CONSCIOUSNESS

The Beloved

In our Daily conversations,
our Wanderings,
There are words that come up
and Words that Fall Down.

There is a Life Lived between Sentences,
A fragrance in the Dots, the Pronouns,
the Fresh Morning Adjectives.

We speak of Love rarely in our Lives,
As though Love is a Four-Letter word,
discouraged through Generations of History,
Frowned-Upon by the Mentors of an
Technicality-Hungry culture.

the Quiet Dream

There is a Quiet Dream,
a Small Self that remains un-lived.
A Bouquet of Promises, a Banquet of Streams.

Through the doorway of Internal Self
we glimpse the Eternal Self: beautiful, small,
well-formed, delicately-maintained,
Impeccable in its un-judged perfection.

Heart

We talk about the “heart”.

Do we know what this place is;  do we know this feeling well enough to call it our home?

When I grew up, we were not instructed in the understanding of this.  The only “heart” we knew was the embarrassing crimson blob we’d see on Valentine’s cards from adoring classmates, once a year.   Then, of course, the word was used carefully, guardedly, in relation to romance and those fleeting bottle-of-wine-in-the-meadow moments that often turn into jaded and forgotten memories.

And “heart”, for most of us, became an unknown item on an illegible menu in a cafe whose doors were closed to business.

Rain

This Feeling

has been described as “Rain”.

There is a sense of accumulation
in who we are, what we move with,
breathe with,
carry …
on a Daily Basis.

Humans: what we gather
and hang onto, is not usually
the good, the clean, the nourishing.
It is more often the toxic, the negating,
the poisons.

The Un-Resolved, and Never-Removed.

The Place of Stillness

Life Moves.

So do We.

Constantly.

Outer.  Inner. Circles. Storms. Motion, commotion.

Location, place, thing, river, wind, dust.  Nothing stays still.

Our mind engages. In all this movement.  And man, in his blurry and distorted wisdom, seeks not only to “keep up” with this circus, but to amp it up further, to the point of madness.

Cell phones bleeping and blopping. Car horns.  Animated TV commercials playing on taxi hub-caps. The blind leading the blind in a dance of Faster, Further, More, Louder, Longer, Stranger.  Television content that says Nothing in ten thousand different ways.  We’re a kid in a candy-store of a million choices, all of them bad for our health, all of them promising Immediate Sensory Enlightenment.

A Million Bubbles Bursting

There is a word
called “Ease”.

This word slips from our lips like a delicious cookie, a snore on a picnic blue sky day.

We have known Little Parcels of this.  How?

Often brought about by Illegal Substances, unexpected Lottery Prizes, rewards of childrens’ report cards, corporate promotions, costly Back Massages.