Heart Beats with a Trillion Flickering Stars

Upon the day the sun shone brightest, I looked upon the waters of the deep,
I thought perhaps I could gain knowledge of the life of these greatest seas
for I had been fond of such abysmal research before, watching the crowds
passing by or doing their daily chores, heads down, hands unable to hold
unable to give, unable to scold or to capture their dreaming desires bold.

Yet all I could ever see upon the surface of the sea were mirrors of me
fragments fallen to the bottom, souls of me swimming in that dark deep
with a frightening and most sinister gravity hiding down below pulling
my heart beneath to be and live there alone as alone as the earth is alone
she, a living cosmic symphony who muses with all planets, sun, and stars.

Could it be, I wondered, could it be that my drowning is a birth of me?
Could it be, I marveled, that I could dissolve into that heaven born sea?
I will dare the wandering as ocean flows and reaches the shore to leave,
as I, too, breathe wondering to where leads this strangest of journeys
the one where water’s rhythm heart beats with a trillion flickering stars

Game of the Labyrinth

You can never lose this uncanny game of life
for you play both opposing sides of the table:
the other is simply you; and you are the other
and so you cannot ever fail to be just yourself
any more than the sky can fail to be just sky;
but we are the beings who must ourselves seek
who we are inside this our physical labyrinth
of the good and the bad, the love and the fears
our hearts contain these myriad signs unclear
ever hidden in whom we believe that we are,
yet whom we cannot ever be neither near nor far
and that is the puzzle through we must learn
traversing the dark, towards Self we will turn.

To Be What is True

they wrote down yoga that you might remember,
not that you might know and teach the masses;

they didn’t care about scholars in white chairs
who in books allow their souls to be devoured

nor did they care about the acrobats of the fair,
who in mirrors allow their souls to become sour

no. wisdom is a memory of what’s brought to light
that the rest of us don’t forget our earthly plight

that you might remember to feel the brilliant sun
that you everywhere hear love of two that’s sung

rainy days give soft rhythm for your soul to drink
to dream what your parents never allowed you to think

I write this down that you might also remember you
to feel what cannot be written, to be what true.

A Billion Drops of Moonlight

a billion drops of moonlight shimmer in this dark night
falling as the rain falls, longing for their sun light
but it is earth that they find so densely wet and cold
going inside they melt into strange and foreign forms
grass tussling in the midnight breeze, leaves rustling;
they scatter hither and thither as lovers torn asunder
but in the midst of these I hear Moon’s soft whispering
soul-song with Sun to bridge their separated symphonies
hoping they’ll find each other in tomorrow’s waxing day