (GIF) by Carolina Gomez; “Christ Sophia” by Robert Lentz

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