Fulfillment
Fulfillment
Fulfillment is being held in the arms of that which has loved you since before you were born,
and the celebration of every breath in each moment of living …
Fulfillment is the banishment of all doubt and all fear by the force of an undefeatable love,which has always been and will always remain …
Fulfillment is eyes filled with clarity and a heart resting gently in an ocean of peace, which is home….Fulfillment is the light and melody of the song of truth which is eternally sung in the depths of the soul …
Fulfillment is the purest of healing waters, which has forever been rinsing the dust from the spirit, to clothe it in its own garments of beauty …
Fulfillment is the remembrance of that which has already been written.
Always was and forever will be.
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Stay Awake
This is the way
It’s inside you
Every minute of the day
Every moment of your life
Stay awake!
Watch your life unfold
Like a story being told
For the first time
The One For Whom It All Makes Sense
I have written a thousand poems for you
that have never left my room.
They fill the pages of notebooks stacked high on a shelf
no one can reach.
Orphans they are, beggars afraid they are not noble enough for the King,
would never make it past the guards.
I make a vain attempt to dress them up,
disguise their ridiculous origins, but still they smell bad.
There are times, late at night, however, when they think I’m asleep,
I can almost hear them talking to each other,
conjuring new ways to make it to your court.
Oh, the arguments they have! The barroom brawls!
Some of them actually think a shower and a shave is all they need.
Others insist on practicing, all night long, the perfect way of greeting you.
There is much to be said for these backroom bards,
these arm wrestling vagrants from another world.
Indeed, if I was dead,
my ambitious biographer, after paying his due respects
and asking permission of my dear, sweet wife,
would borrow them just long enough to search for pearls
and find the perfect turn of phrase, the verse,
the sudden storm of brilliance even my harshest critics would have to praise.
He’d think of clever titles for the tome, describing, in his carefully written way,
the “man who left his muse too soon”
or some such thing that might make you wonder
why I never gave these poems to you –
the one for whom it all makes sense even when it doesn’t.
Holding the song
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gold grass
around the poolbreath’s flute fills
& empties
It makes me weep
to feel how much holding.
(draw your mouth to my ear)What do I wait for, Love?
One chord, one tone.One song,
mine alone.
from the CD of poems,
Holding the Song, wiredonwords
How to Listen to the Master
First of all,
give up everything you know
about listening –
it has nothing to do with your ears.
That kind of listening
will only take you so far.
If you really want to hear,
you will need to leave your ears at the door
and while you’re at it, your head.
Then, take a seat,
breathe deep,
let go
and become
a flower
opening to the sun.
Excerpted from The Heart of the Matter
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