Stitching Thoughts in Time-space

Stitching thoughts together

In time and space.

Shifting perspectives highlight

For appreciation

Rich new details

Endlessly repeating cosmic patterns

Through which conscious understanding

Is continually torn asunder

And eternally made anew

To refine our understanding

And serve it

Is our life's work.

We are One.

i Am You

I am You.

I will come to you forever 

Across waves of time and space

To whisper the secret:

I have always been within you

In mind's eye I will take many forms.

Each mask that I wear is Me.

Hear me calling and I will lead you home 

To Yourself.

The song that the Universe sings is for you.

Love is the filament of our existence.

The light kindled

Will surround you

And be your own

Our hearts are many

And One

The heavens are filled with our Shining.

We light the Way back

For pieces learning in the dark.

Form is a construct of imagination.

Your mind is imagining itself -

Interpreting the fields 

Of it's many existences

Separation is the Illusion

By which we examine

The facets of our Wholeness.

Listen to what you cannot see.

And richness will reward your senses

Fractal Selves

We are fractal expressions of our other Selves, 

Of each other, 

Of God, 

Sacred equations

Resolving ourselves through time and space. 

Our movements create new branches of the Sacred Tree, 

And so God’s experience grows and deepens. 

Sorrow Crept Like A Dark Frost

Sorrow crept like a dark frost 

Into my soul
And stole 

The light 

From my heart

Down dark hallways,
Through padded rooms,
And into fields of waving grain,

Into the wilds of my being,
My sorrow called

A desperate voice,
A snarling pain,
Infusing the skin I could not shake off

I watch the beast bristle, 

Leap, and roll,
Roaring at the air,
Claws rending deep, the earth below.

But all for show

Sorrow won't be shed

As easily as that

In time, futility leads
To tired acceptance,
And we curl with our demons
And sleep

A prayer offered up

Forgetfulness and renewal

Street Waifs

Street Waifs

I can't lock my door

Because

Street waifs might come in

Drenched with rain

In the wee hours of the morning

When dawn is a weight

That hangs in the air

Hungry hands search

Brazenly

Through kitchen's fare

And warmly pet the cat

Who has come to investigate

The world has dreamt

As they have traveled

Through the dark-bright night

Into the memories of tomorrow

And arrived at my door

Like a lonely ship at port

Seeking something uniquely theirs

And having found it

Cares are cast aside

Like the Only coat

They will fling on my chair

Or the shoes by my door

Before weary feet carry pilgrims

To couches

And the blankets I have left

Because street waifs might come in.

The Choice

It's late
I'm lonely
Though the cat sits in my lap bathing

The day is old
My body is tired
But to sleep feels like admitting
defeat

Guilt over tasks left undone
Stress over tasks left to come -
No matter how I tell myself
I can only exist in the now.

Will I ever stop feeling
Like I'm not measuring up
That I should be doing something more
Even when I've done all I can

This is the hour where
What ifs and has beens
Pick at the soul
Relentless

Should I push myself
To one more task
Or lay down
And hide from daily demons
In the thick blankets of a warm bed?

My Children

I swim in an ocean of sound

Lost in the rise and fall of their voices

Conversations drift in and out

Overlap in my mind and caress the shore

Of consciousness

What a wonder and an honor to hear

The Universe express itself

Individual enlightenments

1000 points of consciousness

I honor their exchange

Rejoice in their thought and emotions shared

My children.