I have a connection to somewhere;
there’s nowhere I’d rather be;
and I will quite willingly declare;
somewhere has an affinity for me.
Somewhere is the place I was born;
and somewhere is where I will die;
thinking of somewhere I tend to mourn;
and somewhere just makes
I lay in bed, wide awake;
then lapsed into a dream;
sublety, did awareness take,
dissolved my conscious stream.
I found myself in another world;
my mind, in high elevation;
a new reality; itself, unfurled;
with no line of demarcation.
I don’t recall a mental leap;
that sent me
Reality is a constantly flowing stream;
within it, all life is imparted;
carrying each fiber of the Master’s dream;
it’s where creation started.
Flowing downward; a virtual river;
draining Eden of all of it’s flood;
a perfect gift; from the perfect giver;
enhanced by the Master’s
I feel as tho in a separate dimension;
looking upon another, within;
seeing peoples, split in dissension;
constant conflicts; to Love’s chagrin.
Some dream about getting their way;
seeking only personal gain;
hate only leads to death and decay;
leaving ashes and ruins to remain.
The Master taught to
…What kingdom lies beyond infinity;
what time is longer than forever?
Both answers; defined by divinity;
only God can answer; whatever.
Who made the boundaries of infinity;
determined their borders, wherever?
For such are the limits of divinity;
who stretches from here to forever.
Infinity encompasses all times and spaces;
…How can I, somehow, absorb your pain;
is there some way I can lift your spirit?
Why has this life, gained your disdain;
you mustn’t let sorrows near it.
Most of us think we can avoid all drama;
but drama is what all life is about;
all must learn
Who turned out the light of my life;
exited from it’s stage;
who removed my loving wife;
and turned another life’s page?
Who brought down the stage curtain;
brought about the end to our song;
what about the future is certain;
and how can I just play along?
We ought never judge a book by it’s cover;
or so it has often been said;
such also applies to a friend or lover;
at least, till their book has been read.
For the cover is what the authors show;
what they simply choose to reveal;
not really all
