The Night Sky In My Heart

When everyone else
Is out fighting each other
And arguing about who is right
And who is wrong
Caught in an endless war
Of human against human
Elevating themselves
Or someone else
And tearing them from the pedestal

You will find me here
Sitting quietly
Strumming a guitar
Or reading the story
Of the zen farmer
Or maybe watching the stars
In the night sky
Looking out at millions,
Billions of years
Of coming and going

And when I do venture out
Amidst the squabbling and argument
I will do my very best
To take the zen farmer with me
To carry the night sky in my heart
And the stars in my eyes
I will be that old guitar
And maybe, just maybe,
I will be the music
The universe sings
And bring a peaceful song
To all the people I meet.

On Reaching 60 Years

I’m 60 today
It’s been a long journey so far
Much has been broken
On the way
But now there is no attempt
To mend anything
Only to accept it as it is
There is much I could regret
Things I haven’t done or achieved
But somehow grace has gifted me freedom
Recently, in my 59th year,
I have finally dropped all concern
For what I have or haven’t done
Who I could have been
And what was done to me
Everything came to an end
In this year of grace
And allowed me to enter
The final movement
Unencumbered by past
The game ran its course
And in the glaring light
Everything was seen as it is
As love in disguise
Now I can get down
To the real business of life
Compassion and creativity
Silence and simply joy
Openness and acceptance
And a steely dedication
To the deepest truth
As I feel it

I am filled with gratitude
For the lineage of ancestry
That stretches back
To the beginning
The thread of relations
That brought me here
Although I can never know you
I feel all of you
In my blood, bones and brain
In my tears and my laughter
My pain, suffering and joy
We all meet here
In this experience
The past is this
That some call Kavi
But I call life.

The Artist Saves Humanity From A Dry Existence

The linearity of this level of consciousness
Preoccupied by past, present, future
By the rational, practical and ordered mind
By survival and shelter
Is so dry and barren
When left to it’s own devices

It is only salvaged by creativity
By the artist
The poet
The mystic
The wild one
Who goes beyond
Who stumbles into the unknown
Who goes beyond the limit

They bring meaning
Something extraordinary
They shine a light
Remind us of our mystery
Our fragility
Vulnerability
They show us our own soul
And our broken hearts
They cry for us and with us

The artist
The beautiful, crazy ones,
Fit for nothing reasonable
And mostly hopeless
At fitting into anything
Save us from
Rigidity
And the constant sameness
Of things

For god’s sake
Buy their stuff
Share it, rave about it
Love them, tell them you love them
You may be all they have
You may be what stands between them
And giving up

And if you are one of them
Know this
What you do is of value
It doesn’t matter who sees it
Who hears it
Who reads it
What matters is your soul
What matters is you do it
Just do it anyway
Give up on the reason why
Or the outcome
What you do matters
On levels of consciousness
Unseen and invisible
If you get reward on this plane
Great
If you don’t
Great
Do what you must
And do it with your brazen
Broken
Wounded
Wild
Crazy heart wide open.

 

Communion of Souls

There is a communion of souls
A place within where we meet
Where something deep is touched
Some essence beyond the reach of conditioned mind

When we meet in that sacred encounter
We may dare show our true face
A great trust will arise
Through our naked vulnerability
And love will manifest naturally
As our abiding state

We may never return
To the ordinary world
Of masks and cloaks
For we will have tasted life’s true beauty.

Divine Dance of Form

I have felt the sun rise
Inside my own body
Felt the waning moon
Weeping in my heart
I have had planets
And constellations
Of wild energy systems
Circulating up my spine
The whole universe
Has been inside me
And I have been
Inside the universe

But then something changed
And a new kind of peace arrived

Now I no longer know
Or care
Which is which
Or what is what

For all division
Between this and that
Between inside and outside
Between me and the vast
Has dissolved

There is only one thing
One intelligence
Emerging into form
As many
And disappearing
Back into itself
It is almost impossible
For the mind to grasp
But if you get just a hint
Of what I mean
It will be enough.

Photo by Billy Huynh on Unsplash

Set Love Free

Love has a purpose
Unseen and mysterious
Ignored by all those
Who claim it for themselves
“It’s my love,
I love you, love me for who I am,” They cry
But love laughs

Love is not for ownership
You cannot keep love for yourself
Its purpose is to flow and spread
It is unconcerned with ideas of ownership
Or even relationship
It is as free as the wind
When you think you have it
It may well slip through your fingers like dust

Ego wants to own everything
It offers the illusion of power
In the vastness of eternity
And the mystery of existence

And so it claims love for itself

Love is the breath of God
Its purpose is to fill the lungs and heart
With divine resonance
Love is the gift we are given
From infinite intelligence
It is our communion with the divine
While we are here in form
It is our connection, our memory
Of home

Set love free from bondage friend
Let it fly and find it’s own way
Don’t trap it and lock it up
Open the doors and windows
And throw away the cage
And see what freedom arises
In your heart and soul.

The Poetry of What Is

Today I have decided not to write a poem
But just let there be space
Between us
Today there are no smart observations
Nothing insightful
To reveal
Nothing witty, profound or deep
No emotional wound or hurt
To heal or offer up
For salvation
No remedy for life’s suffering
No clever explanation
For the mystery of existence
In fact nothing at all
No drama my friend

Just this soft openness
And peaceful acceptance
Of the way things are

This is the true poetry
The poetry of what is.