Poems about Reality
There are some who think life self created;
and we shouldn’t regard God as the tool;
totally lacking of logic, they’re satiated;
you might even claim they’re a fool.
Creation is an impossibly complex being;
placing us in a mindless mishap.
Could reality create without seeing;
pulling
All life poured out from the Master’s fountain;
resonating, from above, to below.
Consciousness is thought’s Holy Mountain;
from which living waters flow.
Thoughts became imaged, to what were to be;
and sound, as well, was heard by the mind;
whatever we thought; was what we could see;
She was never the center of attention;
others comfort was what she sought;
as though from another dimension;
it was unconditional love, she brought.
It seemed she was able, to only see good;
only the best in all others, were found;
somehow, it seems, only she understood;
a life will
We’ve all climbed aboard of life’s ride;
going to an undisclosed destination;
there’s little on life’s train, we can decide;
we may only share our own inclination.
Many think destiny has laid out the track;
but, every track has switches, along the way;
once they’re
I feel empty in a holiday season;
separated from all of reality;
tho I’m here, I don’t feel a reason;
suffering a loss of normality.
In a room, crowded with emptiness;
a feast that’s lacking sustenance;
longing the warmth of sweet caress;
a vessel, devoid of substance.
It was a lifetime ago; or so it seemed;
places and people; no longer here;
a cloudy mist, as tho it’d been dreamed;
its very presence, become austere.
Maintaining an aura of energy sensitivity;
my thoughts became what I feel;
consciousness demonstrated no proclivity;
to separate a dream, from
The soul has no length, width, or height;
no space limitations, lie within;
if seen; it would appear as a Light;
it’s the seed where a life begins.
It’s a seed of pure righteousness;
as intricate as any flower;
spun from Universal Conciousness
containing limitless power.
Sharing power
…Emotions are the energies we wear;
they guide our trajectory of being;
whether they be ecstacy or despair;
they determine our capacity for seeing.
Vision is simply a function of thought;
we see what our mind says we see;
though we think we see what we ought;
instead, we see
