Tuesday, June 28, 2016

The impedimenta of desire

The impedimenta of desire      

Evolution in the course of a lifetime
might be interpreted

not as consciousness expanding
but of encumbrances shed

yet so few and paltry
that little more light shines through

at the end than in the beginning,
always threatened by smudges of vice,

the impedimenta of desire
to overwhelm the journey’s

natural divestiture and unveiling.
Aeons it seems, requires the process,

the gathering up, the breaking off,
littering the landscape, a-tisket, a-tasket,

the mortal, humble basket,
until each entombed core of light

triumphs over the encrusted alias
of Who, by faith, we really are.

O child of God, hide not your lamp
beneath the bushel but let it shine.

Tuesday, June 21, 2016

Orb of the heart

Orb of the heart         

The center of the sky once was earth,
the movements of planets and stars

erratic, calculations difficult and complex.
The sun took over and flights clicked

more easily into discernible patterns.
And when the center of the sky

became a distant, conjectured,
long-ago point of origin, the earth,

stars and planets began to interact
in simple, calculable and precise ways,

parts of an infinite, well-oiled machine.
As long as that blue, stone cold

orb of the heart is taken to be
the center of the universe,

every outward movement,
every body spinning beyond

will be judged as erratic and arbitrary,
inexplicable and incalculable.

O child of God, the truth makes things
o-so-much-more effortless and clear.

Tuesday, June 14, 2016



The closer you get to truth,
the more tightly wound

around itself is paradox,
the linear poles gone limp,

loosely knotted like shoelaces.
Oneness is attained (apparently)

by disassociation from the illusion of self.
These deftly orbiting aggregates don’t mean

the hub exists as more than a not-quite-arbitrarily
selected point in space, a makeshift home

where we might hang our cognizant hats
until we’re ready to walk away from it all.

There is only one attachment to break
(which propagates all others) –

Oneness is attained by disassociation!
O pilgrim, honor your name –

quit the symbiotic partnership
that binds you to one spot

and venture forth, toward
whatever there may be beyond.

O child of God, infinity has no center.
To what do you daily tether yourself?

Monday, June 6, 2016

The truth of illusion

The truth of illusion          

Moths circle the lamp, hover and hurtle,
attracted to the flame but, also

driven from the midst
of its dark surroundings.

You reach God (they say)
when you come to the end of yourself.

You get wise.  It’s the truth of illusion
that shatters, that jades;

the truth of illusion that bores, sates,
disheartens, disenchants.

You rush toward God when God
outshines His surroundings.

When the dark has gobbled you up –
bones and blood,

you rush and flail
and hurl yourself toward the light;

seeing there’s nothing of worth
in the darkness to leave behind.

O child of God, turn from illusion
toward the way, the truth, the light.