Sum philosophy

My past passed before me
As I re-read my journals,
And distance though not distant
(Or was it age?)
Has given the gift, the light
Which is new and fresh and strong.

We are not the bad guys
Doing damage and wrecking ourselves,
But ordinary horsemen
Finding our ways through brush
Of our planting, tearing at us
As though strong comes of strength shown.

The good days were some bad
And glad, and sad
As scared we trampled
Ourselves to discover we learn.
Mere children, just larger.

Age and change shows in my mirror.
I must be about my business
And you
And yours as I pass this night
Alone and wanted
To the promise of dawn that
Only the reflective shall see
As I defined it for any this season.

Peace is
fulfilling those dreams of a lifetime
in incremental fashion
in their time:
to be who you are not
without apology
(as I release the anger and sadness inside me).

What counts is the solitary journey
and how well you travel and improve
against where you started.
They may pass you on the highway,
But they're not going where you are.

And too, every site has its solar application.

The didactic lives in the hearts of those who care,
And forgiveness two.

[Christmas 1988, originally titled Reflection]

One of the best . . .

I pass along to thee
Leaves from my learning tree.
And though allusions you'll escape,
Drape thyself in this book's cape.
When you discover, Come from toil:
Your own ideas will from this soil.
And to thy kin and folk alike
You'll pass on your part, this life's rite--
From which all things from good do come.
And more and much, lots, and then some.

[Having given a book that Christmas, one of 'em before 1991.]

Past New

1.

Pray, sweet pensive ladies.
Dost thou pray?
Or, are these but dreams
that do occupy you?
If dreams, mayst I join two?
(Just a third
in unholy threesome
strikes not my fancy.)
I'd even the wheel,
if but to help carry thy burden.
Wheels are useful
and oft-times needed.

2.

If prayer is thy treat,
I'd join with you,
a loving warrior,
not soft retreat:
To god's will in co-creating thine.
Where two are gathered
begets the third
and in god-like oneness
embraces all.

3.

Do you pray?
Or are you dreaming.
Together as one?
Or together as two.
Beget the third.
What do you think?

4.

(Oh, pensive ladies,
I'd the fourth!
And gladly be . . .)

[March 30, 1994? I believe Ann and Robin inspired this . . . ]

Prelude to Hello

I am a verb.
You thought I was a noun.
Perhaps I was in your eyes.
That makes it so.
I know.
You are a verb.
I thought you a noun.
You said no.
I saw the wall.
Nouns are the stuff of subjects and objects.
The things acted upon and acting.
Like walls.
I am not subject,
not object.
Nor are you.
I know.
And in the knowing,
the -ing -ing of being,
I am.
You are.
You are a verb.
I am one too.
The is-ness of being
in a moment of light
incredible light
the lightness in being
an elusive illusive
it
makes it so.
Then, only then,
we can come to
and know.

[March 30, 1994?]

Poem 4-11

It's impossible
to walk softly
in these woods.
They aren't soft.
They are.
And as she is,
we who walk
can or can't
what we want
with inflated tires--
to ride
the snowy hill
or traverse
through mud.
Although we try,
dressed
in warm clothes
to conquer her--
silly all-terrain,
some capsules
to protect us
from what?
Ourselves.
To walk softly
in these woods,
impossible.
They are.
And She is.
It's I am
that prevents
it so.
To conclude.
We walk.
She is.

[March 30, 1994?]

Know Words

Listen in silence
to the deepest heart
of your heart
where the essence of you
is joined in oneness
with the divine
--soul and spirit--
and tell me
how the grass grows,
how the flowers bloom,
how the sun shines.

If you find no words
but you find
that you know
without them,
tell me that then
for in the unspeakable:
that's where I sometimes am.
The bonds that bind me--
they are the words.
I can go beyond the words,
but they call me back.
I cannot help it;
nor can we
who know either way.

How does the grass grow?
How do the flowers bloom?
When will we bathe
in the light
in the sun
I cannot tell you
how hard it is to wait.
I listen in silence
in the deepest heart
of my heart

to join in oneness
with the divine.

[March 30, 1994]