Tag: poetry

1 25 19

I asked for a dream before I slept.

“Let me see if I am doing right or if I am screwing up, I was taught to fear this path.

But the impossible happens so often now, I don’t see how it can be wrong.

I only want you, nothing else.

That’s all I’ve wanted since I heard that you exist.

If I’m missing the boat, show me how to get back on.

If this is as right as it feels, then please let me clearly see.

The lingering fears drag me down.”

…This poem describes the dream…

The foundation has failed, it’s fallen into disrepair.

What it was, is now a use to be, yet the structure stands.

The beauty of its glorious splendor remains, but life is gone.

The center of the floor is falling in, shaped like a hardwood drain, sinking down, it leaves no place to stand.

I can place a beam, shore up the floor, repair the damage done, but why?

The foundation has failed, it’s fallen into disrepair.

I returned to see what was left, to see if I need to fear.

Were the decisions made, right or wrong, is there anything I still need here?

A piano unplayed, the organ silent, a pulpit no longer used.

The grocery carts that once brought food, sitting empty, parked behind the pews.

No food for souls, no meal prepared and yet the hunger remains.

Not a hymn, not a song, not a sound to stir the air, only silence everywhere.

Out the door I left, walking towards the rising sun, continuing forward, my journey not done.

…end…

The beliefs that introduced me to a life beyond.

The beliefs that carried me so far, for so long.

The beliefs that slowly fell aside.

The beliefs that seem to now block the way.

Thank you for what you ushered in. Please continue with me as I wander on.

My path will not end, of this I have no doubt.

I long sit in the heart of God, to feel the unconditional love. To be embraced by the All in All.

To reunite and remember fully the oneness I share with the Creator Of All.

Morning Meds; 1 26 22

Our thoughts are like the ingredients we use to brew a tea, the emotions produced, is the taste and fragrance.

Cleaning our pantry, herb bins and spice racks of outdated ingredients, sweetens the tea.

Morning Meds; 1 25 20

There comes a time in our spiritual journey, when we realize that the old places that brought us comfort and subsidence no longer meet our needs, for we have changed.

Morning Meds; 1 25 22

Mortality is just a passing phase of eternal life.

Morning Meds; 1 25 19

I Am and I Can are proclamations of immediate change.

A new now.

I Am declares our present a state of being.

I Can is the flower that blooms after doubt has passed.

Both proclamations put us in the present.

The present is all there is.

I Am changing, is a present moment bridge to a new now.

Morning Meds; 1 24 19

“Grasshopper, see every emotional disturbance that ripples your sea of tranquility, as an opportunity to practice centering.

You will become more centered, and you will stay real damn busy.”

“Thank you, Master Po.”

Morning Meds; 1 24 20

The magnitude of our spiritual possibilities is often determined by how willing we are to expand our comfort zone and how willing we are to feel our way through the discomfort it can produce.

Out of fear people draw boundaries and label them, Safe Spiritual Limits.

The adventurous, accept their fear as a natural part of the experience, erase the line, and reach for limitless.

Morning Meds; 1 24 22

We only hang onto our egos because we don’t realize how much better we would feel without it.

Morning Meds; 1 23 22

We signed on to do this little blue school, floating in its bubble of air.

We gather in love for the sheer impact of duality and the ecstasy of creative reality.

The two simple rules.

Number one.

We can’t create anything without the creating the possibility of the other.

We dance this dance of duality each of us thumbing the scale as we think best, weighing the weight of the actions of others instead of the essence of their soul.

Actions required for the sake of learning for without the darkness there is no light.

Enlighten souls, all the same, choosing to act their part.

Those who mock, those who encourage, those acting as if they haven’t a clue.

The murderous inmate, the grieving survivors, the members of the courts.

The agonizing parents wondering what more could have done to have helped their suicidal child.

The heights of joy, the depths of sorrow and everything in between.

When the plates of the scales are cleared and we shed the costumes we chose, we will see that no matter what anyone has done, everyone weighs exactly the same.

We will see only our fullness of Source, our true essence unclothed.

We are all one, we are all just individualized expressions of the only thing that truly exists.

We cannot be divided against ourselves.

We are eternally evolving, experience by experience, attempting to master the craft of unconditional love.

Oh yea, rule number two.

We must forget what we chose for each other and that this little blue school is all an elaborate tool.

Morning Meds; 1 23 20

As our consciousness expands,

the accessories we had thought to be necessities, fall away.

We recognize our status and realize we are complete.

We are one with the Consciousness of the universe.