Reality
Is a complex illusion –
One where we think
That we have no control,
Where we believe
That we are not creators
Of what we believe.
Reality is what you make of it –
Choose to believe in it or not,
Choose to be a pawn of fate
Or the hand that pushes across the board.
Either way – you are always choosing.
Learn to be a co-creator,
Whisper secret desires
And watch the seeds
You planted flower.
Home is in the smell
After a long journey
Climbing up the same
Narrow staircase,
Peeling and chipped steps.
The welcome scent
That has grown strange
As a distant memory.
Home is where love surrounds you,
Enveloping and washing away
The sore and ache
Carried from worlds away.
Sometimes home
Is not the material construction
But the embrace
Of arms that envelop, protect
And at last again
You feel safe.
We of the world-
Seduced by pleasures.
Enthralled by our image
Reflected
In funhouse mirrors,
Ballooning up to twice our size,
Twisted, contorted
The self reflected on all sides
Ground to sky.
We of the world –
Drinking poison,
As we laugh in that frightened way
To reassure ourselves
That everything is fine.
That creeping slowly
Up our spines –
Is doubt
That we are meant
To live this way.
Panic nipping at our heels
Pushing us forwards,
Faster. Bigger. Greater.
More contorted
Looming larger
Expanding to all sides
Rapid and radically unchained
Like a massive balloon inflating
Darkening the sky –
But a single pinprick –
And poof! We fly
Sometimes I wish
I did not have this gift
Of feeling too deeply
Or caring this much.
When I close my eyes
I see it
Burning, roaring flames
Consuming life ravenously.
When will it be satisfied?
The pain in my heart
Is the pain of this planet
The collective cry
Of millions of animals,
Humans and trees
Reminding us
We don’t deserve what we have.
The teachers say
“Stay present”.
As rain washes down my window
The sky transformed
From ominous gray
To tears pouring
Down and out
Washing the world clean.
Hard-hitting drops
Reverberate against cement
The sky’s released anguish
Echoes across the street.
I close the windows
And the roar becomes a trickle.
But pain demands to be felt
It does not like to be shut out.
Would it be better
To shout at the rain?
Tell it to go away
And stop ruining my day?
Or lie down in puddles till
I’m soaked and refuse
To get dry?
Or to just sit and watch
Quiet and patient
Waiting for it
To pass by.
Gliding along smooth glass
Kayak cutting sharp lines through dark silk.
Rippling with star shine
Glowing with algae
Here where the world is untouched
Where nature holds space
A glittering jewel
Peeking out of the sea.
The light of the full moon
Ripples over the humming inlet
The diamond atop
A diadem of pines
Shadowed against the night sky.
Illuminating all she touches
With cool, silver glow
Blessing travelers, artists,
Lost souls
Who gaze at her for guidance
Dropping a light kiss on their forehead.
Light peeking through leaves
A perfect circle shining
Illuminating vines
And earthy morning goodness
This is what I call – divine.
