Don’t forget your keys

“Don’t forget your keys!”
She said as he gathered his things
And prepared to leave for the day

Off he went
As he usually did
Early, as the sun was rising

But She was there
As She always was
Even if he tried
To leave before her waking

And grab them he did
Off the table where he kept them
The same place
Every day
Just as she reminded
Each and every day

For he found over the years
And as She perfectly knew
That if he didn’t keep them
In the same darned place
Every time
That he invariably sometimes left
Without his keys
And then he would be stuck of course
And not be able to get back in

Through the doorway he went
Into the great big World
And made his way
With the sun at his back
And the wind at his face

Thankfully he had dressed
For the weather that day
Or at least he thought he did
For where they lived up North
You never knew
What kind of weather might hit

It came suddenly sometimes
First as a mist
Then as a light rain
And then sometimes
If the wind was just right
Or wrong as the case may be
The light rain would turn
Into a full fledged downpour

And up North where they lived
A Rain could be cold
Quit frigid in fact
A biting cold
That swept right through you
No matter what you were wearing
Or even if the sun was shining

But he went about his business
Ran his errands and went to class
Listened to his teachers
Handed in his homework
Which for the most part was done
With care and attention
But not always did he understand
That which he was working on
As the case sometimes was
Even with the brightest and smartest
Of the Students of the World

And some teachers were kind
And warm hearted and nice
And would correct his work
In a gentle way
But other teachers not so much
They would slash and burn
That which he had worked on so hard

And he couldn’t tell really
Which ones he learned more from
The ones that brutalized him
Or the ones that went easy on him
But studied he did
Day after day
And year after year
Slowly and surely
Getting closer to graduation
When studies would be over
And he could enter the World
And find his vocation

But that fateful day
After a long day of school
And after his practice
Which was always a grind
In a physical way
But mental as well
As he fought against his body
And pushed it to its limit
As his coach screamed in his ear
And his teammates struggled to keep up

He had skill no doubt
And thats how he made the team
But his teammates were no joke either
And they kept him honest
Day in and day out
Especially those days
Where he felt like dragging his feet
It was his teammates then
That pushed him hard

And thats how he found his limits
At least the limits of his legs and feet
The limits of his mind
And the strength of his body
How hard and long he could push
Until he was just right there
At the very edge
At the breaking point
Just before
The whole system would fall down
The edge is what he trained for
Its finding and threshold

But he knew
And this was his secret weapon really
That when he was at his limit
His opponent was as well
And this last push
The very last one
Was the one that put distance
Between he and they

They saw him for his skill
For his hands and his feet
But it was his mind
And his spirit really in the end
That got him to the top
And over the finish line so to speak
Just ahead of the other guy
Which was the point of it all
Or so he thought
And so he had been taught

But that day
On his way home after practice
After classes all day
And the pounding by his teachers
And his coach as well
With the rain falling now
And the wind again at his face

He left the University
And starts don his way back Home
The road he had travelled
So many times before

He thought he knew the way
For he had travelled it every day
For so many days
And months and years
That way Home
The Path through the Wood

But he must have taken
A wrong turn somewhere somehow
And he found himself lost
In the Wood that lay
Way beyond
The University and the Courts

And the sun began to fall
Below the horizon
As he searched and searched
For the Path that would lead him
The Path that he knew so well
Through the Wood to his Home
Where it was warm and safe

But deeper he went into the Wood
The Path was lost now
And the trees and thickets
Grew thicker around him
And seemed to close in on him
As if it were alive
As if it were beckoning him
Tainting him even
To Come further and further
Into its very heart

But he kept his composure
As best he could
All the while thinking
For sure he knew the Way
So one foot in front of the other
The Path must be close
The Way must be there

But at some point
After the sun had set
And the moon rose above the trees
And granted him a small lamp in the darkness
He knew that he was lost
That the Way was far off
And the Path he had lost

And he was tired and weary
And the Wind and Rain
Howled in the trees
And came down upon him
Tainting him still
From the branches above

And the ground beneath his feet
Was wet and moist
No beast or fowl
Could he hear in the wood
Not even the chirping
Of any insects around

All had taken shelter
Against the Storm
One that starts slow
But in its persistence
Grows and grows
And creeps up on you
Until it consumes Nature itself
One that seems to seek you out
As if its looking just for you

And as luck would have it
With no knowledge of where he was
Lost in the Wood as it were
A small little Cave he found
An opening in a hillside
That looked oddly familiar
Even though he knew it not

Or so he thought
And in he went
To find shelter from the Storm
Even though he was not a fan of Caves
As darkness was not his friend
Nor is it a friend to many

And he sat finally
And thought he would
Just wait out the Storm
For his legs could take him no longer
And his heart was spent too
Weary after such a long day
And lost he surely was

He could still hear his coach in his ear
“More you little pansy! More! More!”
Pushing him and his teammates
Harder and harder
And he thought maybe
That he had pushed so hard
That his mind had been lost
In those sprints and drills

And that was how he lost his way
In a Wood he thought he knew
On a Path that he had travelled
So many times before

Into a deep sleep he fell
As he curled up on the ground
Resting his head on a rock
In the most comfortable way he could
Even though the ground was wet and damp
Even in the shelter of the Cave

And as the Wind howled outside
And as the Rain came down
Harder and harder outside the Cave
The howling seemed to subside some
As he faded into sleep

And this is where it turns fuzzy
And hazy a little too
As dreams sometimes do
One of those types of dreams
Where you’re not sure if it is real or not
Or when the dream starts
And the real world ends
Or when the real world begins
And the dream has ceased
As the case may be

And in his dream
He heard Her again
“Don’t forget your keys!”
She shouted at him
Through the dim haze
Of the dream that he was in

And after some time
He was not sure how long
He woke again
The Wind still whistling
The Rain still coming down
But somewhat calmer now

And then through the corner of his eye
He thought he saw a dim light
Coming from a small passage
In the back of the Cave
And followed it he did
Because he was curious
And because it was still
Not time to weather the Storm

Further into the depths he went
Down through the narrow passageway
And the passage seemed to beckon him
Call after him in a way
And he followed it deeper
Through its twists and turns

And as he ventured along
Keeping his hand on the wall
To keep his way as it were
But not in total darkness he was
For the dim light still shone
From somewhere beyond the edge
Of that passageway in the Cave

And that was what he followed
Down and down it went
Narrower and narrower it became
Until he could barely fit any longer

And just when he was ready to turn round
When he had enough of this journey
After walking and sometimes even crawling
He finally came
To the source of that dim light

Into a large cavern he came
The narrow passage opened up
And he finally saw
The source of that dim light
It was from these great big icicles of sorts
That hung from the ceiling
Of the great cavern

And they burned with a light
That shone not bright but dim
But altogether was bright now
That he was in a great big space

And then something wonderful he saw
Around him in the cavern
And he almost could not believe his eyes

Drawings and paintings
And markings and designs
That were drawn with great care
That seemed to dance and sing
In the dim light of the cavern

There were beasts and prey
And images and symbols
Geometric some of them were
And phallic too
With Venus like shapes
And half man half beast figures
Carved into the walls and rocks
In a myriad of colors even
Dancing in the dim light
That shone from above

And as his eyes wandered
And his Soul lifted
As he took it all in
He caught out of the corner of his eye
A shape on the ground
In the corner of the cavern
Just across
From the most beautiful of the images
Of the half man half beasts
Just underneath

A drawing of a Woman
Or what he thought was a Woman
With great breasts and large hips
That seemed in a way
To be orchestrating the scene
That he had entered into
As he stood mesmerized
By the artistic display

And then just in the middle
Just on the floor by the image of the Woman
There was this mound
That rested just by the great images
The beasts and shapes

And on the very top
There rested a skull
With a great snout and sharp teeth
Fangs even hanging from its edge
Of some beast or animal
Which he did not recognize

But was fearsome no doubt
In Life before Death
And before it had been mounted
On the floor of that great cavern
In the center of that wonderful display

And he could feel in that moment
A great surge within him
A string tingling up his spine
That filled his whole body
Coursed through him as it were

Culminating in a great energy
That seemed to gravitate
To the base of his head
On the top of his spine
Where it met his brain
And from there emanated
Through his whole body as it were
Up and down through his back
To the edges of his limbs
To his eyes and ears even
Sprouting from the top of his head
Or at least thats how it felt

For a moment or an hour
He did not know how much time had passed
He just knew that that light
That energy and that tingling
Was Good and Just
And Right and True

And then eventually
Into a great silence he emerged
And the tingling subsided
And the light passed through him
Or beyond and above him
Or beneath him or below him
As the case may have been

And he found himself just then
Standing in front of that
Altar of the Beast
An offering to the great Mother
Or at least that was how he saw it

And his mind seemed to connect
To the authors of the scene
He understood what they must have seen
What they must have felt
When the constructed that space
And drew those drawings and pictures
And placed the skull of that great Beast
In the center of its midst

Perhaps they danced and chanted
In that sacred space so many years ago
Beckoning to the spirits
Of the only world they knew
Surrounded by the images
Who were alive and buoyant
All around them in the great cavern
The world which they had painted
Of the only Life they knew

And after some time
After the energy and the tingling
Faded away into the darkness
And the dim light seemed to grow dimmer
And only the silence remained

He knew it was time to go
For he could not stay there forever
And She was waiting
He knew that to be true

And he took one last breath
One last look around
Took it all in
One last time

And off he went
Back the way he came
Into the narrow passage
That had led him this way

And he knew not
How much time had passed
He just knew that he had to go
To find his way back
To his home somehow

And back up the winding tunnel
He went following the Way
That he had come
Until he finally found himself
In that Cave that he had rested in
On that fateful night
To shelter from the Wind and the Rain

And he left the Cave jus then
And ventured again out into the Wood
For he had to make it Home
She must be worried now

So off he went
Back into the Wood
To try and find his way home
To try and find the Path
That led Home

And after walking a little further
His feet now wet all the way through
From the Rain and the Storm
That had finally subsided
Even though the Wind
Still whipped through the trees
As if to remind him
Of the Storm that had come
And raged through the Night

Until in the distance he saw
A great cliff
And the trees and underbrush
Suddenly and abruptly
Came to an end
And he found himself standing
At the very edge
And then he could see finally see
Just how far he had come
There in the distance
He could make out the University
And the Courts too

And he had no idea
How he had gotten that far
And that high even
How he had lost his Way
Or where he even was

For he had never come this way
Even though he knew this Wood
Even though he knew the Path
He knew the Way
Or at least thought he knew

And he turned quite suddenly
As he heard footsteps behind him
Small and light feet they sounded like
Passing through the wet underbrush

And as he turned he saw Her
There She was
With a grand smile on her face
As if to say
“I told you so”

And she said to him just then
With a grand smile on her face
Such warmth and compassion really
But scolding too in a way
“How many times must I tell you?”
“To not forget your keys!?”

And just then the strangest thing happened
A great Light came out from her body
That almost beamed from her smile
From her heart though it appeared
He was not sure

And it was like that feeling
In the cavern that he had ventured into
But greater still was the feeling
That passed through his form
That cur through the very essence
Of his Being as it were

It was hard to describe
But as he stood there on the ledge
It was was pure Love that he felt
Or that was he only word
He could come up with to describe it

The Light connected them
Made the Two One as it were
As it engulfed the whole Wood
And devoured Her and Him

Her Love for him
And his Love for her
That bound them together
In that great Light
In the midst of the Wood
On its very edge

And the Light warmed him up
And he became less weary
And regained his strength
All of a sudden just like that
Almost like he was sitting beside
A hot fire in his living room
After a great warm meal
After a long and deep sleep

And an energy surged through him
Like one he never knew
Like the feeling in the cavern
But greater still

And then all of a sudden
After being immersed in the Light
In this effervescent Love
Everything seemed to fade
The Wood and the trees
And the Light even too

And in that moment
The Wood and the Rain
And the weariness and the longing
And the weight of it all
That he had carried through the Night
Dissolved into the Light
Or so it seems to him

And there She stood
Smiling and beckoning
And chiding him too
After the Light had passed
And he was himself again
Standing just there
At the edge of the Wood
In the morning dew

And he felt very light
In a bottomless sort of way
Like the world beneath him
And his Fears and Longings
Held him no longer
And he felt Free
In a way he had not felt before
And great Joy was in his heart
For a reason he knew not

And as he stood now
Over the cliff at the edge of the Wood
He could now see
Much further and farther
Than he ever knew

Across the University and the Courts
To the world that lay beyond
The one that he was preparing for
The one he had trained for
All those years
And the one that She had told him about
That one day he would venture into

And then as he looked around
To see if She was still there
Or if She was just some apparition of ghost
He could not see Her anywhere
She was gone just like that
Even though he still could hear
The echo of her voice
Piercing through the morning mist
“Don’t forget your keys!”

Just as quickly as She came upon him
She disappeared and was gone
And on his feet and grounded once more
He found himself on that cliff
Standing all alone
As the Sun came up over the horizon

And he reached into his pocket
And he found his keys
Jingling as they did
In a way that only his keys could do
In his pocket
The same one that he put them in
Each and every day

And then in the distance
He began to hear a chime
A great horn it sounded like
Off in the distance
But getting closer
And closer
Louder and louder

A fear rose up in him
And then a little despair
For the great horn sounded familiar
A calling in a way

And then in flash
Of awareness and familiarity
He knew that noise
Knew its source and its purpose

And he woke just then
In his bed at Home
It was the alarm
That woke him every morning
The one that stole him
From his dreams in the Night

And as he turned and looked through the window
Just beside his bed
He could see the glowing morning sun
Raising up over the horizon

And he wasn’t cold and wet
Although maybe his feet were just a tad
But he was warm and cozy still
Being covered with blankets
In the comfort of his bed
In the safety of his Home

But the Wood and the Cave
And the cliff as well
Still lingered in his Mind
Drifted away as dreams do

They were gone just like She was
Even though he could still hear Her
In that beautiful voice
One that sang to his Soul
One the echoed from his dream
And the Light the great Light
That warmth and joy
He could feel that too
Even though it faded as well
Just like the darkness of the Wood

And as he moved to get up
To begin his day
And he shook off that dream
And it faded and faded
Until it was just a whisper
The dark Wood and the Cave
The Rain and the Wind
The Light and the great beast
And the images in the cavern
In the depths of the Cave

But as he readied himself for the day
The dream still lingered some
And he hoped that just maybe
He would find Her one day
And hear her voice
And maybe see the Light

And that in the end
Is the story of his keys
And why he kept them
In the same darned spot every day
On the table by the door
So that he would not forget them

Because he could still hear her voice
Reminding and scolding him
“Don’t forget your keys!”
With the wry smile
Of Hers that warmed his heart

“Yes, yes, yes…”
He muttered back to Her
Or to himself he was not sure

And off he went
Leaving his Home behind
And into the great World that beckoned

And the sun shone bright
And the Wind was gentle
And Rain was nowhere to be found
Just the Path in front of him
And the Way that he knew
And his keys in his pocket
So he could find his way Home

What can we do?

We look around and what do we see?
As we live our little boxes in the sky
Or our homes that we build on plotted our land
With food processed and shipped
And the environment raped to serve our needs
Until Earth herself cries out in anguish
As her forests are pillaged
And her seas exploited
And all the wonderful beasts and other wonders of life
Disappear from our planet at an ever alarming pace

But we shuttled down these high rises
We commute on trains and buses and automobiles
To get to our place of business
Which provides us the means to live
The currency to exchange for goods and services
That serve all our wants and desires
And the wants and desires of those who depend on us
To try and make it easier and better for those that depend on us
The next generation
But what d we teach them?

In our elevators and subways
Filled with clones just like ourselves
Glaring into their cell phones
Virtually connecting
With friends and colleagues perhaps
Who have well crafted personages
That show the world the pieces of ourselves
That we want them to see
Hiding behind these virtual walls
All sharing the same fears
And all looking for the same love
Which seems to slip through our fingers
That grains of sand
The tighter we grip, the more quickly it fades

Or perhaps they are simply waiting for that one message
That one like or that one comment
From that one special someone that we used to hold so dear
That will just never arrive
For to them we just filled a need a certain period of time
Satisfied that desire until it became too much
Or they just tired of us and wanted to move on

These are human emotions and challenges
That we all share
And yet we sit in our shells thinking
That our problems are real and unique
And to hell with everyone else
For if capitalism is nothing else
It is every man for himself
For the good of the economy
Which only serves to line the pockets
Of those whose pockets are so deep
They could not reach the bottom with a ladder

But we hope beyond hope
That we seek and what we are after
Will provide that elusive happiness
That is the whole purpose of this silly game now isn’t it?

From the very beginning, it was about survival
We were given brains and smarts
We built tool and weapons
And clothes and shelter
We formed social groups and gatherings
That banded together and foraged together
And protected each other in times of warfare and famine
All bound by the great laws that Darwin ‘discovered’
That allowed of the strongest of the species to propagate
To give the next generation the best possible chance to survive
By natural selection he called it
Nature’s way of giving us a chance
To live on

Qualities such as strength and protection
Prerequisites to dominance and the creation of territorial boundaries
To ensure access too food and other resources
That would allow our tribe to survive and maybe even thrive
And provide a better world for those that came after us

All of these things have been wired into us
Since we evolved from the chimps
So many millions of years ago
Without these traits
These means of survival
We would not be around today to talk about how great we are
And how great a nation we live in
And how our interests need to be protected
At all costs
Even if that means taking the war to the enemy
Overseas at great expense
To the taxpayers and the men and women of service
Who give their lives for this ‘just’ cause
Creating the mounting debt
Which in the end just lines the very same pockets
Of those that ‘protect’ our national interest

Is this no different
Than those that forced the draft upon us in Vietnam
That fought and battled in the shadows of the cold war
To the Muhammad Ali’s, Gandhi’s and Martin Luther King’s of the world
Who made great sacrifices to stand up for what they believe in
To fight for the the injustices in their homeland
To stand up against the interests of power
Who even to this day keep this great social divide in place
To serve their interests
And keep the naysayers at bay
With their powerful lawyers
And the legislative branch at their disposal
As they fill their coffers for their next election

To fight the fight of all fights
Muslim, Christian, Jew
Black, White, Yellow
None of that mattered
These great prophets, Jesus included,
Made these great sacrifices
So that the people that followed int their footsteps
hight live win a more human world
With perhaps just a trace of empathy
For our fellow man

Is this no different then
This system of ours and our great laws and justice system
Than the Great Books that were written
Inspired so they say even in ancient times
The Qur’an and the Torah
The Bible and the Bhagavad Gita
All meant to inscribe and instill
National and religious pride in its members
Laying claim to the one true word,
The One true God
Which surpasses all others
And who has handed down laws, commandments even
Which we must obey
Or face the wrath of the Lord
To protect the status quo

Look closely my dear friend
Look closely at how and why and who crafted these Great books
And what you invariably find is that they are designed to protect
Those that have power from losing it
And give them at the same time to enforce their will
Upon those that defy it

We must say yes
The rule of law and the creation of an International body of ‘peacemakers’
Is certainly a step forward
In the evolution of man and the spreading of some form of justice
To all around the globe
Even though we all know that those that are ‘protected’
And those that are not
Are separated by economic interest and national gain
Just like those the home

One of the truly great things about America no doubt
Is our self proclaimed ‘freedom’
But freedom from what exactly?
Freedom to speak our minds without risk of banishment or imprisonment?
Sure we can say what we want but what are the consequences?
Ask Curt Shilling after being let go from ESPN after a Tweet
About whether or not gender neutral, or perhaps better put gender confused,
Should be allowed to determine which bathroom they go into

Our freedoms constrained by the deep pockets
Of those to whom our attacks are directed
And while this system of law may seem fair in how we present it to the rest of the world
When you line up the lawyers and draft the court documents
It is invariably the ones with the deeper pockets and the greater commitment to their cause
That win the day in the end
Which more often that not, more often than we wish to admit
Is to protect the staus quo, and ensure the rich and powerful remain so
And that the people that serve them
Stay inter rightful places
The caste system of the 21st century
Is created before our very eyes
But we fail to see it, and we call it freedom
As if we fool everyone into believing it to be so

While teams of lawyers get behind various causes of ‘injustice’
Class action lawsuits ensure
Thousands and even millions of dollars are spent
In the name of justice and freedom
But really its to empower the lawyers
And laden their pockets full of money

And game this system of justice that we hold so dear
That has now been so saturated with lawyers and thieves
And the makers of the laws themselves
Follows to the later the advice and instructions of the powerful lobbying forces
Funded by major corporations that want nothing more
Than to keep things just the way they are
To protect their power, to protect their money
And keep their bubble world
Insulated from the harsh reality and conditions of the 99.9%
Who struggle to pay rent and put food on the table
And who try desperately to educate their young
And keep them off the streets
And out of the prisons that they all seem to end up in

Is this no different then
Then the story told in the Bhagavad Gita
And how it espouses Arjuna to fight
On the eve of battle and do his duty, follow his dharma
Obey and accept his station in life
So that those in power can stay in power
And that everlasting life, enlightenment itself can be his
If he just just stands and fights
A ‘just’ war for a ‘just’ cause

And the Judeo-Christian faith, and the Muslims too
The Church perhaps, the worst offender of them all
In the name of peace and love and faith in God
Who had their great crusades
Under the guise of Religion
But with empirical ambition the real reason behind it al
Jesus was put to death on the cross
Muhammad built his kingdom
Moses led his people from Egypt

No doubt these religious movements
Brought these peoples together
Unified them and established great city-states, nations and alliances
Bound by common religious beliefs
The great opiate of the masses

But why? To what end?
For the construction of empires of course
And the mass of wealth for those that ran those empires
The same story told over and over again
Where now even one wonders if the story can be changed
It is so ingrained in our society
So ingrained in our system of government
Here in the West and the East
One undertake guise of democracy, freedom and capitalism
And the other undertake guise of Religious statehood and Divinely inspired law

And we look from the West
With the sharia law we see
Yes it is barbaric in some cases
No doubt the stoning to death
Of women who marry without parental consent
Is bestial by any moral or ethical standards

But a democratic nation, a capitalistic one
The one we live in and find ourselves caught in
How much better is it really?
For what we have gained
In a system so fraught with greed and lust for power
That entire regulatory bodies have had to be created to reign it in
Even greater substantiating the financial burden of its citizens
As we prepare ourselves for the next major bailout
Of the financial firms that are simply just too big to fail
Line the pockets of the great new aristocracy
We have created modern times

Muhammad’s laws are dated no doubt
As most certainly are those of Moses
The Church is coming along
But still has its political motives
As it fills its own coffers in the Vatican
And looks to convert followers

And so we are left with one question, maybe two
What can we do? What is our purpose here?
Whereas the ancients that was a simpler question
Which started with survival
And progressed with the ‘advancement’ of civilization
To the pursuit of individual happiness
Which could be found in the study of ethics
Alongside the design of the perfect society
Ruled by the philosopher king in Plato’s words

Which in today’s parlance is simply Tyranny
With a naive faith in the Tyrant’s ability
To act into best interests of its people
Which runs entirely against millions years of biological evolution
Which has wired us to take care of our own first
At the great expense of others as needed
This is the mark of the human race
The true character of the human being
Homo sapiens, God’s great creation.

This is the true legacy of the Greeks in a way
Not Democracy or Philosophy
It’s the breaking down of knowledge into such small and tiny portions
Such that true knowledge and wisdom
Which Socrates so humbly professed he knew none of
And humanity and its relationship with nature
Has been almost completely lost
And hangs on by the thinnest of threads

In all the divisions and distinctions
And different modes of thought
That all subserve mother Earth and her fruits
To the pursuit of the pleasures of mankind
Backed by the Great Book
Handed down from God to Moses
Genesis all but tells us this
That these beasts and plants
These creatures of the sky and the water
Were given over to us to have dominion over
And use as we wish
And that we have done
Leaving the spirit of these beautiful verses
That have inspired us for two thousand years
In the hamper in the trash
While we continue to milk Mother Earth and all her inhabitants
Until one day they will all be gone
And the err of ways will finally be looking us in the eyes
And we will have no answer
But claim only perhaps that it was the prior generations
That did not set things straight
And perhaps they will be right

And where have we come after all these centuries?
What have we really progressed into?
What have we truly gained?
Take out Chinese – check
Mobile phones and Facebook – check
FaceTime with friends all around the world – check

And a loneliness and detachment that is beyond our imagination
As we walk through this world with our headphones on
Tuning out to the homeless on the street
And all the passers by
Ignoring all the angst and frustration
That is almost brewing over the cauldron of our cities
It can be seen in the hostility and anger
That is shout between and among fellow citizens
Ss they fight to make a red light or find a parking spot
Just to get to work
Where they can chase that mighty dollar

Perhaps Montana, Utah, Colorado, Washington, Canada even
Are all different.
Where you get a hey or a wry smile when you pass by
And humanity, what makes us human, the human condition itself
Is shared in a passing moment filled with a quick glance between total strangers
As a door is held open
As a dropped paper is picked up
As a smoke is lit by a strange
As a dollar is dropped in the cap of someone whose life has left them homeless

What can we do?
But plow on and do our duty
Provide for those that count on us
And make the sacrifices necessary to do
Use whatever means possible
To make good on our compromises
While still holding on to some moral and ethical creed
That brings us to the rest of humanity
And to the rest of the creatures we share this beautiful planet with

And keep our judgments to ourselves
And be not greedy with our well wishing
With our hellos and goodbyes
With our ‘have a nice days’ exchanged to strangers in elevators and on the street

Make the world a better place
Starting and ending with you and how you treat people
And battling those demons inside you that make you just want to run away
Run away with all the hatred that became calcified in your heart

Turn the other cheek he says
That is his greatest dictum
Not that he rose from the dead
But that he taught us the ultimate sacrifice

That for a friend, to back him up and love him still
After he betrayed you and gives you up to the authorities
The very same people you were rising up against
Even if that meant being dragged through the streets
Carrying the very same cross that he was to be nailed to
To suffocate to death in excruciating and unimaginable pain
To hold fast to his beliefs in love and truth
No matter what the cost

We need not be martyrs
We can not all find that strength
But we can be nice and kind
And forgive those that trespassed us
Just as we wish to be forgiven by those that we have trespassed
And pray that tomorrow we may be a better person
Than we were today

And maybe at the very end
As well all slowly march to that imminent doom
When the show is over and the lights go out
We might have made a difference in this world
And can find peace at last

Spirit of the Game

The lines are drawn
The rules are set
The racquets in hand
The balls are in play

The points are played out
Within the confines of the court
And the strategies are employed
To find the weak the spot of the opponent
And to try to find a way
To have your strengths dictate play

And points turn into games
Individual battles for points
Which turn into fights for games
And for every ball you chase down
Your opponent undoubtedly finds a way
To bring it back to a place
That puts him in the position
To find that weakness
So that he can strike you down
And bury that ball into the corner
And dishearten your spirit

One point at a time
One game at a time
The battle ensues
The the game of skill takes place
But under each and every stroke
Is a battle of wills
A battle of the heart
That takes place just the same

And theses battles for points
Turn into battles for games
And each game that is won
Puts you closer to a set
A set of game that must be won
In order that the opponents will be broken

There is no room for weakness here
There is no room for mistakes
Each point that is fought
Must be a battle for life itself
And in the opponents eyes
Fear must be seen
In order that he be broken
Spirit and will be cracked
Such that these games turn into sets
And these sets turn into matches
And the opponent can be vanquished
And the next opponent be met
With the same intensity
The same tenacity

Each and every point
Each and every game
Each and every set
Must be played as if it is your last
And in so doing
The true spirit of competition
With the utmost respect for your opponent
With the utmost respect for the game
Can be found and held onto
With a firm and tenacious grip

And if these very simple truths
Are held onto in every moment
One can find a peace and a harmony
In this battle of wills
And one might come to realize
That what is being fought for
Is not victory necessarily
But a gratitude in the ability to play
At the highest of levels
With the deepest concentration
And the gravest of respect

For a game with a ball
Between a give set of lines
With a basic set of rules
That have been established over the centuries
To pit one man again another
in a game of skill and precision
But more importantly in a test of wills
In a test of the heart

And the deepest and strongest
Sense of competitive spirit and will
Is found not in the end game
Not in the goal to win
But in the beauty of the competition itself
In the dance of two souls
As they parry and pounce
With their swords of play
Against the yellow fuzzy balls
That are the weapons of warfare
In this game of tennis

And perhaps one day
After years of practice and training
Preparation for matches and tournaments
One can find a peace and respect
For the game itself
And the beauty of the perfectly struck ball
The perfectly constructed point
Or the pure joy and bliss
Of architecting point by point
Game by game
The demise of your opponent
As his weaknesses are exploited
Your strengths are exhibited
And the will of the competitor
Is worn down to its thinnest point
And you have him broken
And the match is yours

But no doubt every opponent
Will be as prepared as you
And will be willing to go the distance
To run through walls
To push his body to the limit
To put his strengths against your weaknesses
And break your will
So that the games can be his
And the match can be taken from you
And so that he can move on
And put you in the abyss of loss
In the misery of defeat
As you watch your competitor move on
And you go home to lick your wounds

But this very game of wills
This exchange of ball after ball
On this court with its lines and rules
With the gamesmanship and the cheating
And the intimidation and hardship
That your opponent will no doubt instill
Is no less that the game of life
Where each point must be life or death
And that in the loss of a point
The lesson can be learnt
And the mind can move on
Accepting that the lost point is in the past
And all you have
Is the next point to play
And all you can do
Is the best that you can
To put your best effort into every shot
Every ounce of energy in that body of yours
Into each and every shot
From the moment the match starts
Until the moment the match ends

And in this effort
The glory of life can be found
As the bliss of the zone
Is entered into seamlessly and effortlessly
For as the focus and the rhythm
Is found in your game
In the small rituals that we practice
Between points and games
And the peace and rest is garnered
When you change sides and take a breath

This is the game life that is played
It is no other than the microcosm
Of this grand play that we have been cast in
And all once can do
All one can hope for
Is that we play with dignity and respect
Not only for the game itself
But for the opponent who stands against us
And for the will and the spirit inside us
Whose spark comes form no other
Than the source of it all

As Easy as One, Two, Three

Numbers are an interesting thing really
One could, elementarily (both figuratively and definitively)
Break down the Western and Eastern ways of thinking
Into as easy as 1, 2, 3 – A, B, C

Pythagoras starts with the Monad,
From which the great dichotomy arises
These are the great forces of Yin (female, receptive)
And Yang (male, creative) of the East
The worlds of Heaven and Earth
The Darkness and the Light

But it is just as telling as to what is missing
As what is part of these ancient systems
No Monad exists in the East
From which the two archetypical forces emerge
While our Western tradition (Judeo-Christian)
Speaks of a great and benign spirit
That breathes life onto and throughout
The watery abyss (Apsu of the Egyptians)

This Monad became our God
And closed the universal boundaries with it
From One to Two
And to Two a third Force was added
To give us the Holy Trinity
The Greek Logos
Universal Mind – Nous
An underlying world order
The Maat of the Egyptians
Plato’s Good

And then this Three transforms to the base
Of the Perfect of all geometric forms
The equilateral triangle
The three become Four
And the structure of the Tetractys (the Decad) is complete
Earth, Air, Water, Fire
The elements that make up creation
Draw the final boundaries of the universe
All embedded and interwoven
Into the grandest of all gifts of the human mind

But While Yin and Yang have their counterparts in the West
What developed there was a very different thing really
Not a cosmological creation story that bound the universe
With a beginning, middle and end
That needed a Creation Story, a Messiah and a Line of Prophets
That chain the word of God along the generations of men
Until one day a final judgment comes
And the end of the world as we know it is before us
And our Creator Judges us each and every one

What developed in the East
Was a manual, a guidebook on how to live
A manual that reflected the universal world order
That the worlds of Heaven, Earth and Men were intimately connected
And that one must search for balance and harmony
Between and among these seemingly disparate worlds
This is the what we call in the West the I Ching
Or also named The Classic of Changes (Yi Jing)

This is how the trigrams were originally conceived
As broken (Yin) and solid (Yang) lines
Denoting various combinations
Binomial combinations in base 2 and 3
Of yin and yang lines
That have motion and have being
And have status and material existence
But in a fleeting sort of ethereal way
For everything is always changing (Yi)
In this Eastern view of the world
The only thing that can be said to truly exist in fact
In this system of thought that reaches far back into antiquity
Is Change (Yi) itself and a Way (Dao or Tao) to follow it or traverse it

So in the Eastern Cosmological system
If we can even call it that
After Darkness and Light are created
Yin and Yang come together
To form the four basic elemental states of being
Greater Yin, Lesser Yin, Lesser Yang, Greater Yang

This is how it is handed down to us
According to the Ten Wings
That Confucian epilogue to the Zhouyi (I Ching/Yi Jing)
Which were attempts by later scholars
To make sense of the esoteric and ancient symbolism
That came forth from the River Lu (Lo Shu)
On the back of a great tortoise
And walked out of the Yellow River (He Tu)
Carved in Jade on the back of a great horse

And from these four states
The eight trigrams come forth (Bagua)
As each of the four elemental states
Is connected with a third line
That is either broken (Yin) or solid (Yang)
To form a band of eight symbols
Three lines each – the trigram

Which when all connected and drawn out
With their dark and light, yin and yang, broken and solid lines design
Into a wheel, a circle
That has no beginning and has no end
But has various formulations
Like the Earlier Heaven sequence of Fu Xi
Or the Later Heaven sequence of King Wen

But in the East there is no Monad
There is simply the interplay of these two opposing forces
Constantly searching and striving for balance
And the Two are not acted on by a third force
There is no Logos or Nous that brings order to the world
Simply the greater combinations of Yin and Yang
Which serve to add flavor and color
To the play of the basic forces of dark and light
Creative ad Receptive
Expansive and Retractive
Inbreathing and Outbreathing of Brahman
The Vedic sages (Rishis) would call it

In the Yi Jing it is said that
Two to the power of One
Transforms into Two to the power of Two (Four)
Greater and Lesser Yin – Greater and Lesser Yang

And then these Four (again Two to the Power of Two)
Becomes the Bagua (literally ‘eight symbols’)
Two to the Third or Two Cubed
Which forms the holistic cosmological world order
Hence rests all of Chinese philosophy
Who mind you adopted Buddhism and called it Zen

But the Daoist lives on
In Medicinal circles mostly now
For the Zhouyi (I Ching) is not consulted
As it once was
But it is left as an artifact of days gone by
When witchcraft was practiced
And astrologers were thought
To have great powers of sight

And with Two to the Power of Three
One is given Eight – the Bagua
Laid out in various circular arrangements
That describe the workings of the universe
The creative, destructive and structure of balance and imbalance
The passage of the seasons throughout the year
The context of the family and social unit
Which is meant to guide our every day life
And human society at large

All within the context of the three-pronged belief
That the worlds of Heaven, Earth, and Man
Are intrinsically, deeply, spiritually and physically connected
In ways beyond comprehension
Of the small human mind
But yet could be mapped out and understood
In a very basic and elemental way
Based upon solid and dashed lines
Working their energies against and with each other
Which inspired Leibniz
Some two thousand years later
To come up with a binary system of 1s and 0s
That now forms the basis of all automated processing
Of every machine created by man
That now touches every corner of the globe
And every human being

So what we have from the East then
Is the Fu Xi (Earlier Heaven)
And King Wen (Later Heaven) circular sequences
Of the grand Bagua
The forces of Heaven, Lake, Fire and Thunder
Acting and Balancing the forces
Wind (Wood), Water, Mountain and Earth

Laid out in a whirlish dervish sort of fashion
Which yielded the great Yin/Yang symbol we know so well today
The Symbol of Daoism (Taoism) and Yin/Yang Philosophy
Black and White molded together
In a grand and endless circle
Each with a sprinkle of the other that sits within its center
That looks like one white and one black fish
Each with an eye of the color of its sibling
Swimming around endlessly in a small fish bowl
Within which the universe is encapsulated and fulfilled
All at once and at the same time

The Chinese way then
Starts and ends with the idea of Change
As the ceaseless and only thing that can be said to truly exist
In various forms and states, indicated by trigrams and then hexagrams
States leading to states and balance leading to disharmony
And then back to balance and harmony again
In this constant struggle and exchange
Between opposing and complementary forces
The Creative and Receptive,
Dark and Light
Forces which rest within and without and everything in between

Its Eastern immanence
Versus Western transcendence
And it starts with those very basic numbers
One, Two, Three
And how they are combined
And constitute the manifested universe as we perceive it
As it truly can be said to exist
And the A, B, Cs behind it
That explain the world order

For both the Eastern and Western ancient mystics
Saw and Believed
That it was through the the most beautiful construct
Conceivable by the human mind
Numbers and Geometry
And their successive progression and combination
Into more and more beautiful symmetry
And more and more complex combinations
To which the natural universe
Has a deep mystical esoteric connection
That is only barely fathomable
By the mind of man

Or so they thought
And so it was written
And here we are

The Mad Hatter

We chase these dreams
We run from these demons
In this grand illusion
This great game
That has been set before us

So many of us
Find all sorts of reasons
Causes and excuses
Why this is that
Why things are not where we want
Why we have been given a raw deal
Why the pieces or the rules
Are not fair and just

And yet how much of this game
Is not just played out in our mind
Exists only in the mind?

This is the age old question really
What Aristotle so very vehemently
Argued against in his teachings
That the world of Universals
The world of Forms
Is contingent on actuality
On reality and substance
Not the other way around

This very subtle difference
This very hint of change of worldview
Set in motion so very long ago
By Aristotle after Plato
Laid the groundwork in fact
For what can be looked upon
As the opposing two sides
Of the realists and the idealists
Which forms the basis
Of all metaphysical inquiry
Even today

Does the journey start and end in the mind?
Or is the mental landscape
Simply support for the real life we experience?
Which is more real?
The Ideas of life that pass through our minds
That form opinions
And shape our surroundings
Or the surroundings themselves
That are perceived through the senses
As the scientists would have us believe?

It begs the question
Of cognitive experience
A set of chemical and physical reactions?
Or the ground of reality
Is consciousness a real thing?
Or is it another illusion of the mind?

While these questions might appear
Too lofty and high browed for some
In the end we will no doubt be faced
At the very doorstep of death
When experience and the senses
Fold back upon themselves
Presented with this very same question
As to what is real and what is to be trusted

Dust to dust and ashes to ashes?
Does it all simply fade away?
Is there no hereafter?
Does the journey end
When the last breath is drawn?

Maybe there is no answer
Maybe these theoretical questions
Have no merit beyond intellectual gymnastics

And yet here we stand
Left alone with our thoughts and desires
And the world around us
Which appears at times to be against us

And we must shape these circumstances
Shape these relationships and these tools
And our physical and mental reality
With what we have and what we know
What we believe to be so

And from where does knowledge arise?
From this very same place
From the mind itself

The shaper of life
The former of things
The creator of ideas
The means to communicate them
The ground of civilized man

Leading to the very same question
About whether or not
Inquiry itself as a tool of man
Has its uses but also perhaps has a limit
A capacity to the help it can provide

After which it leads to madness

Beginner’s Mind

The odd thing
Is that every Westerner
Approaches the practice of meditation
With a goal in mind
Without exception

The even odder thing
Is that from an Eastern point of view
[Particularly Daoist/Zen Buddhist
Which are very related and symbiotic traditions]
This misses the entire point
Not part of the point
The entire point
Of meditation practice

Reflect on that for a moment
Because it’s important
If you are a practitioner
To understand this very simple
And yet at the same time subtle
Extremely relevant and critical point

There is no goal to meditation practice
To the true practitioner
To the Master
The great sage as the ancient texts refer to them as
The Rishis of the Vedic tradition
The ancient shaman really

Nirvana, Enlightenment, Samadhi
And other illustrious powers and visions
Which many many practitioners hope to obtain
Or even to the poor old soul
Who struggles with mental anguish
And is looking for some peace and relief
An escape from the trials of life
Or those that wish to lead
More successful and empowering lives
And believe meditation
Through the clarity of mind
Will help them achieve those goals

Indirectly or directly
Doesn’t matter which
This misses the entire point
Which is the very point
Of this poem if you can call it that

The purpose of meditation
The purpose of life
Is to lead the best life
The one that is most fulfilling
And one that is full of as much joy
And happiness as possible
Aristotle’s arete (Greek: ἀρετή)

This was the absolute primary purpose
Of the writings of the almost all
Of the ancient philosophers
From around the globe
From Confucius, to Mencius, to Laozi
To Plato, Aristotle and the Stoics
And even to the Hindus

[With Vyasa and the Rishis
And the Bhagavad Gita and the Upanishads
In a less direct way
More Confucian in a sense perhaps
Given the Vedic emphasis on ritual (li)]

Meditation practice then
Is not the means to some sort of end
It is the end
The practice and life are not different
Practice and Life are the same

We are so goal oriented here in the West
That not for any given moment
Can we actually find happiness
Even while it stares us in the face
Because it is always somewhere out of reach
Due to some inadequacy that has been identified
By the relative ego and its constant comparison
To the ideal self
Which does not nor ever will exist

This is my problem with the materialists
The causal principalists who claim
With their authoritative academic voices
And all their scholarly credentials and degrees
That the only reality is the physical reality
That which can be measured and quantified

Hence their loss in madness
And why quantum theory is so powerful a model
That they just don’t understand
Where causality and determinism themselves
Need to be abandoned in order for the model
To make any sense whatsoever

Unless they just call it a mathematical theory
That predicts results (Copenhagen interpretation)
And say that it says nothing about the ‘real’ world
Which is nonsense in and of itself
Or you get the other just as lunatic conclusion
That the math does in fact represent ‘reality’
And therefore there must be multiple realities
That exist simultaneously
Of which ours is the only one
That we know about or have access to


These seemingly logical and rational
Mathematically coherent and consistent
But at the same time completely nonsensical
Conclusions are all necessary and determined by
The fact that experience and Being (Aristotle’s)
Are considered to be ontologically subservient
To quantifiable and measurable results
And ‘observable’ phenomenon
Along with the predictability of outcomes
Of other various measurement phenomenon
Upon which all reality is not only based
But upon which the borders of reality itself are drawn

While all this sounds pretty complicated
The point here is that the Eastern view
Not only considers subjective phenomenon to be real
It considers experience itself to be
The primary, and in fact only,
Definition of Reality that is possible
And the only thing that is true about this definition of Reality
Is that it changes constantly
And the experience of the subject
Cannot be distinguished from in any meaningful way
The object of attention or awareness or intellectual understanding
That is yielded from
Is created and born from
Each and every individual experience
That each and every individual has
In each and every moment
Of their separate but totally interconnected lives

This is why Change (The I Ching)
Is so important and telling
Given its primary significance in the Eastern tradition
And virtually the only book that embeds with it
Some sort of cosmological theory
[If you can call it that]
And why it is so hard for Westerners
To understand what the purpose of the word is
Why it lasted so long and is such an elementary part
Of every form of theology or philosophy
That has emerged from the Far East

Because it doesn’t really ‘say’ anything
It (and by it i mean the act of consulting the I Ching)
Simply identifies a specific situation
Within the cosmic order of Heaven and Earth
Via the enactment of a certain ritual
Which includes Fate and the Observer
In the very process by which
A specific hexagram is selected
Out of a series of fixed and finite
But at the same time completely interrelated
Set of symbols that describe the attributes
Of a given circumstance

The event (the selected hexagram)
Most accurately reflects the current situation
Depending upon the question that has been posed
To the Book of Changes

By this process
The cosmological experience
And one’s place within it as it occurs
Has manifested itself and can be understood
Within the overall set of cosmic experiences
And their interaction and constant flow into and out of one another
Each with their own balance and assortment
Of Yin and Yang elements
Constantly working together
Which began at the beginning
When the world was created
Which to the Eastern mind
Has no beginning
And has no end

After this consolation and interpretation
After this ritual is performed
An advanced practitioner
A priest in the Western sense
Can provide the person, the leader or aristocrat in ancient times
A better understanding of the current situation
And make recommendations regarding
What can be done to achieve greater harmony and balance
Between yourself and Heaven and Earth
Which yields happiness or contentment
Which is again the very goal and purpose of life

So where you ‘are’ in the cosmological universal experiences
Along with where you are heading
As described and bound by
The 64 hexagrams of yin and yang
That make up the Book of Changes then
Can reveal how you might
Move toward more balance and harmony
Between Heaven and Earth
And the ‘ten thousand things’
As wànwù is commonly translated
And the individual
By honing the practice of virtue (ren)
May achieve happiness
The Eudaimonia of the ancient Greeks
And thus can not only find happiness and purpose
In their individual lives
But also can construct
A harmonious and happy society
Along with it

But as usual we have lost our way
Or our wu wei (non-action, non-doing)
As the case may be

The point here is that
The purpose of meditation
Is not some sort of goal
Or any other goal
Than to lead a better life
Lead the best possible life

And to the Easterner
The Daoist and the Zen Buddhist
The only reality there is
Is the one that is sitting in front of you
At this very moment
Which is why mindfulness
Is so important in the Buddhist tradition

As also is emptiness
Which is basically is the opposite
Of the ancient Chinese word wànwù
Or ‘ten thousand things’ or ‘myriad of things’
As it is usually translated
Or at the very least
Emptiness can be considered to be
The origin and source
Or perhaps better put
Universal backdrop of
These ten thousand things
And what we in the West call Reality

So at some point the practitioner comes to realize
And it doesn’t happen in a moment
Because realization itself
Understanding and knowledge
Have many many levels
As Socrates last teaching showed us
That the wisest among us
Knows the least

That while we may speak of how
The end is not the goal
And it is the journey which is the whole purpose
The whole way to find the meaning of life
The holy Grail as it were

To be able to truly comprehend this fact
Gives us the illumination
That in fact our practice and our life
Are not two things but are one thing
And that the more they blend
And the more they complement each other
Our thoughts are not distractions from the View
They are the View

They, these thoughts that page us so sometimes
Are in fact the divine manifestations
That dwell within and originate
And flow out of and from Universal Mind
Into our own individual small minds
This is the Brahman and Atman
That the Vedic Rishis speak of
Which sits within (and without)
Coexists in fact
In each and every soul
And every animate thing
That can be said to exist

So with this sort of mindset then
These thoughts as they arise in our practice
Can be accepted for what they are
Manifestations of Mind within mind
And our emotional attachment
Or perhaps better put emotional reaction
To these thoughts as they arise
Can also be accepted
Along with the thoughts
Be they reflective or speculative
As manifestations of this divine principle
Which we all carry within us
And which is our source of being
And is also the source of Being itself

This is the practice
It is one of acceptance of the present situation
Your present situation in life
Your role in creating it
Your ability to truly understand it
To understand your codependence
On family, friends, colleagues, lovers, etc

And by so doing
Look to achieve this balance and harmony
Between the Earth and the Heavens
As the ancient Chinese so elegantly put it
Using symbols and not even words
Because once words are used
True understanding is actually lost in some sense

So don’t abandon your goals or objectives in life
The Western way of thinking has value too
But in your practice you must abandon such things
And then as the mind settles in
As thoughts and emotions settle
Out of and back Into
The grand abyss of awareness
That underlies all things and beings
One can recognize
Even if for a fleeting moment
The very source of Being itself
And our identity with it

The experience of Satchitananda
Existence Knowledge Bliss Absolute
Can be experienced
And perhaps more importantly
Its aftertaste spill into our daily lives
To make ourselves better people
And the world around us
A better place


A Poem to a Friend

What is friendship really?
What is love really?
Are they different?

Are there different types of love?
Is there no greater love
No greater desire
Than the dissolution of the many into the one
Through the union of man and woman
In intimate embrace?

But where does marriage fit in?
What does that entail really?
For those who have gone down
That long and desolate road before
(and to be fair joyous and remarkable as well)
There are many pitfalls
And one thing is for sure
That it is most definitely not
What those have never been married
Would like to believe it is
When the white dress is put on
And the vows are stated
In the house of God
Born witness by friends and family

But then we reach an interesting place
After this romantic dream dissolves
Into the reality of the illusion it always was
And the lover and the beloved leave each other
For greener pastures
Or for whatever reason
And the two are no longer one
But something quite less than two
But still more than just two individuals

And in this place
Friendship takes on a new meaning
Where love and intimacy
Have the chance
To evolve to something different
Even while all the while
The base creative urge which rests in all of us
Must be met
And for some this urge
Is stronger and more important
In the dynamics of love
Than others no doubt

But we are all human after all
Designed to procreate
And virtually our entire biological structure
Is designed for this purpose
And for the most part
Drives the behavior of the entire human race

Quest for power and money
Lust and Greed as Ramakrishna called it
Kama-Kanchana (lit. Lust and Gold)
It moves the world
And all its creatures with it

And yet in the setting sun of our lives
As the darkness of sunset approaches far in the horizon
Friendship then
Cooperation with colleagues
Harmony and balance in one’s personal life
Fulfillment of responsibilities
For those that came before us
And for those that follow in our footsteps
Become not secondary goals in life
But THE driving purpose of existence

But a lover is in a different category no doubt
Matters of the heart are different
They reach deeper into the soul
And because of of this elementary truth
They cut much deeper
As deep in fact
As to the height of spirit that is reached
When the lover and the beloved
Are strung along the same thread
And follow the same energy
That connects everything to everyone
And everyone to everything
In the bliss of union
Which is a gift from God like no other
It was in fact
The Apple that was eaten
By Adam in the Garden
Lured by the snake of temptation
This is why we were cast out remember?
Think think think
The very core of the creation story
Is the Fall of Man

But sometimes, just sometimes
When the snake is not bemoaned
When it is not cursed and smothered
By the guilt in our deepest consciousness
And it is accepted for what it is
Another creation of the divine
That is to be worshipped alongside of
And as part of
The great creation within which we reside

In this world
These lines between friend and lover
Can sometimes be
And in fact in almost all cases are
Blurred and blended in a cosmic mix
Of delight and anger
Suffering and angst
Joy and bliss

And as this friend and lover
Distinction starts to blur
Or as it evolves and changes
From one to the other
Or something in between

Or perhaps maybe
With a lover and a beloved
There is always a little of both
To some greater or lesser extent
Depending on where they are
In the pace and evolution
Of their own individual lives

But here’s the thing
Many things we want to be just can’t
And sometimes what we’re left with
Is not precisely what we wanted
But as the Rolling Stones so aptly put it

You can’t always get what you want
But if you try sometimes
You just might find
You get what you need

Embrace it
Cherish it
Nourish it
Grow it
Whatever ‘it’ is

And let be what is to be
Instead of boxing what is
Into what you envisioned it to be
Before it ever was
And after it will never be

And however large and expansive
You can extend your love
To the beloved of the world
Is there no greater measure than this?


This is what I feel
This is what i yearn for
This is what I search for
This is what we all search for

So join me in this journey
In whatever way you can
Such that we do not have to go at it alone
And we can give each other
Some comfort along the way perhaps

A shoulder to lean on
A kiss to lean into
An embrace to instill
Our separate but connected
Warmth and compassion
Upon each other

And see flashes of light
In the darkness
To inspire us to press on
And see the beauty and glory
In the greatest gift of all
Life itself

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