I’m Feeling Diminished
I’ve become obscure in my old age;
when my life is nearly finished;
although a poet; I’m certainly no sage;
feeling somewhat diminished.
All around me, I view others success;
while failure has become my lot;
perhaps, I’ve tried too hard to impress;
Fountains Of Youth
The river of life flows from a fountain;
flooding the valleys, below;
melted like snow from God’s holy mountain;
life was that melted snow.
We were created as conscious energies;
encouraged to drink from the well;
we are the blend of conscious synergies;
sent down for
Reaping And Sowing
Why is no apology ever quite enough;
can’t we just say, “I’m sorry?”
Sometimes, I feel like just giving up;
feeling like someone’s quarry.
Must I reap from every seed I’ve sown;
can’t others forgive and forget?
In our suffering; our stature
The Extended Family
A family is a group of people; related;
either by marriage or birth;
an extended family must be translated;
to include God’s family on earth.
We’re linked together by a familial bond;
connecting below and above;
thoughts of the soul reach far beyond;
such is
A Watched Pot Never Boils
It’s said; a watched pot never boils;
but, of course; we know it does;
and, to the victor, belongs the spoils;
but we say it; just because.
Sometimes the time becomes irrelevant;
it almost seems to stand still;
becoming reality’s white elephant;
a
Moving On
Why does it seem; we’ve a difficult time;
letting go of things of the past;
life isn’t just physical; it becomes sublime;
nothing physical can last.
Imagine yourself as waves of God’s love;
and the universe as consciousness;
flowing below; then returning above;
the ebb
The Futility Of Dreams
I live my life; dwelling in emptiness;
floating; one dream to another;
longing to feel that passionate caress;
of my long lost dream lover.
Tho she be a figment of my imagination;
an image of the devil’s disguise;
her love is the essence of life’
A Mystery Called Life
Reality is the accumulation of mysteries;
each one; a small part of the whole;
new civilizations; becoming histories;
a mystery, called life, is the soul.
Life is the creation of consciousness;
flowing from the Master’s thought;
perfection requires our righteousness;
in becoming what our Lord
