I’ve never seen ‘God’
I have seen Light
(And Peter told me ‘God is light’)
Light of sun and stars,
Light from the eyes of listeners and joy-makers
Light inside behind thought and feeling
I’ve never seen the face of God, nor have I stood before any throne
I have seen faces of bliss, of mercy and compassion, of joy and laughter and tears, of appreciation, gratitude and serenity, of courage and resilience. Also, of their opposites.
I have stood on the presence of Peace
And known the divine’s not far away
I’ve never heard the voice of God or of any angelic messenger
I have heard words of wisdom and truth,
Heartfelt words, unscripted
From the mouths of babes, lovers and masters, poets and sages,
Words written and spoken, recent and ancient
I haven’t heard the heavenly choirs singing the praises of an unseen king
I have heard sounds indescribable…shall I try to describe them?
They are notes unstruck that concentrate the mind and bring serenity
These sounds come from within
As does the light
And the love unconditional and surprising
And the words of wisdom
I awake today thinking of another year, another time
Composing a narrative or a brilliant rhyme
It flowed without effort as I lay under the covers
Not yet aware of the time of day
The birds had sung their early wake-up song
Led by Rackoo-Racoo, least favorite of all, an hour before the dawn
On the other side of our king-size bed, She was gently breathing, sleeping still
And I decided then to focus not on a time gone by
But on today.
All the pages of my book have been written except this one
The last few thousand pages have been turned
I’m presented with this new one I call a day
No other page has room for change, it isn’t digital ink
But indelible words, actions, pictures tied with emotion
Bound in a place they call Akash
To be read, perhaps, only by me in compassionate state
Devoid of judgement but by love’s perspective alone
Today those pages are there, and I feel their weight
Some are well read, others faded from my sight like a past life
The words cannot be changed but their colour, their radiance can
Today, I choose to write a new one.
That light you see
The colour you feel
It has no name
The love you have
For him or her
The love you gave away
It’s still right here inside your heart
Ready to dance and play
The waves of peace
That soothed your wounds
Still wash upon your shore
Breaking now upon your heart
And forever more.
Surprising how loud the music is tonight
In the midst of a silent world
Where no one listens.
I come home inside, close the doors
and there it is, playing full-blare
The notes a continuous expression of life:
The Thunder of Peace.
Stirred by Earth’s turning, a gentle breeze from equatorial seas
Rages with the hot, dry continental skies
Raises oceans to cool on high
Swirling through the latitudes to my home
Bringing gentle rain, soft breeze that fills me once again with gratitude
Evaporates fear from the atmosphere:
A downpour of love dripping from a sky that’s clear
Light without colour
Explanations end while feeling takes over.
When light becomes sound
And turns to music
Merges into the air I breathe
And becomes love
Then I’m content.
And ready for breakfast!
My spaceship has no walls; no windows.
I used to call it “Breath”.
Was that a put-down?
Or is “spaceship”?
Old Lao called it Tao
But only when the gatekeeper insisted he write
after a lifetime of teaching.
So, just for today,
I’m calling this My Spaceship.
I'm wearing my crown
Can you see it?
No, because it is my crown - you have your own.
Can you see and enjoy yours? I hope so:
It's made of the same jewels as mine I expect
Unclassified, uncut, mega-faceted
I'm silly to try and describe my crown.
Forget your chakras,
My crown has no up nor down
No right side, inside, outside, upside down-ness
No colour, whiteness, dark or lightness
Its beauty comes from fullness of feeling:
I feel fulfilled as I merge into my crown now.
Forget your chakras!
Melt into that ocean within
Where even a moment can be appreciated
Like drops of pure water seeping from a mountain spring
One by one
To my thirsty mouth
Each one quenches
Yet the thirst is delicious too.
How many times - today - have I crossed this bridge?
And have I really crossed over it lately?
Have I crossed to the gardens and the lake;
the fountain and the ancient trees?
Or have I just timidly ventured to the first few pylons,
felt the tremble of its engineering beneath the rushing load of traffic,
briefly surveyed the scene,
admired the view with panic in my heart
and retreated to the safety of the eastern shore?
I know the answer and it points to ye olde thirst again:
"I'm gonna be fulfilled before this day is done, starting now!"
Determined to cross to drink in the freshness on the other side
And then to dance back home, fulfilled, and ready to ask myself
"Now what can I do
This is it!
Not that or there
But This, Here.
Could "This" be a new name for the un-nameable?
Could Heaven really be Here Now?
There's no room for doubt in feeling
Gratitude feels best:
From my best love poetry you can read a few more poems here - ones I call "awaken poetry"