A Prayer for Inner Peace

Hopefully everyone has had a very peaceful New Years so far.  And on that note, Mary is tending to tonights Poetics over at D'Verse, where she's discussing just that, Peace.  Please do stop by, read her wonderful article and check out what the other poets have shared.  

And while you're there, may you be filled with both inner and outer peace.  May you find yourself a sanctuary, a respite, from all that ails.   Reflect upon all the things that make you whole and bring you calm, delivering you to your center and all the peace it therein spawns.  

Then, as you stay basking in your blissful glow, if the inspiration finds you there, inhale, take it in and let it grow and grow.  And if you so choose, please do share, for the peace you find, may it find others as well.

I can't tell you how nice it was to find this topic today.  I've been kind of in a certain mode all day, where but only for an hour or so did I make my way beyond the confines of my bedroom walls, only to let the dogs outside and for a few other times of necessity. 

While this hibernation of sorts was certainly a consequence of a massive wave of exhaustion, and while the plethora of sleep it spurred was dearly needed, there's a sense of lost time, wasting the day and sorts that comes with it.  

So, for the past short while now I've been awake.  With the waking grogginess still fresh, I had felt a bit down that I did indeed accomplish nothing whatsoever today.  But, with opening up D'verse tonight changed that mindset simply by seeing the word peace.  

That word, and all it can encompass, instantly brought a reality forth.  Briefly, for the past 20 hours or so, I've been disconnected from everything: light, sound, television, internet, radio, books and magazines.  I only had a very brief conversation with my family earlier in the day. And while I did have my dogs with me for most of the sleeping hours, I was truly apart and away from everything.  

It matters not that it was not by my own choosing either.  This getting away, while revitalizing the body with the rest needed, also, now that I can truly reflect upon it, also provided the mind a sorely needed revitalization of it's own kind.

So, I didn't really have anything prepared to write for this theme tonight, I thought I'd share this story, as it obviously relates, but, seeing this is poetics I thought I'd put a short poem together as well.  

Please, please, please

Let me close my eyes

Please, I beg, please

Let me awaken to

A peaceful serenade,

A Shangri-La, in gentle sway

to fall into

Please, please, please

Bring me love and bring me peace

then, I'll pray, then I'll pray

that I’ll know its face when you do

on that day, and I’ll reciprocate unto

Never letting go, never letting go

Always, forever, always and forever

Having something to hold on to

Embraced always, always embraced

Forever—a warmth, a warmth revealed, 

a smile sealed, embraced and healed,

embraced and healed

The Burden of an Oracle

listen to ‘The Burden of The Oracle (Part I)’ on Audioboo

listen to ‘The Burden of The Oracle (Part II)’ on Audioboo

The forecast’s often are birthed in unwanted severity—

The pictures that forever play upon the never-ending reel within my mind are images no man should ever bear—it is a depicted reality that you truly believe could not play out any worse

And yet it does open the door for future suffering—the exciting looks upon those who dare me cast deep into their pools, to fish out hope in a sea of undeserving possibility—only to watch all sentiment of reason for being to deflate instantaneously to my very words—somehow ousts the depravity of the vision’s themselves

I’m truly sorry, I really am

perhaps I could lie; perhaps such untruths would be both merciful and generous—I suppose packaging the ugly realities with pretty bows and exaggerations, could do a service—

Seeing the future churns the stomach weaker, as each image

takes you into another’s soul—where forced you are, to watch, to understand, how an individual’s fate unfolds—you are left then, being only able to report the consequence and never able to change

the facet’s or the facts. I am powerless in all regards, yet, to some,

I’m lauded as if I’m some type of God—

Mankind so very wishes to understand each premonition that hovers deftly above their vessel, but what they do not care to understand, is the utter strain it is bearing witness to such horrible events, which, I must, in most instances, unfortunately report as one would the evening news—where death and devastation are all too common the thematic realities, future’s seen, that I wish I’d never dream

Yet, there then are those extremely rare and special cases, the kinds that are covered in lilies and rainbows, who’s wonderfully formed innocence, prance around a garden of delight, entirely open and receptive to all the flavors purity offers—and I see them waving their hellos with the happiest of smiles and even when the end is what the vision’s suggest, there is not regret painted upon such sights, there are no wrenching moments of tormenting scowls to cause streaming floods of agonizing reality—there are but calm and peaceful moments of acceptance, of those souls fully prepared to take their invitation to join the feast the maker’s justly presented in their honor—it’s these scenes, these scents of purity cast from within the painted lights, that rekindled what potential I’d seemingly mistaken for penance, igniting within me, a reason to believe once more, an understanding of why I see

It is from a desire not to know, for I know, above any other, how dangerous such learning can offer those unprepared to understand—it takes a rare breed to take acceptance by her hand and walk peacefully, without regret ever shading the pathway, into a bathing light so in-tune and aligned with destiny, a destiny where you must simply believe in your guide as being your ultimate defense, your safe-keeper in whatever might come next—you must give yourself over to her completely, allow faith to outrank any sense your mortal life had previously instructed you to grasp

It is, partially out of fear, partially out of a commitment to let events play out their natural course, to believe fully that destiny is not as predetermined as my life’s work would otherwise dictate and suggest…and of course, there are many more reasons for such an opinion, reasons beyond the scope of oneself—it is in part, for such reasons and more, that I have removed all mirrors and other like-minded reflective devices from my immediacy, for to know ones fate is unnatural, to see into one’s very own eyes and peer deeply upon the soul is a vision I fret to know, a sight I care never to see, until, of course, the finality has thrust it’s sword firmly within me…to which I can only pray to have the strength of being, to extend my hand, with every ounce of determination that remains available to me then and there, and accept what shall be, and leave this battlefield accepting that what’s been, and what shall be, as a choice I’ve played a role in relating, one that can truly offer more than any premonition could ever explain away

 Head on over to D'Verse for Open Link Night and accept the fact that there's some truly amazing poets at play, who offer themselves completely in their poetry, which they've so generously shared for everyone's benefit.  Enjoy all the work that's been linked up and while you're there, link a poem of your own, for other's to enjoy.  Cheers...

Just Beneath the Cage: Internal Conflict & Resolution

I see you see the scarecrow

I see you saw the goat

I see you understand now

I understand you don’t

I see you found the knife fine

I see you’ve hid your throat

I see you stare the mirror

I see you saw right through

I see you shed your coating

I see yours has blistered too

I see why you hate me

I’m so glad you do

Through Inhalation,

I summon air

Through Exhalation,

I make it disappear

two ends of a process

different yet the same

two directions travelled

connected but estranged

I’ve seen you and your glory,

I’ve seen you and all your fame

I’ve seen how you are blamed,

I see in you much shame

I see you expire,

I see you return,

I can’t escape you,

that much I am sure

I’ve seen your attempts at leaving,

I’ve seen you come back to me,

I can’t afford to lose you

for together we are one

I see you love me dearly,

I see your forgiveness, each and every time

I see you as intended,

I see in bone we are the same

I see you always bring the answers

to the questions I’ve yet to name

I see you see the scarecrow,

yet choose not to run away

I see you saw the goat,

yet never chose to boast

I see you understand now

I see something I do

I see you found the knife fine

I see no need,

  to guard yourself from me

I see you stare the mirror,

tell me what you see?

I see what you’ve always shown,

I thought I’d find religion,

but it’s your face I now see

I mirror your reflection,

yet it’s your eyes I now see

returning gaze to me

I see you’ve shed your coating

I see no difference between the two

I see what I’ve always known,

I see how much you love me,

Surfacing from way down deep inside

I’m so glad you can

I’m so glad you do

Through inhalation

 We summon the air

Through exhalation

 We cleanse away impurity,

Accepting each our many sides

Join me over at D'Verse for another outstanding edition of Open Link Night.  Stop by and check out the wonderful work submitted this week and while you're there, share a poem of your own.  Cheers! 

A Question of Artistry (part II)

Artists

Among

Artistry

Delving deeper

Into the space

Where art

And ART

Meet

Does a spot exist, amidst the boils of creation, for respect?

Or will the Artist, flee from tradition—

To expression’s end,

And find value

In the incorporation

Of the old with his new artistry

Will a jade pin collapse

The pore-like jitters    *Conscience)

And will the tingles properly

Illustrate what mind believes

May be inappropriate if not damnable

Or will

The Artist

Create

As he’s always done

And has

Always been encouraged to do

Or will he abandoned

All he ever knew to know

All he ever knew how to be

Heraldic Pause

A girth of permanence befalls the sullen

As beams persistent shine through bars

Climbers, spotted-skewed into

Chambers coerced, drift to view

An ancestry unnerves

As tomes shift apart, drifting still whilst still in hand

Sowing promiscuity with their implied art,

Atop of chiseled monuments, dull & grey-

Unable to purvey, the template of messaging, clearly on display

While sediment filches prominence,

From a once heraldic crest,

Weeds sprout, coveting wetness from thresholds lost, bereft

A gradation, burnt engrained

Engulfs the masquerader

Pinching solemnities close, into and about,

In a fraction’s grasp of logic, sensibilities curtail,

Divorcing gifted identity, the mirage has been espoused

Alert to one’s own sparseness

Mismanaged ebbs contort the face

A dalliance of ovation, in frivolities shape and sound

Symbols linger, coagulate upon

A dusty acreage vinaigrette’s prepackaged tarmac, so easily the spawn

Weathered kin unto histories

Within Sonoma’s mystery

 Where-out the laughter’s drought

Ruffled dragonfly

Too young to know any better

Soon as wings fret to fringe

Ephemeral splotches parse

A brief occupation of epiphany:

The crest is first worn inside out