Sunday, December 23, 2012

Center of Wealth: a gift of presence

A scathing lifeline descends upon the premise unnamed. As precious frayed, as it ever was first believed.

Finding one's center is never as simple as making a decision, a statement or declaration that says "I will find a grounding today"

Earth rests beneath.  immobile yet spanning a distance beyond the present scope of script.

nestled warm beneath one's root, too often becomes the occupation rather than the desire.

We travel expansive depths to share our blood unto the soils in which we sow our seeds within/upon

limitations are not endings.  chapters are intermeshed, entwined. codas everlasting.  Plots are open, free to challenge, to explore.  We are afar despite within our beds we sleep.  We are home in spite of the location of our presents find our blood within.

Limitations are bound only to this realm.  limitations have not been proven.  They are every only guesses garnered upon the soul by the souls of the untested


I have a story to tell.  It may not be of interest to anyone other than ghosts.  Yet I can speak to them.  That is, if I have the proper crystals to meditate upon. and if you'd hear them sing, then song would inspire you to locate future's boundaries yet unclaimed.

Darkness breaks before the dawn shimmers it's first quivering fragment of light.  Dawn glides gently into the blanketing surrounding of dusk, enveloping us in a deluge of evening that is as unique as it is not rare.

We move between many worlds.  We shift seamlessly in and out of.  We are unaware, yet knowledge does indeed subconsciously divide.

Fortune is not measured by coinage accrued.  if it did... well, many of us would be as poor in health as we are in walking daylight,

a burden. inhaling our castes. to haunt everlasting.

distorted then. askew. yet pierced with fire, singed by frozen blade. disoriented yet not afraid. for conscience bears wherewithal. A knowledge harnessed deep within. albeit brutal the manner to which our days be spent. regretfully, the tides may disencumber what's been made, what we've toiled our entire lives to find, work towards, and yet the tides may disencumber if deemed to constrain the growth our gardens had originally been planted for.


Solstitial flagellation is found and you know not the accepted course.  Stars scream as you encounter the laceration's of truth's gaze.
in-tune   to a silence that sleeps as peaceful as most lions wake


Indigo guidelines harbor the beacons evenly placed upon the placid calm.  Silent refrains echo from above, beneath.  Breath is abbreviated, yet full.  Eyes are clouded and murky, but see we do.  Touch is invisibly felt, yet immersed we thrive. words mean nothing when in-submission.  thoughts though, they build temples upon stars.

a grey net meshing collapses over our nestled tombs.  As if materials from this realm can ensnare those who walk the avenues unseen.

Eyes. alit. Reawakened. Whole. Renewed. Alive. free


Lifetimes are but a rambling of decades.  Decades a corroboration of years.  Years collect the seasons full.  Seasons take their wisdom from the months endured within.  months succumb to the days that fight direction.  Days are comprised of hours.  Hours then of minutes.  Minutes of seconds slipping silently yet not as slow as one would seem. Patience though is timeless
Presently oblivious
a present to the blind
lines move
and our necks can see
forward, up and wide
as if movement was never meant to be, yet be, it does just the same

the spine straightens
and the ghosts
well, they remain….and that is fine
for they should not inspire fear
we should not run,
instead smile
invite them to the comfort that they seek
thank them always
for their presence
is a gift
the grounded can properly conceive.


Karin's opened up the bar and is at the helm of this week's Poetics at D'verse.  Stop on by, read her article and those poems written in response to her offering of Presents/Presence.

For me, I thought i'd do a guided stream of consciousness piece, that incorporates some eastern concepts while trying my best to stay as true as possible with this week's theme.


  1. so much depth in this fred...just feel like i'm diving up from a trip deep to the ground of the ocean, of time...esp. loved the part with the months, days, hours...and then...Patience though is just shifts the balance in a totally different direction..well done

  2. I agree that: "yet knowledge does indeed subconsciously divide"

  3. PS, Edit: You said, "then song would inspire", but I think you meant, "THEIR song"

    1. nope. Then is correct. I'm not referring to any particular song, but the idea of song in general.

  4. the laceration of truth, what a turn of phrase that...i like the thought of not fearing our ghosts but inviting them in as well...disarming them....and patience, now there is a gift...smiles.

  5. Like the little breaks you added in between, as it changes the thought and gives quite the mind spin, today at your bin. Patient we all must be too, even though sometimes that escapes my zoo.

  6. Fascinating writing here. Meandering yet depthful!

    Happy Holidays to you.....


  7. Yes it is so difficult to find our own center, our balance and our grounding and, is only achieved in absolute stillness and yet when we can do it, the rewards are so fantastic. I was never sure of whether there is life after death until I learned to really meditate now, I know there is so much more to we humans than just this life we live. We just need to open up and let the universe in. Yes, we have had quite a few paranormal things happen that have not scared us.
    Really enjoyed this Fred.
    Merry Christmas to you.

  8. HI Fred - you are absolutely right that if one is grounded one is at home - even if the ghosts are also company. I think there is great richness here - I think that if you could distill it even more it would work better - there is so much great thought and imagery, but I think a lot of readers are discouraged by length! (I hope you don't mind.) There is so much sweetness and thoughtfulness here. k.

  9. This entire write intrigued me, the stream of consciousness feel and introspective voice commanded a continued read. My favorite part? Limitations are only bound by this realm. Yes!

  10. '...the tides may disencumber what's been made...'
    I love that line, Fred. Pure poetry. The whole piece has a very otherworldly feel that seems like a perfect meal for hungry ghosts and thirsty spirits, yet it is also, to use your word, very grounded. Happy solstice, my friend.

  11. Wow, Fred. This is deep and, yes, grounding. Everything about winter seems to call us (me) toward reflection, meditations. Beautifully read and expressed.

  12. ..i could agree with you in some of your observations here.. i,too, sometimes find myself in some kind of internal meditation... contemplating on things that goes around: tangible or not... real or unreal... the moving between many worlds are always true... and in moving we hope to find answers to all that we asked intentionally or unintentionally 'bout this and that... limitations are not ending... for it's not been proven... how clever to dig such thought of you... being concious 'bout everything in the world could be both an epic to happiness or could be a start of perpetual tragedy... great..great depth to contemplate in this...

    Merry Christmas to you and family...


  13. very interesting piece. I enjoyed that you recited it, as I think much of the emphasis would have been lost if I were to have read it only.

    About half way through, I scrolled ahead as I was listening, curious about the length, and once I read your note about it being a stream of consciousness using Eastern philosophies, the remainder of the piece made so much sense. I guess I needed to know your frame of reference at the beginning instead of the end.

    From "indigo skies" on I was entranced. Very cool. That section in particular goes perfectly with your blog's background. :)