REALITY

How can mere thoughts become erotic;
causing emotional upheaval within;
thoughts being words, may seem exotic;
though where does exotic begin?

Thoughts and feelings may seem the same;
but such isn’t, always, entirely true;
feelings, sometimes, may get thought’s blame;
but thoughts can be feelings, too.

What’s

Lately, I feel myself slowly fading;
the material me will soon be gone;
a weariness inside; tired of waiting;
tho, the energy me, shall live on.

But that energy inside seems shifting;
seeking entry, inside another realm;
like a summer cloud, lazily drifting;
imbued with love, from One at the

Birth is the dawn of enduring Light;
bringing forth a brand new day;
a fresh reality, overcomes the night;
Light’s illusions providing the way.

The day holds court for a season;
and the dread of night, dispelled.
Then, for some purpose or reason;
that day; by the night, is

In a garden above; in the heavenly realm;
the Master sits on His throne;
with the King of kings at the ship’s helm;
a world of Thought, all alone.

The only reality there has ever been;
the kingdom of Thought and Love;
an illusion cast down; another to begin;

Treasures, are seldom found in the open;
if left there; they’d never remain;
those, left to be found, would be token;
with all the others, taken for gain.

Treasures come in all shapes and sizes;
some are personal gifts of the soul;
others, analytical thoughts or surmises;
some gifts

While walking through a meadow of tall grass;
a gentle breeze brushed the side of my face;
I could feel the gentleness as the wind passed;
as the Master; the wind, had displaced.

The dreamworld doesn’t posess such a feeling;
we can only experience whatever we think;
but in

We shouldn’t judge a book by its cover;
at least that’s what a wise man once said;
like mistaking a casual friend for a lover;
we should judge what’s inside it, instead.

All thru our lives we’re beguiled by wrappings;
complexities and complications lie within;
we

We march through life, so oblivious;
thinking that everything matters;
yet, the truth is somewhat incidious;
our fragile existance, it shatters.

We dwell in a sense of permanence;
thinking this life won’t end;
gaining comfort from our ignorance;
then hoping another will begin.

Many believe, as they leave death’