Unicorns have unihorns
and uniforms of white
(unfinished)
Blessed one, beautiful and precious
I gazed at you and saw myself revealed;
The innermost yearnings of my soul
gazed back at me in recognition.
How can I know myself except by you?
Oh playful radiance,
You rush toward yourself
Merging in a brilliant burst,
lighting up the heavens.
Stately sentinel. Powerful presence.
Ever mindful of the heart.
Only innocence and trust
resonate to you purity;
and by them are you revealed.
Enlightened monarch. Heavenly prince.
You know that on this earthly plane
perfection has a shadow…
…your purity pierces armor
more efficiently than swords,
and your beauty is the balm
that heals all wounds.
Ancient and magical –
You who exist both in time and not.
How else could you live so long,
appearing and disappearing as you please.
Oh ethereal messenger,
alert and alive,
you herald a new awakening;
a transcendent age for humanity.
Look into the eye
and see the splendor
of the unicorn.
If this be not beauty
then there is no such thing.
I breathe into you,
You breathe into me.
For a moment our edges blur.
Only love exists.
You urge me forward,
I resist in fear.
We freeze in mid-stride, separating -
back into illusion.
Defender, protector,
the monster charges.
You charge back in mock response,
knowing it cannot harm.
Playfully nudging,
you remind me it is only a dream –
I am free to wake up any time I choose.
Confronting, challenging.
You dare me to wake up from the dream,
break with illusion, and boldly join you in the light.
Trumpeting joyfully, lifting in laughter,
you stretch to poke at the Cosmos in brotherly affection.
Earthly realm, no party takes thine own dear trust,
Deceived as thou art time upon time.
How patience stays thy wrath
when all of man defiles thy beauty
in ignorance and brutish greed.
The face of lust is hideous, yet thou looks upon it
as the mother adores her same child.
No energy is greater than love, and armed with love
thou dost wait for thy prodigal son to return.
Is there a heartbeat somewhere that matches my own?
What is there in me but that which I see in you?
In the heart of my being I hear the sound of you resonate.
I sing to that resonance and match its vibration.
The loudest voice is the most silent.
Every cry is a cry to know you.
I speak better with pictures than words;
and only intelligently when I speak from the heart.
I have grown short in time and long in other things.
Things that for their length are very small in stature.
Very short – minute in fact, compared to the greater
relevance of all that Is.
I threw my heart into the Abyss
never expecting to feel its beat in my chest again.
Yet my heart returned without a sound, without
a breath, and began to beat as if it had never left;
forgiving and forgetting that I had ever thrown
it away.
The light of Heaven streams into my darkness
and I am overcome.
“Have you no shame? I scream, “Revealing me to
myself in such nakedness?”
It replies with tender, teasing affection, “ I created you.
I birthed you. I have always seen your nakedness underneath
the folds and shrouds with which you try to hide yourself.
Undress and run naked now in the light.
Feel the warmth. Feel the freedom.
Shiver in ecstasy as I caress your being
with all the love of Eternity”.
I am solid with sickness, yet transparent and weightless in being.
I am stuck within four walls yet wander the universe freely.
I am landlocked and breathe air, yet my Self swims in the seas and
oceans of this planet, communing with my kin from elsewhere.
My real family watches me from the stars in the heavens above
and from the depths of the waters below.
Are they happy with my evolution?
Do they approve of how I turned out?
If ask perhaps they will tell me.
I am one of many who are but one.
The Ancients call to me with their loving wisdom.
My yearning is my call back to them -
like a young child lost in the forest.
They are not worried, for they know I will find my way home.
There’s a place I need to stand now;
it’s called “The soles of my two feet”.
Firmly anchored on this earth,
smack dab in the middle of my humanness.
Only then will I release my soul
and let it fly into the heavens.
What the soul recognizes
the head calls crazy –
sheer and utter foolishness.
Yet the soul knows
and the soul yearns
For that which has no words
but simply …Is.
The beauty of all the universes
cannot compare to the love of one human heart.
It radiates the light of God so brightly
even the stars are dimmed by its luminosity.
So much love amplified outward into the Cosmos.
A marvel to behold.
She loved him then, though she did not know it.
But he knew, and he waited patiently for her –
as if there was no time; for in reality there wasn’t.
Stirrings of the heart
Brief awakenings
Glimmers of higher consciousness
Moments of oneness when
All is good and right and clear –
Perfect – and everything is possible.
Come to me please,
I wait for you…
My heart waits to hear yours beating…
My eyes wait for you to look into them
And smile at me in recognition.
Grace, when I fell from you I fell from myself…
I have no wisdom but the air I breathe.
Life writes itself.
What each of us reads depends on the vantage point
from where we are looking;
perched as we are
on the edge of the book.
Spring:
The earth slowly wakes from her white sleep.
The sunrise, which has been pale and weak,
shines bright and buoyant,
Illuminating the sky with an effervescent glow.
The earth yawns and stretches her languid body,
gently slipping from under Winter’s possessive embrace,
as Spring beckons her to come and play once more.
Ideal:
All my life I have loved you
though I could not see, touch or
feel you except in my heart.
There alone you are mine
as lover, partner, friend.
There alone you share my dreams
and love me as I love you.
I created you,
yearned you into existence –
perfect, ideal.
And now your shadow darkens my heart.
Would that I could let you go
and free myself to the light and love
Of the one who stands before me.
Freedom:
This world which seems so concrete and real
has become to me merely one of many layers
and depths of dimension in my reality.
I feel my being flow so far beyond this illusory
world, at the same time that it flows with it.
The life I know as human really is just a game
I’d forgotten I made up. My sense of my Self, my
experience spans eternity and infinity; while a
part of me plays the hologram of life. I am both
player and game piece at the same time.
How wonderful to be so free to make it all up any way I desire.
No wonder I have always felt I had one foot in this world and one foot in another.
Ink black sky.
Twinkling points of light.
One flashes just in front of where I stand,
falling quickly downwards and diagonally from right to left.
Then it is gone – with permanence.
Such words as these bear little resemblance to the truth;
for words are products of the intellect, and truth passes best,
that is most directly and least distorted through the heart.
If human kind caused the world to burn,
to blow up In a fiery ball,
it would still be good, still be perfect.
For then the earth would become another star whose light would
shine for some other life form on some other planet in some other galaxy
in the universe.
It is freeing to know that nothing is inherently wrong.
Everything that happens is perfect. In every moment
there is an opportunity to choose an interpretation of the circumstances
which elevates one to a higher level of consciousness – or not.
I am real and not real at the same time.
My body is not solid nor this earth hard except by belief;
except by agreement.
Sometimes for the briefest of moments I experience this.
Mostly I just understand it.
My heart has taken to yearning for you.
My mind has taken to seeing your face in everything I do.
I have no power over my thoughts – daydreams of you creep in unbidden.
My soul knows you but that is never quite enough.
If I had more courage, I would forsake all that I know just to find you and spend
five minutes looking into your eyes…
The Fir Trees:
Tall and straight,
Immense and great
What does the wind
whisper to you
as it whisks and
whirls about your
coniferous limbs?
Does it bring you
tidings from other
lands, of other hands
that tinker with time
and score the sands
and rock and
earth which bind
you to your brethren?
As you sway and bend
to its rhythmic lead
do you lend a listening
that fills its need
to tell a tale,
and dance and play
before it travels on its way,
and leaves you rooted
where you stand
with news of some
forgotten land?
Carton of creation…
a container.
That’s all I am in this world…
a package.
With a particular wrapping and contents
that allows God to express uniquely through me.
Softly and slowly my tears fall as I let the sorrow fill me up and overflow.
I cannot move but for the blinking of my eyes and the sniffing of my nose.
My heart feels crushed - squeezed beyond tolerance by the pain this sorrow exacts.
I have lost all sense of life except for this pain. It is what weighs me down so that
I do not float away.
Lightening stands the sky
slashing light through dark.
Hacking , hewing, the darkness is wrent.
Stroke after stroke the sky is pierced and flayed until
the fury fades, standing down in futility and failure.
The sky, invincible, is victorious.
Nature is so honest. It just is.
When I walk in the woods
I don’t have to pretend –
unless I want to of course.
The tall, beautiful trees stand
so true and silent
as I pass through.
I feel them welcome
and embrace me.
They only see my true Self,
not the fabricated ego.
I am. They are. So simple is the relationship.
That’s what they remind me: that the truth is always so simple.
Truth does not have to be justified or defended.
It cannot be harmed in any way and is eternal.
How does one know the truth?
Not by artificial thought –
It’s energy is so low as to be indistinguishable.
Truth is known by its resonance with the heart,
whose energy is the energy of love – a pure and universal
energy that we humans on this fourth–dimensional plane
are just waking up to. Thought here is still ego based. That is why
it is artificial – it is a mere artificial shadow of true knowledge.
It is not “knowing” – this comes from the Universal Mind and is
accessed through the heart.
Intuition is a small example of this true knowledge and is quite
weak by the time it passes through the artifice of thought to one’s awareness.
Sometimes I feel I cannot bear the burden of being human a moment longer.
I forget that I came in the first place to experience physicality by forgetting and then remembering who I really am. That is the purpose of the journey – to remember and re-express in this illusory world who I am as a universal presence. To break the bonds of the illusion and live in truth.
I trace patterns of you over and over on a dusty window pane.
I chase patterns of you around and around in my mind.
What would your eyes see and your camera capture were
they to turn and focus on me?
I painted a painting that has a porthole of possibility
symbolically painted on it.
No one but me knows what it is – it’s my secret.
Sometimes you just have to do stuff like that….
There are no smart words at this hour,
only eyes that smart from being open too long.
I look through craggy, cavernous sockets at questions
long since tired and gone to bed.
I should have gone to bed too, except they told me I could stay up
as long as I wanted – they didn’t mind.
Questions that came to visit and just stayed on – long after
they had outlived their welcome. Questions that eat
my time and take up my space.
I keep waiting for smart words to come and answer these
questions so that at last they might leave me in peace.
But no smart words come, especially not at this hour.
And my eyes keep stinging and smarting, looking as they do
from these craggy scokets, at the questions that are more
than happy to stay.
I live in dreams and die in waking.
For in dreams my heart is free
and unfettered.
In waking it is once more chained
and imprisoned by the ego of this
illusory world.
September 29th, 2006:
Oh how my heart aches for its freedom.
When I listen to its sweet melancholy
I slip from wake to sleep and enter the
dream world where my heart can laugh
and run care free through the fields of
my imagination.
And then it can be with you, my other
half, my twin soul. Then it aches no more,
for it is once again whole. There my
heart wishes to stay; it doesn’t want to
return to this heaviness – this dullness.
Oh, were it not for the agreement I made
long ago to come here once more and lift
this heavy, dull humanity up to the light,
I would leave now. I’d slip back into my
dreams and never return. I’d unchain my
Heart and fly through eternity.
Thankful am I
for the grace of the sky
and the eyes with which to see
a stormy gray,
a golden ray
or lapis lazuli.
Be it cold or hot,
It matters not,
my heart is warmed the same.
By watching ever changing art,
pictured in God’s frame.
I used to care. I used to care so much it hurt.
Now all I care about is not hurting.
The Proclamation:
Polarities, opposites shading
The light that ever burns
Yet dual world is fading
And world of one returns.
Darkness is but dimness,
A candle barely lit
And illumination’s power
Is best because of it.
Heart rejoice in knowing
That light and dark are one
This truth revealed is showing
Illusion now is done.
A faery woke me from my sleep
and whispered –
“Now not a word, no not a peep!
“I’m going to take you on a roam,
but don’t you fret, I’ll bring you home!”
“We’re going where the others dwell,
to magic places – tree and knell!”
So off we went into the night
of diamond studded twinkling light
And there beneath the forest craft
we danced a jig and laughed and laughed
Until the other creatures came
whose magic we did know by name
A unicorn was first to hear
our merry making and appear
To join our fun and lend her charm
so ne’re a thing could bring us harm
Then came a pixie, gay and bright
And then a giggling water sprite
Two leprechauns , a gnome and dragon
Wandered in with chins a waggin’
“What’s this we hear of fun and stuff
deep in our forest, in the rough?”
“We came to join the party time
and sing and dance a conga line!”
The fireflies did join us too
Like party lights for us to view
And then the bullfrogs lent their strong
Deep throaty voices to the song
And soon the forest rang with sound
And all who heard were magic bound
Until the morning’s light did break
Upon the party’s feverish wake
And then the faery bore me home
To bed and sleep and dreamy dome.
The Cloisters:
The stones that shape this dwelling
whisper in forgotten tongues which
I can hear but cannot understand.
Yet in my heart I know that they
lament their rude abduction.
What might they tell of time
and place were I to hear by touch
of hand, how they were wrested
from their home and brought to
this strange foreign land?
Unicorns have unihorns and uniforms of white (unfinished) Blessed one, beautiful and precious I gazed at you and saw myself revealed; The innermost yearnings of my soul gazed back at me in recognition. How can I know myself except by you? Oh playful radiance, You rush toward yourself Merging in a brilliant burst, lighting up the heavens. Stately sentinel. Powerful presence. Ever mindful of the heart. Only innocence and trust resonate to you purity; and by them are you revealed. Enlightened monarch. Heavenly prince. You know that on this earthly plane perfection has a shadow… …your purity pierces armor more efficiently than swords, and your beauty is the balm that heals all wounds. Ancient and magical – You who exist both in time and not. How else could you live so long, appearing and disappearing as you please. Oh ethereal messenger, alert and alive, you herald a
new awakening; a transcendent age for humanity. Look into the eye and see the
splendor of the unicorn. If this be not beauty then there is no such thing. I breathe into you, You breathe into me. For a moment our edges blur. Only love exists. You urge me forward, I resist in fear. We freeze in mid-stride, separating - back into illusion. Defender, protector, the monster charges. You charge back in mock response, knowing it cannot harm. Playfully nudging, you remind me it is only a dream – I am free to wake up any time I choose. Confronting, challenging. You dare me to wake up from the dream, break with illusion, and boldly join you in the light. Trumpeting joyfully, lifting in laughter, you stretch to poke at the Cosmos in brotherly affection. Earthly realm, no party takes thine own dear trust, Deceived as thou art time upon time. How patience stays thy wrath when all of man defiles thy beauty in ignorance and brutish greed. The face of lust is hideous, yet thou looks upon it as the mother adores her same child. No energy is greater than love, and armed with love thou dost wait for thy prodigal son to return. Is there a heartbeat somewhere that matches my own? What is there in me but that which I see in you? In the heart of my being I hear the sound of you resonate. I sing to that resonance and match its vibration. The loudest voice is the most silent. Every cry is a cry to know you. I speak better with pictures than words; and only intelligently when I speak from the heart. I have grown short in time and long in other things. Things that for their length are very small in stature. Very short – minute in fact, compared to the greater relevance of all that Is. I threw my heart into the Abyss never expecting to feel its beat in my chest again. Yet my heart returned without a sound, without a breath, and began to beat as if it had never left; forgiving and forgetting that I had ever thrown it away. The light of Heaven streams into my darkness and I am overcome. “Have you no shame? I scream, “Revealing me to myself in such nakedness?” It replies with tender, teasing affection, “ I created you. I birthed you. I have always seen your nakedness underneath the folds and shrouds with which you try to hide yourself. Undress and run naked now in the light. Feel the warmth. Feel the freedom. Shiver in ecstasy as I caress your being with all the love of Eternity”. I am solid with sickness, yet transparent and weightless in
being. I am stuck within four walls yet wander the universe freely. I am landlocked and breathe air, yet my Self swims in the
seas and oceans of this planet, communing with my kin from elsewhere. My real family watches me from the stars in the heavens
above and from the
depths of the waters below. Are they happy with my evolution? Do they approve of how I turned out? If ask perhaps they will tell me. I am one of many who are but one. The Ancients call to me with their loving wisdom. My yearning is my call back to them - like a young child lost in the forest. They are not worried, for they know I will find my way home. There’s a place I need to stand now; it’s called “The soles of my two feet”. Firmly anchored on this earth, smack dab in the middle of my humanness. Only then will I release my soul and let it fly into the heavens. What the soul recognizes the head calls crazy – sheer and utter foolishness. Yet the soul knows and the soul yearns For that which has no words but simply …Is. The beauty of all the universes cannot compare to the love of one human heart. It radiates the light of God so brightly even the stars are dimmed by its luminosity. So much love amplified outward into the Cosmos. A marvel to behold. She loved him then, though she did not know it. But he knew, and he waited patiently for her – as if there was no time; for in reality there wasn’t. Stirrings of the heart Brief awakenings Glimmers of higher consciousness Moments of oneness when All is good and right and clear – Perfect – and everything is possible. Come to me please, I wait for you… My heart waits to hear yours beating… My eyes wait for you to look into them And smile at me in recognition. Grace, when I fell from you I fell from myself… I have no wisdom but the air I breathe. Life writes itself. What each of us reads depends on the vantage point from where we are looking; perched as we are on the edge of the book. Spring: The earth slowly wakes from her white sleep. The sunrise, which has been pale and weak, shines bright and buoyant, Illuminating the sky with an effervescent glow. The earth yawns and stretches her languid body, gently slipping from under Winter’s possessive embrace, as Spring beckons her to come and play once more. Ideal: All my life I have loved you though I could not see, touch or feel you except in my heart. There alone you are mine as lover, partner, friend. There alone you share my dreams and love me as I love you. I created you, yearned you into existence – perfect, ideal. And now your shadow darkens my heart. Would that I could let you go and free myself to the light and love Of the one who stands before me. Freedom: This world which seems so concrete and real has become to me merely one of many layers and depths of dimension in my reality. I feel my being flow so far beyond this illusory world, at the same time that it flows with it. The life I know as human really is just a game I’d forgotten I made up. My sense of my Self, my experience spans eternity and infinity; while a part of me plays the hologram of life. I am both player and game piece at the same time. How wonderful to be so free to make it all up any way I
desire. No wonder I have always felt I had one foot in this world
and one foot in another. Ink black sky. Twinkling points of light. One flashes just in front of where I stand, falling quickly downwards and diagonally from right to left. Then it is gone – with permanence. Such words as these bear little resemblance to the truth; for words are products of the intellect, and truth passes
best, that is most directly and least distorted through the heart. If human kind caused the world to burn, to blow up In a fiery ball, it would still be good, still be perfect. For then the earth would become another star whose light
would shine for some other life form on some other planet in some
other galaxy in the universe. It is freeing to know that nothing is inherently wrong. Everything that happens is perfect. In every moment there is an opportunity to choose an interpretation of the
circumstances which elevates one to a higher level of consciousness – or
not. I am real and not real at the same time. My body is not solid nor this earth hard except by belief; except by agreement. Sometimes for the briefest of moments I experience this. Mostly I just understand it. My heart has taken to yearning for you. My mind has taken to seeing your face in everything I do. I have no power over my thoughts – daydreams of you creep in
unbidden. My soul knows you but that is never quite enough. If I had more courage, I would forsake all that I know just
to find you and spend five minutes
looking into your eyes… The Fir Trees: Tall and straight, Immense and great What does the wind whisper to you as it whisks and whirls about your coniferous
limbs? Does it bring you tidings from other lands, of other hands that tinker with time and score the sands and rock and earth which bind you to your brethren? As you sway and bend to its rhythmic lead do you lend a listening that fills its need to tell a tale, and dance and play before it travels on its way, and leaves you rooted where you stand with news of some forgotten land? Carton of creation… a container. That’s all I am in this world… a package. With a particular wrapping and contents that allows God to express uniquely through me. Softly and slowly my tears fall as I let the sorrow fill me
up and overflow. I cannot move but for the blinking of my eyes and the
sniffing of my nose. My heart feels crushed - squeezed beyond tolerance by the
pain this sorrow exacts. I have lost all sense of life except for this pain. It is
what weighs me down so that I do not float away. Lightening stands the sky slashing light through dark. Hacking , hewing, the darkness is wrent. Stroke after stroke the sky is pierced and flayed until the fury fades, standing down in futility and failure. The sky, invincible, is victorious. Nature is so honest. It just is. When I walk in the woods I don’t have to pretend – unless I want to of course. The tall, beautiful trees stand so true and silent as I pass through. I feel them
welcome and embrace me. They only see my true Self, not the fabricated ego. I am. They are. So simple is the relationship. That’s what they remind me: that the truth is always so
simple. Truth does not have to be justified or defended. It cannot be harmed in any way and is eternal. How does one know the truth? Not by artificial thought – It’s energy is so low as to be indistinguishable. Truth is known by its resonance with the heart, whose energy is the energy of love – a pure and universal energy that we humans on this fourth–dimensional plane are just waking up to. Thought here is still ego based. That
is why it is artificial – it is a mere artificial shadow of true
knowledge. It is not “knowing” – this comes from the Universal Mind and
is accessed through the heart. Intuition is a small example of this true knowledge and is
quite weak by the time it passes through the artifice of thought
to one’s awareness. Sometimes I feel I cannot bear the burden of being human a
moment longer. I forget that I came in the first place to experience
physicality by forgetting and then remembering who I really am. That is the purpose of the journey – to
remember and re-express in this illusory world who I am as a universal
presence. To break the bonds of the illusion and live in truth. I trace
patterns of you over and over on a dusty window pane. I chase patterns of you around and around in my mind. What would your eyes see and your camera capture were they to turn and focus on me? I painted a painting that has a porthole of possibility symbolically painted on it. No one but me knows what it is – it’s my secret. Sometimes you just have to do stuff like that…. There are no smart words at this hour, only eyes that smart from being open too long. I look through craggy, cavernous sockets at questions long since tired and gone to bed. I should have gone to bed too, except they told me I could
stay up as long as I wanted – they didn’t mind. Questions that came to visit and just stayed on – long after they had outlived their welcome. Questions that eat my time and take up my space. I keep waiting for smart words to come and answer these questions so that at last they might leave me in peace. But no smart words come, especially not at this hour. And my eyes keep stinging and smarting, looking as they do from these craggy scokets, at the questions that are more than happy to stay. I live in dreams and die in waking. For in dreams my heart is free and unfettered. In waking it is once more chained and imprisoned by the ego of this illusory world. September 29th, 2006: Oh how my heart aches for its freedom. When I listen to its sweet melancholy I slip from
wake to sleep and enter the dream world where my heart can laugh and run care free through the fields of my imagination. And then it can be with you, my other half, my twin soul. Then it aches no more, for it is once again whole. There my heart wishes to stay; it doesn’t want to return to this heaviness – this dullness. Oh, were it not for the agreement I made long ago to come here once more and lift this heavy,
dull humanity up to the light, I would leave now. I’d slip back into my dreams and never return. I’d unchain my Heart and fly through eternity. Thankful am I for the grace of the sky and the eyes with which to see a stormy gray, a golden ray or lapis lazuli. Be it cold or hot, It matters not, my heart is warmed the same. By watching ever changing art, pictured in God’s frame. I used to care. I used to care so much it hurt. Now all I care about is not hurting. The Proclamation: Polarities, opposites shading The light that ever burns Yet dual world is fading And world of one returns. Darkness is but dimness, A candle barely lit And illumination’s power Is best because of it. Heart rejoice in knowing That light and dark are one This truth revealed is showing Illusion now is done. A faery woke me from my sleep and whispered – “Now not a word, no not a peep! “I’m going to take you on a roam, but don’t you fret, I’ll bring you home!” “We’re going where the others dwell, to magic places – tree and knell!” So off we went into the night of diamond studded twinkling light And there beneath the forest craft we danced a jig and laughed and laughed Until the other creatures came whose magic we did know by name A unicorn was first to hear our merry making and appear To join our fun and lend her charm so ne’re a thing could bring us harm Then came a pixie, gay and bright And then a giggling water sprite Two leprechauns , a gnome and dragon Wandered in with chins a waggin’ “What’s this we hear of fun and stuff deep in our forest, in the rough?” “We came to join the party time and sing and dance a conga line!” The fireflies did join us too Like party lights for us to view And then the bullfrogs lent their strong Deep throaty voices to the song And soon the forest rang with sound And all who heard were magic bound Until the morning’s light did break Upon the party’s feverish wake And then the faery bore me home To bed and sleep and dreamy dome. The Cloisters: The stones that shape this dwelling whisper in forgotten tongues which I can hear but cannot understand. Yet in my heart I know that they lament their rude abduction. What might they tell of time and place were I to hear by touch of hand, how they were wrested from their home and brought to this strange foreign land?