I was lying across my bed, sleeping,
sunlight streaming into my room;
something caused me to start weeping;
a strange sound diminished my gloom.
Clearly, came the sound of a barking dog;
it was emanating from outside;
though I understand, my mind was a fog;
my memory of truth did
After this party called life is over;
where does this consciousness go?
Is it destined to be under the clover;
or, scattered across new fallen snow?
The body, like your hair that was cut;
is of no more use to you;
and, if someone scoops your body up;
what can
I awakened completely; feeling alive;
being youthful down to the bone.
Later, I questioned, “Would I survive;
a lifetime, while living alone?”
The two parts of my being are disjointed;
the physical is growing old every day;
my energy self has been appointed;
to pick up the slack and pave
My world won’t be the same again;
I couldn’t make it so, if I tried;
I wouldn’t know how to make it begin;
for a little bit inside of me died.
My personal book of life’s pages; stripped;
some chapters inside it were gone;
the book
The Conductor raised his baton;
his orchestra was reality;
preparing to usher in the dawn;
with a sonata of finality.
He defiantly brought it down;
light accenting the cymbals crash;
the Conductor wore his crown;
the river of life made its splash.
Reality; creating a new beginning;
a separate world
One and all, we fear a slow death;
thinking about living in agony;
fear of struggling to get a breath;
and yet, all of it, is pure irony.
Our body begins its downward trail;
the very moment we’re born;
trepidation ensues, as we near death’s veil;
causing much
I still remember a conversation I had;
many lifetimes, far in the past;
and others, too; both happy and sad;
of a future we both thought would last.
We seemed the Master’s perfect pair;
a blend of endless devotions;
we didn’t count on reality’s despair;
and its
Tears, the wonder of all creation;
formed in the Aura’s womb;
healing: the tears’ obligation;
their blossoms coming in bloom.
Toxicity of all poisonous thought;
washed out with the wave of tears;
designed to do; what tears ought;
washing away reality’s fears.
Sadness and sorrow caused their birth;
…