SONGS FROM & FOR THE SPIRIT
                               High (1963)
This is dry, limestone plateau country
where the meanest tree has the frozen poetry of dancing,
a poetry at once simple and many fingered
in the blue, undisturbed mind of the sky.
In Lathkill Dale, an army of trees protects the solitude
of a crystal river, waiting to blossom,
taking fertility from wetted, mossy stones,
where you need no Wordsworth, Keats, Ginsberg or Shelley:
but, beyond the visual I cannot describe
an aboriginal dreamtime where colours of Earth are clothed,
hidden by smug English greenery. 
The village is of stone, among stone, 
that immortality of stone that only the sculptor in
man has not forgotten, or finds unsatisfying now!
Looking back across the karst, you see 
the magic of Monyash-Village lies in the haze, 
in the vastness of a valley’s gradual, unpromising birth
and this haze is the people’s contentment!
The moss is young on the dry-stone wall, 
built long-ago by long-forgotten hands, and thrills; 
I thought “Can we only feel the direct pleasure of life 
in such primeval forms and have to seek it out, 
wearisomely, in greater complexities, 
with their greater personalities, in cities?” 
In Millers Dale I mused: “Was the valley made by the river 
or was the valley made for the river?* 
The temple for the fountain 
or, within the temple, the fountain?” 
On Monsal Dale crags I cried; “Oh Sun-god, 
possess me, who, in the karst-land gave me intoxicated ** serenity!
That I could worship as a child 
in this roofless, crag-corbelled house for ever! 
Live forever in the Eternity of this blest moment!”
(But Time said I must go back to Sheffield and London City)
There are catkins on the tree at the top of the ravine 
and coolness reigns over the river below, Oh so green!
This is the moment of prayer; Our Fathers made Cities, 
But they could never make this, 
so ‘God’ had to, and as we had to create our own, 
the Earth created itself and is the God I, here, have known, 
more ecstatic than all those religious ones 
that haunt the city mind and are Fear!
I want to put pen to sketchpad and take you home with me, 
Oh Sun-god, but I fail to capture your spirit in a picture 
as I can more intimate things 
and yet this is the most intimate of all!
It has captured me
and set me free!
Thinking of the Crescent Moon Poems of Rabindranath Tagore (at Fowey, 1965)
Stranger, you are alone on the beach now
(except for two children) why did you go
in December drizzle there?
Leafless trees,
tormented seas
do not seduce like summers fair;
as a child, I bent down easily
where I am standing, wistfully,
and contemplated, running fingers
through sand, endlessly:
but what, what whispers
in the ocean’s frightening expanses?
I can talk on many a learned theme,
my life is struggle, casting off dreams,
I can let my hair down with a drink, a song,
a woman or music – why do I still long
to crouch, aboriginal, like some primeval
thinking ape, finding the simple ‘feel’ of sand?
But do and soon am building dykes with my hand,
irrigating make-belief plains
(or devastating them) heedless that grey sky rains, rains;
the surging tide sweeps over my walls,
jump back, look up, and on me falls
new meaning to my embarrassed, childlike motion
of feverishly eager fingers in unresisting,
unrewarding, primordial soil – sand; the faceless ocean,
its scurrying grains sweeping,
seems to be laughing, exulting, 
and I am at one with it, as I was
when the child could bear to gaze
upon it, engaging surf in struggle
for sand kingdoms, so little
in myself, before Water’s ageless, godlike power,
I’ve snatched from it a planned shape, a flower
of my own creating, the rediscovery
of my ego’s first act of self-discovery,
lifted my eyes again
to search the waves for wild-rigged Visions!

FOOTNOTES to “High”
*The Wye Valley in Derbyshire, England, between Buxton and Bakewell is a rift caused by fault lines in the limestone strata & collapsed strings of caverns and so could lead to a river forming within its crags, once it had formed itself, from disrupted underground streams.
** “karst”, a geological term for waterless limestone upland, usually worn bare of soil by ice-age glaciers.  

The Disembodied Voice
I
Third Eye
of God in
the triangle,
in you, yet above you,
watch you live or die as you chose
according to how you your own karma made:
I
survey
your body
writhing in the conflict
of your own desire energies,
know your pain is the twin of your pleasure;
accept this and know that joy & grief are separable;
when you were complacent in your ways,
you could not be shown your energies
tangled with your past experiences
for you to receive breath
of new life as you
so longed for
with She so
beloved!
I
the light
from the Buddhic plane
of intuitions bright
in your dreams, see hands on throat-
Life! Never deny yourself! See the pain!-
cannot relieve the urges of your fevered Will;
you die on the Plane of Emotion beyond all aid
of puny reason. My power grows from within you,
I 
watch you
work of your karma
of guilt, fears, longings,
the guilt of disappointing Anne
exorcised by such love for she who suffers!
Hold to the Power of New Energies I will give you
even as your body wrecks itself with drugs & drink,
so you will find transcendence & escape the Wheel
of Fate befallen you, after paying the price!
Crack up! Let go! Fall into fragments! Weep!
Be one with al that lives, the love you knew
was energy transforming! See your corpse
of Yesterday’s illusions, so
that you may live again,
when your time comes,
so, love her untill
another new
 flow comes,
to free 
you from the 
memory of her plight!
Delight that you had happiness & knew
a better way to feel at one, as when 
you lovers learnt to give
without  counting the cost,
tension discharged
of suppressed, orgasmic psycho-
sexual energies on one scream,
nerve cut by hand that strangled,
by hands grasp on neck cold! (1966)
NOTES on the above
The above message from Spirit came about in the wake of an attempted suicide, at the time of a mental breakdown & attempted suicide of a lover, a ‘divine intervention’ not from without, but from within, as one’s spirit body detaches itself from one’s ‘lower being’, in an out-of-body experience, to seek to heal the remainder of the suffering person. The Healing Spirit is often one’s own eternal spirit seeking to heal one’s own life, answering the mind’s desperate prayers! 

Christ Was Alone (Leeds, Spring 1970)
Christ was alone,
I was alone,
everyone is alone,
but no one is alone!
Experience is a grave-
yard where death is nothing,
for life forever is, sing
of being for shadows
are but its reflections,
though fear would have us believe
that the sun dies at
each chill loss’s sunset,
as if the Earth were flat
and not a ball of fire,
patterned to fertility
by more than Man’s desire,
prey to such futility,
surrounded by so much vibrant beyond!
The Power that glows on the mountain,
the flower that blows briefly in town’s dust
are one and no pain or struggle see
in melting city walls;
they seek no plunder,
not kill so uselessly
as jealous barbarians
at the Empire’s gates,
for ‘twas in Judaea’s wilderness,
in a quiet thought
that Rome fell with all its evils
and needed not to fear
the end it longed for!
       Walking Inner Space (1972)
EVERY BREATHING OF THE FLESH
IN THIS UNNATURAL AGE
IS AN ECSTATIC ACT OF FAITH,
THERE IS NO GRAVITY
OF SECURITY
ANYMORE
AND GALAXIES OF VIBRANT THOUGHTS
PULSE OUT OF RHYTHMIC, LIVING WELLS
AND THE EARTH, THAT HALF-DEAD,
OFTEN RAPED & BEAUTIFUL
BODY OF OUR MOTHER
OPENS HER WOMB OF NIGHT-TIMES
AND SUCKS IN OUR ERECT MAN-EGOES
INTO HER ORGASMS,
WHENCE HER WONDROUS
& PROTOPLASMIC
CHILDREN SWARM
INTO OUR THUNDERING RIVER
OF RESTLESS BLOOD THAT POURS
THROUGH OUR JUNGLES OF IMAGES
THAT HANG THEIR GROTESQUE DREAM-BRANCHES
INTO THE UNEASY SWAMPS OF THE SLEEPING MIND
WHERE MADNESS IS THE BEAST THAT LURKS
AMONGST THE GIANT ORCHIDS OF OUR VISIONS
HUNG FROM THE CREEPERS TWINED INTO OUR BRAINS
WHOSE MANGROVE ROOTS GRIP DEEP INTO
THE SEDIMENTS OF OUR ENDLESS YESTERDAYS!

   On St Katherine’s Point, Fowey (1973)
Spreading old tree
(Summer-crown-shade),
as many armed as Shiva,*
solid trunk scepter
of growing life thrust
from leaf-heaped headland rock!
You breathe,
breath green
through myriad
mounds of leaves
that stretch,
sign of Truth **
webbed with skin,
transparent,
full of mouths
of cells of life!
You reach
in al directions
to the Sun,
sun that convulses
in fissions of heat,
green cells that pulse
in fusions of air
of Light,
I write
Holy Light!
in dappled shade
of silhouetted shade and light;
thought is
half-light, half-shadow
of convulsing cells
in our brains!
In full light,
in the hot meadow,
thought is flooded, speeded to capture
the whirr and tremble of colours
and shapes and insects and flowers
and thrusts of leaf,
forest of leaf! Awareness
rushes with the speed of ants and wasps
that generate endless energy from the Sun
and move too fast for thought!
(Thought needs
dapples shade)
and a Man
stretches out his arms,
his breath, his vision
(webbed with skin),
his body rooted like a tree
in physical, material need;
he stretches out his trunk
with the tree,
to the air,
to the light,
to the life,
to the truth,
to the convulsion
of Energy,
inscribes symbol
from the stretching leaf
that marks, but never circumscribes
his joy,
his urge,
his strength,
his breath,
his song!
Thus, the tree is guru
to the point ***
but the light
teaches the Man!
Footnotes to the Above
* “Shiva”  refers to the image of the many  arms  of the circle of fire of the ‘dancing Shiva’, the Hindu Deity of all Creation and Destruction.
** “The truth sign, the ancient Egyptian Ank has a similar form to that of the basic veins of a leaf.
*** “Point” , in this case, means, simply ‘headland’, as in the title of the poem.
The Tree itself is a huge, ancient spreading oak, on the very ‘crown’ of the headland that juts out with its small fortress between the English Channel and River Fowey estuary/harbour, creating beneath it a sheltered hollow.  
I
I & I
EYE & EYE
HUMANS STAND BIG
IN OUR OWN WORLDS,
LARGEST INSIDE OUR HOUSES,
SMALLER IN OUR VILLAGES,
SMALLEST IN OUR  SOCIETIES,
ONE OF MANY SOCIETIES
THAT CLUSTER, LARGE
IN OUR OWN LAND,
LARGEST IN OUR VALLEY,
SMALLER IN OUR COUNTRIES,
SMALLEST IN THE WIDE WORLD,
ONE OF MANY WORLDS;
HUMANITY
SPREADS WIDE, HUGE,
LARGEST  IN THE CITY,
SMALLER IN THE FARMLANDS,
SMALLEST IN THE FOREST WILDERNESS,
MERE PINPRICKS
OF LIGHT UPON THE EARTH,
AS TRANSIENT AS DUST,
TO BE BLOWN, ON DEATH,  ON THE WIND,
THIS EARTH
TO US, SO HUGE,
LARGEST IN OUR SOLAR SYSTEM,
SMALLER IN OUR GALAXY,
MINUTE  IN THE ‘MILKY WAY’
ONE OF MANY
SUCH LUMPS OF ROCK,
WHICH GALAXY
SEEMS INFINITE,
VASTEST IN ITS OWN SPACE,
SMALLER IN THE SPACE BEYOND,
MINUTE IN ETERNITY!
MYRIAD PROTONS, NEUTRONS,
MAKE ATOMS, ATOMS
MAKE MOLECULES,
MYRIAD MOLECULES
MAKE CRYSTALS,
PROTOPLASM, AMOEBAS, CELLS;
MYRIAD  CELLS MAKE OUR BODIES
AND THUS OUR EGO SHRINKS
INTO DUST MINUSCULE. ARE WE
THEN TO FEEL CRUSHED BY THIS
VASTNESS OF THE UNIVERSE?

NO! ENERGY IS,
IS FROM ETERNITY
INTO ETERNITY,
IS IN THE PROTON
& HENCE MUST BE IN ALL,
VIBRATING MILLIONS, BILLIONS,
TRILLIONS OF ENERGIES
IN OUR MYRIAD CELLS,
IN I,
IN I-&-I,
IN SOCIETY,
IN HUMANITY,
IN OUR VIBRANT PLANET,
IN SOLAR SYSTEM & GALAXY,
IN MILKY WAY THROUGHOUT THE UNIVERSE!
THUS WE VIBRATE IN EVERY SENSE
ALONG THE AXES OF AWARENESS
THAT RUN FROM MICROCOSMOS,
ALL  THROUGH TO MACROCOSMOS,
JAH RASTAFARI!  (1983)
  Babylon/Zyon (Reggae Song, 1984)
Traveling down a highway,
cars speed city to city,
green hills of people empty,
most people in the City;
Babylon is brick walls around everyone,
Babylon is faces like brick walls,
is concrete dole or factory jails,
a concrete institution for everyone!

Floating along a highway,
leaving behind the city,
dales and woods are so pretty,
wearing green Summer dresses;
Great Spirit on hills dances, high into the sky!
Great Spirit here entrances, gets you high!
Great Spirit here first flow through everything,
in Earth, Air, Fire & Water sing!

Hurrying along a highway,
do you never ask ‘why?’,
mind walled by walls of city,
never rising to the sky;
walls of house to walls of office or factory,
to walls of shops or pubs inside your car,
walls of prejudice, walls of security,
Babylon  for you no need police or key!

Dreaming along a highway,
just swimming with the flow,
seeing all there is around us,
seeing all we need to know!
Cut loose from all hassle, let yourself get high!
Great Spirit from the Mountain call to Eye-&-Eye!
Babylon is Mind locked inside city wall,
Zyon is to fly free where Great Spirit calls!   
NOTES on the above
“Eye & Eye” is a West Indian Rastafarian ‘religious’ term referring to ourselves, together, as a ‘soul-beings’ aware of Spirit, or oneself as ‘seeing & been seen’.
“Babylon” (from the Old Testament Captivity of the Jews) refers to any unjust, imprisoning or oppressive society or social system, but especially alien urban areas, whilst “Zyon” is the promised land, a Paradise-to-come-on-Earth for all  humanity, for which, as Bob Marley  sang “none but ourselves can free our minds” 
         The Rainbow-Bird Song
After the rain, breaks through the sun
and, through the rain, a rainbow’s span,
breaks like laughter from a tear,
breaks like spring-flowers from winter!

Colours of all that makes all life,
red of heat’s power to violet,
colours of all elements of sun
as makes our Earth the Sun’s daughter!

Once we were nothing then we were born
and grew from an egg to fullness;
out of the womb, our opening eyes
first flooded with light, then we asked why?

We do what we must to survive
and not all brings us love and laughter:
but, ne’er forget as, to dawn, we awake
is that what matters is we are alive!

Mother Earth, her children behold,
all clad in merry rainbows:
flowers and birds, berries and fish,
butterflies & all else that lives!

And we all are her children too,
blessed by our Grandfather Sun,
in Grandmother Water see spectrums dance,
such wonders the eye to entrance!

So, people, we, in beauty, made,
come join in this, our rainbow dance,
clothed in bright hues, beneath the sky’s blue
in clothes dyed with the gifts of the rainbow!

Whatever befalls us in our lives,
be it sorrowful  or glad,
we all are walking miracles
of Creation, so to be joyful!

And, after rain, breaks through the sun
and fills the air with rainbows,
so, old or young, let this song be sung
as of children who dance in the rainbow!
  (A cabaret piece popular with children)
          Taking Stock
How can one measure anymore
how much one’s life is a success?
How does one count the gain and loss?
I’ve my life’s urge as strong as before!
Keep faith and keep flowing along
and seek to sing a joyous song
of what is good whene’er it comes,
a peaceful karma, thus, better becomes!  
 A HYMN TO THE STRID IN FULL FLOOD
BROWN, TWISTING, WHIRLING WATER-SERPENT
OF THE POWER IRRESISTABLE,
GIVE ME PASSION LIKE A TURBULENT,
TORMENTED, WRITHING RIVER,
BRIMMING IN FULL SPATE FROM OUT
OF HARD-ROCK RIMMED WHIRLPOOLS,
RISING TO FILL RAVINE AS IN ANCIENT JUNGLE,
IN THEE I REVERENCE THE UNRELENTING POWER
OF CREATION, BOILING, GUSHING
IN VORTICES OF FIRE & WATER!
WHAT TONGUE CAN FIND EXPRESSION
FOR ALL THAT I CAN FEEL WITHIN ME?
WHAT TONGUE CAN FIND EXPRESSION
FOR THE POWER THAT FLOWS WITHIN THEE?
FASCINATING, HYPNOTISING, LIKE AN OCEAN 
                                                                     STORM,
TEARING WATER-KNIFE TO SHAPE THE EARTH
BETWEEN YOUR AMPHORAN POOLS OF CALM!*
YOUR WAVES OF ROARING WHITE WATER
ARE YOUR OWN INFINITE PSALM!
AS ONE FRAGILE SAIL ON YOUR LIFE-RIVER,
MAY TO US THERE COME NO HARM!
OUR CANOES THEY ARE FRAIL
AS ARE THE BOATS OF OUR SOULS,
YOU ARE OUR LIFE AND DEATH
AS SWIFT AND STRONG YOU ROLL
ON INTO INFINITY, OUT FROM ETERNITY,
AS I  SIT & GAZE IN WONDER
FROM BENEATH WILD FOREST TREE!
SO, LET GO TO THE PASSION,
LET GO TO THE DREAM,
IN LIVING & DYING
BE ONE WITH SERPENT STREAM,
A AI-AI-EE, A-AI- AI-AI-EE!
FROM THE SOURCE FLOWS AWARENESS
OF  CYCLES OF OUR LIVES!
NOTES on the above
“The Strid” consists of half a mile of linked, deep, ‘amphora-shaped’ whirlpool chambers on the River Wharfe above Bolton Abbey, in Yorkshire, England, where the many metres wide river turns in its side, like a knife, only 2 metres wide, through a fault in the rock, like the inside of a hydro-power turbine. A place that attracts those who like a challenge (to jump it) or who seek a fast entrance into the next world. The ‘still pools’ are abandoned whirlpool-chambers, fed by side-streams & flood-waters, with narrow necks & large bellies rather like an ancient ‘amphora’ or  urn. “A-ai-ai-ai-ee”  at the end of the chant is the ‘death cry for immortality’ of a dying priestess or shaman in ancient Erin (Ireland) and its letters spell the name of the ancient Egyptian “Boat of the Eternal Soul or Spirit” as in the ‘Serpent Cultures of pre-Christian Europe and the Middle-East, in which the rivers are the ‘sacred serpents’ of the Goddess, however named, as with Native American Tribes, serpents being cosmic power.
          THE ONE WORLD SONG
Composed for “One World Week” at the Elmhurst Multicultural Centre, Chapeltown, Leeds (1984)
EVERY RIVER IS A HOLY RIVER,
TO KEEP CLEAN FOR ITS GIVING LIFE:
EVERY PERSON IS A SACRED BEING
TO BE KEPT INVIOLATE FROM STRIFE:
EACH LAND FOR THE NEEDS OF ITS OWN PEOPLE,
ALL THAT WHICH DOES NOT SO SERVE IS WRONG
& HOWEVER DIVIDED OUR TOWER OF BABEL,
LET US, IN OUR TONGUES, SING THIS ONE SONG;-
                        CHORUS
UNA MARA, UNA MAYA, UNA TERRA,*
UNITAS IN ESPIRITU SANCTO!
ONE SEA MOTHER, ONE HUMANITY,
ONE EARTH MOTHER, ONE GREAT SPIRIT
IN WHICH TO FIND OUR UNITY,
SEEKING WHAT IS COMMON,  MAY WE IT FIND!

GOOD ACTIONS SPRING FROM INSIDE OURSELVES
AS DOES ALL MANNER OF EVIL:
DON’T JUST BLAME THOSE WITH POWER-LUST
OR THIS SYSTEM OR THAT CREED!
ALL CHILDREN ARE BORN IN INNOCENCE
TO LEARN FROM OTHERS GOOD OR HARM;
THE  CREATOR GAVE US ALL FREE WILL,
SO TO CHOOSE BETWEEN LIFE & DESTRUCTION!

DO NOR ARGUE OVER THE NAMES OF GOD,
FOR WHO CAN NAME THE NAMELESS?
WE CAN KNOW ONLY PART OF THE WAY,
OUR OWN PART IN THE COSMIC VASTNESS!
LET US BOW IN HUMILITY
THAT ONLY SO MUCH CAN WE EVER SEE
TILL WE MELT BACK INTO ETERNITY
WITH ALL OF OUR PRETENSIONS AS DUST!

THIS WORLD HAS BECOME A FRIGHTENING PLACE,
SINCE MYTHICAL ADAM FELL FROM GRACE,
BY ACTING IN WAYS THAT ARE SUCH A DISGRACE,
SINS SUCH AS THE ARROGANT DARE NOT FACE,
LIKE THOSE WHO MADE THE ATOMIC BOMB,
HIDING INSIDE THEIR WALLS OF ‘LOGIC’,
LIKE THOSE WHO USE RELIGION
TO JUSTIFY VIOLENCE ON THE ‘INFIDEL’!

THE IMPERIOUS PRIDE OF POWER STATE
SUCH AS JUSTIFIES MURDER WITH HUMAN LAWS,#
SET UP BY STRUCTURES SO OFTEN CORRUPT,
WITH TEMPTATION TO DOMINATE OTHERS;
HOW CAN SUCH STATES UNITED BE
IN ANY COMMON PURPOSE
WHEN THOSE INVOLVED SEEK SO SELFISHLY
TO GAIN BUT FOR THEMSELVES?
SO PEOPLES OF ALL COLOURS & CREEDS,
BEING TOGETHER BEGINS WITH OURSELVES,
OUR CHILDREN AT PLAY TOGETHER IN ONE
                                                                   STREET
& THEIR CARING, ANXIOUS MOTHERS & FATHERS;
FOR THEIR SAKE & OURS LET THIS WORLD BE
                                                                   HEALED
OF THE SICKNESS OF LIFE’S VIOLATION,
STARTING RIGHT HERE, AROUND SO MUCH TO 
                                                                   FEAR,
WHERE MINGLE FOLK OF MANY A NATION!
                           CHORUS
& IN THE BEGINNING WAS ONE HUMANITY,
ONE CRO-MAGNON FOLK WHO SPREAD ACROSS
                                                            OUR EARTH,
FROM MEXICO, FROM AFRICA, FROM INDIA TO
                                                              CHINA,
SPREAD NORTH & SOUTH FROM POLE TO POLE!
THE CHILDREN OF ADAM & EVE
WERE THUS SPLIT INTO MANY LANDS,
ONE IN GREAT SPIRIT AWARENESS,
THOUGH DIVERGING IN THEIR TONGUES.

THEN BEFELL A MIGHTY CATACLYSM
OF BLOOD & FIRE TO FRAGMENT OUR WORLD,
AFTER WHICH CAME CONFLICT & SCHISM,
INTO CHAOS OF WAR WE WERE HURLED;
&, THEN, VARIOUS PROPHETS CAME,
EACH TO MEET THE NEEDS OF THEIR LAND,
TO NAME BUT A FEW; -BUDDHA, JESUS, KRISHNA,
MOSES, MOHAMET, ZARATHUSDRA!

EVEN, AS IN ARIZONA, TO THE HOPAET,
ANCIENT ‘PEOPLE OF PEACE’ IN AMERICA,
CAME THE VOICES OF THEIR ‘KACHINAS’,
ANCESTOR SPIRITS FROM THE ONE-WORLD
                                                                    GRAVE
& OUT SPOKE TO US THIS SAME MESSAGE;
“THERE IS ONE GODHEAD, ONE HUMAN RACE”
WHILE ON CHINA’S CRAGS, LAO-TZU, THE SAGE
SAID “ALL TEN THOUSAND THINGS SWIM IN ONE 
                                                                           SEA”
                      LAST CHORUS
*Footnote: The words in these lines of the Chorus are derived from old Etruscan, Mayan Indian & Latin.

“Strangers are an attitude of mind towards others
arising from ‘alienation’ : they do not otherwise exist
except in our own defensiveness towards others.”
“Competitiveness between the sexes as shown in some extreme forms of Feminism or male-domination is simply an extension of competitiveness between all individuals in such as our current society.”

         A PRAYER TO MINERVA (1985)
THE TAWNY OWL LAY DEAD,
SHOT, IN THE BRAMBLES,
BY MEANWOOD BECK,
BODY STILL WARM
WHERE SHE THOUGHT SHE WAS SAFE,
SO POWERFUL, SO BEAUTIFUL,
SHOT BY SOME YOB
FROM THE LOCAL ESTATE
WITH AN EVIL GUN!
HER SPIRIT BEREFT OF HER BODY
STILL PULSING AND BEWILDERED
& ANGRY! & THEN, I, TOO, WAS TEMPTED
BY MY OWN VAINGLORY
TO SEEK TO TAKE FOR MYSELF HER MAGIC
AND SO TORE OFF HER WINGS
TO ADORN MY HEAD WITH FEATHERS!
BUT, THEN, HER PRESENCE PULSED
THE MENACE OF YOUR ANGER
FOR I HAD JOINED IN THE SACRILEGE
COMMITTED BY HER CALLOUS KILLER!
‘TWAS LIKE AN OMINOUS PRESENCE
INSIDE OUR NIGHT-TIME HOUSE
THAT CHILLED ONE TO THE BONE
SO THAT ONE DARE NOT COME
EVEN NEAR TO THOSE PRECIOUS PLUMES!
SO, THE WINGS THEN WE BURRIED
IN THE EARTH, WITH THIS PRAYER,
SO LAYING HER SPIRIT TO REST,
SO TO BE LEFT IN PEACE
TO FLY OFF ON ITS SPIRIT WINGS
TO THE GREAT BIRD OF ETERNITY;
“That we, vile humans, Oh Minerva, be forgiven
our so many sacrileges against natural life,
for our own power-crazy vainglory!
But let not those go unpunished
who seek not this forgiveness,
for your Spirit, roaming the night
in the world that was your life’s delight
where the shades of your lovely wings still ride
will fly like a fiend in the darkness
of their guilt, to hunt them down,
Oh, Guardian of the Gates between
this life and the realms of departed spirits,
for you have a Wisdom nobler
and more sensitive, owl-eye Minerva
than all our vain, human, pretensions!”
Footnotes: “Yob” =  a delinquent young person.
“Minerva” is the Etruscan-Roman Goddess of Wisdom and Guardian of the Gateways of the Underworld of the eternal, departed spirits.souls, in Etruscan called “tumna”, and is comparable to Pallas Athena of the Hellenic Gods & Goddesses of Mount Olympous, both of them having as symbol, the Owl. In ancient folklore, it is considered ‘unlucky’ to tear off the wing feathers of a dead owl, until its Spirit has departed from its body, as the angry spirit will haunt you & seek revenge even as to do so is a form of Ritual Black Magic.
     THE ZEN OF THE PAINTER (1985)
To assert oneself,
without being assertive,
like the star on the stage
must impress, yes, impressing
but merging in one’s landscape,
like a small bamboo
on a big mountain
under an infinite sky,
more like a bird that sings
on a green twig of bamboo,
withdrawn, so as all to give
while one’s eye embraces
all of the ten thousand things,
feeling the slightest
stirring of the breeze
in the mood on someone’s face,
quiet, ever listening,
like a pianist at one
with the notes that he or she plays
on the piano of colours
and shapes, alone in a room
so as to comprehend
the life-pulse of the Universe,
knowing, but only answering
to a question if asked,
briefly, in a haiku
enigmatic and muted
by wonder at the gates
of the mysterious
which is beyond all images
and which remains unspoken,
responsive to sensation,
like a stealthy cat
in a forest of bamboo
on a many-flowered mountain,
standing on the peak
without ever needing
to be, of Earth, a King
or Queen, just a simple person
who follows the instinctive way
that opens doors to others
once he or she has moved along
to somewhere unseen beyond!

The painter, like a lover,
does not need to speak
if he or she feels and sees,
does not need to explain
what can be sensed without words,
knows how to sail a river
like one born by the water!
(A poem that was enshrined within a painting that incorporated the images of the poem.
           DREAM POEM (1985)
I am like a boat gliding over the debris
in the bed of my underground river
as manifest in dreams, anxieties
remain afloat because the river
flows in full spate, if gently,
its banks brimming with fresh waters
of love from the clear springs of life
in the Holy Mountains of the Life-Spirit within me,
that was in me, at my birth
from the love of my mother and all mothers
and the Mother of Mothers, Holy Isis,
in which I am returned from Death, Osiris-Horus *
cleansed of the debris in the House of Death
and all that has gone before
for the debris of the river
is but skeletons, if shadows
at which I sometimes jump
but which the boat of my soul need not fear
for the river is deep
and my love fully flows,
shadows only remaining on 
this riverbed of restless dreams,
passover them all, for serene is the stream
of what is good, however frail one feels
and the Boat is that of Creation
in which all may be healed!

* Osiris-Horus. After the death of Osiris, in the ancient Egyptian religion, he is born and reincarnated as Horus who is also the son of Osiris, the Sun-God & the God River Goddess, manifest in the Nile, Isis. The River Nile takes its name from the ancient African Goddess of Water, Nanjela or Nyla, who is the female aspect of the Creative Demuirge that made all of sensual creation with Maweja, who is fire or lightening in aboriginal Zairian Native Tribal Religion, which also includes the teachings of reincarnation and the presence of a soul or spirit in every single manifestation of the life-force.
 
THE ESSENTIAL, THE EMANATION & THE
MANIFESTATION OR THE MANDALA OF LIFE
Whatever you may do,
the essential is to be,
within one’s own life whole
and to be contently so;
the Centre gives out Energy
to what lies beyond in Creativity;
the Centre is Love, the supreme giver,
an overflow from a central spring
or fountain of many streams
from the roots of the Tree of Life,
watering the many directions,
to return to the source, the Self, at one
with the Love at one’s Centre!
As for the rest, it comes and goes,
like the cycles of day and night,
like the cycles of Nature’s seasons,
like the logical patterns of Reason,
ever changing on the periphery
which is social and other involvements!
And when the Centre is whole
but what lies beyond it, not so,
then, at the Centre,
we are within the bud of the Lotus,
waiting to open up its flower
when the Sun shines it to warm,
when the frost of winter cannot it harm,
when one is with the appropriate people
who can trust to respect its flower,
The Emanation, the Inspiration
that appears but briefly
like an angelic messenger
from a God who is always there
deep down within us!
We are our own Gods & Goddesses,
Bodhisattvas seeking Buddhahood
at the feet of Inspiration,
to Wisdom, seeking completion;
we are our own continuity,
we go outward to return inward,
serenely and confidently!

            THE SPARK (1987)
In the beginning was the spark of life
alone in the darkness of Eternity,
a seed all complete within itself
to grow into fullness in Visions,
with love within another such seed of life
and all was still like a pinetree against
a dark and dusky sky!
But, then, our lives became cluttered
with so many, too many, preoccupations
which may have fed but which, also, dulled
imagination’s Spirit Power
in which one opens up like a flower
of simple beauty!
Oh, to return to this simplicity
stood still, like a pinetree against the sky,
in such peace as in which Creativity can grow!
Keep the flower of Love simple
and it will always blossom,
with its joy and loveliness
like a lily by the pinetree
of one’s reaching up into the stars
to feel the pulse of the Universe!
Written while staying at a friend’s croft above Loch Ness in the Highlands of Scotland, on holiday.   
BACK TO THE GODHEAD
AN INITIATION SONG (1988)
Come, let’s first learn the mysteries of Earth Magic,
of her Healing Arts of Service to all living kind,
opening to the full our bodies’ five senses,
of sound, sight, sense and touch and voice;
thus, let us learn to be of service to others,
our fellow beings, humans, other creatures of Earth,
with those many wonders of floral, herbal Creation
and their powers for the healing of bodies and Earth!

Let us enter this first pylon of the Temple,
through these doors of our being on the Earth,
so to imbibe the true ethic of all science,
to be that which serve’s Earth’s harmony and health;
our beings born of matter, powered by Spirit,
the houses and temples of our souls,
reach out to embrace the rest of Earth’s Creation
whose creation song in all life-forms unfolds!

Thus, we begin, even as in the beginning,
when Adam opened its eyes in Eden’s Garden, 
anxious to learn about all of Nature’s wonders
that, on the Tree of Life into fruits flowered;
and, thus, began the first good Shaman medicine,
whereby all wise ones know how life to serve,
how to care for the rainforest or woodland garden,
where all is at hand our every need to serve!

Come! Let’s then learn the mysteries of mind-magic,
of the powers of the Intellect’s Sun-Eye,
of the powers of our constructive imaginations,
of  thought-power that commands & guides our lives,
penetrating darker doors of understanding,
through the words or runes in books or on cave walls,
fed by data from our outer being’s senses
and the in-sights from our intuitive souls!

Sharpen these tools of seeing & expression,
search the wisdom of past ages of humankind
as left in record by those who went before us,
so to be for those who followed them, a guide,
runes on bones, clay or metal in ancient shrines,
carved upon stones or inscribed upon scrolls;
thus, our knowledge and Wisdom is not forgotten
and, with each generation, greater grows!

Thus, we learn how to be guides to our peoples,
old mistakes made, never to be made again,
knowledge-power and thought-power to enable
us to live on Earth in respect for the Creator’s Laws,
so that, in all our many fateful decisions,
our acts of will should be in harmony]
with the needs of the whole of Sacred Creation,
so that, of our Earth, good citizens we can be!
Thus, complete the truth-quest of our outer-being,
we can, then, come upon our own inner door,
into our Souls, our temple’s inner sanctum,
our seventh sense to be unveiled as ne’er before;
the ka, the soul embodied in our physical being 
is Eternal: disembodied is our Ta;
here, we glimpse our hidden intuitions,
our ancestor dreams of our lives gone before!

Here, words, runs, glyphs can no longer to see, help us;
here, we see with our magic moon-eye within, 
leaving observation, contemplation, enter meditation,
into a solitary cave of spiritual being entering in.
This is, for us, the final preparation,
for our own spirit-powers vibrant self-realisation,
power that shines a light from inside a crystal,
whose veils are, from that light, the rainbows of 
                                                        that crystal!
This, the Chapel of Love’s Grail where is found the
                                                             Goblet
that glows with light as does the Sacred Sword
of the power of the Spirit for all-healing,
that never kills and is for our taking,
if we are pure in life and pure in motive,
guided by the Spirit Light henceforth to live
entrusted with good magic  from the Great Spirit 
that is in every cell that sings with life!

So, let us rise up on Rainbow-Wings of Angels,
so to return to Eden’s Garden of Love,
feel, feed off the energy of the Creator Spirit,
Heaven-on-Earth, open our eyes to all powers above;
for we are all born out of one Cosmic Godhead,
which gave us Eyes 7, its wonders so to see;
we are all born out of one Great Earth Mother,
at one with all her other children, here, to be!
Footnotes on the above
“pylon”, in the ancient Egyptian Book of the Dead, a ‘pylon’ is a door of passage or initiation between one dimension of being and another, both embodied and astral, through which souls pass to be judged, cleansed and prepared for a further incarnation.
“Adam” Qabalistically, means not a ‘male’ but humankind as a whole, “Man” in a non-gender sense.
“Sun-Eye”  & “Moon-Eye”, hieroglyphic symbols for intellect and intuition.
“Ka” & “Ta” – ancient Egyptian for the ‘soul’, the 6th sense extra to the Ist 5 senses of sensual being – or Bae which, together with our 7th sense or the Eye/ consciousness of our Spirit gives us “7 Eyes”.
The “Sacred Sword” is represented by the ‘magic sword’ “Escalibur” in British Arthurian Grail legends, but is to be found, also, in many other ancient cultures.

CONTEMPLATION & MEDITATION,
A NEED FOR BALANCE (1989)
“Meditation without contemplation is as incomplete as a chrysalis is without a butterfly.”
Contemplation, extroverted eye,
submerges self
in the rest of Creation,
makes one of all aware,
so to transcend
and, looking down,
see into the depths
of one’s true self
and one’s true size
in the Universe;
one can only look down
into such a deep well
from the sky above it,
like a bird upon a tree of life
above its so dark,
crust-piercing shaft.
Meditation, introverted eye,
sinks one into one’s shell,
as into a hermit’s cell,
into the bottom of one’s well,
yes, down to the very spring
of life that feeds us within,
so, also, one may know oneself:
but, from the bottom of the well
one sees nothing but its walls,
so can no longer be aware
of Creation, the world beyond us.
Thus, too much meditation
can be self-destructive;
it makes one terribly alone,
unable to reach out
from one’s inner quietness
to others, other things around us.
Yes, we are apart indeed,
but still part of the whole,
once we have the inward eye,
how can, then, we ever lose it?
We must again go outward
for our lives to be whole,
for us not to become obsessed
with self-analysis.
Once tapped, the springs
of intuition will outflow,
freely upwards, strong,
like a fountain
into our understanding,
no more need inward retreat to know,
our roots, our psychic pulse,
our Third Eye opened,
all that is left is with life to flow,
compassionately!

          A WOODMAN’S CODE (1990)
Great Spirit,
Guardian of the Trees,
We thank you for the gift of timber!
May we not abuse the sacred life of the trees!
Let us only take one trunk
Where, on one root, there springs two,
So that we may not kill the tree we take from!
May we only take one branch,
If that is all we need
And never cut the entire tree
For the sake of one branch!
May we take our shelter from the forest
Without destroying the shelter of that forest!

So, to build me a lodge
To the Goddess, of sacred wood,
Of ash and hawthorn, oak or beech,
Therein to dwell, in inner thought
On the sacred life that has so much to teach
Us in the voices of the forest’s trees;
So to make me a magic stick,
Inscribed with ancient runes
Of tree-talk power
Where the Spirit stirs
In invoking the healing magic
That made our life,
The life of the tree,
The life of you & me,
For they are, from one root, one!
                   (2)
Great Spirit, giver of the trees,
Singer in the breeze,
Whose presence my soul frees,
Uplifts me in the forest & fills my eyes
With green-golden-blue vibrant peace,
Great Spirit, thank you for all the trees,
The columns of our sanctuaries,
To where, for our Visions
Each one of us must flee,
Must flee to find reality,
The reality of Creation’s beauty,
Whose totems are the trees!
Living trees give us shelter,
Without us doing you harm,
Fallen trees for our fire,
Withies & rods to make our home!
Through life’s forest you guide us
Along mankind’s ancient trails,
Pilgrims from dawn till sunset,
By starlight when sunlight pales!
Everywhere I  feel your presence,
In all that lives and grows,
On the hill above the valley
Where eternal waters, shapers flow.
Teach us how to be the carers
Of this temple, with our love,
As we reach up from our roots
Up into our branches
So to feed from the clear light above! 

RAINBOW MORNINGS,
THE RAINBOW GODDESS SOWS 
THE SEEDS OF EACH NEW DAY (1989)
At the Mother Nature Retreat, near Tenby, Wales.
Dawn Sun through the pinetrees
pierces the droplets of dew
of the moisture of the Summer earth
and out of each of them floods a rainbow
of green and shimmering blue,
and the hues of all the flowers,
reds, purples, oranges & white,
even as the moon still hangs in the heavens,
a faint pearl hung in the light
and through the tremulous rainbow
silhouettes of birds wing in their first, dawn flight;
this is the exquisite moment of birth,
of the birth of new horizons,
of new horizons for the mind,
of renewed expectations when all is soft and kind,
to go out into the circle of Creation
where all rejoices to be alive!
It is the skylark over the cornfield,
by the wood where one was a child,
before the world we lived in was tamed,
the moment of awakening of the wild;
gold & green kisses the green body
of the Goddess, in night’s darkness, asleep,
even as in the bud-awakening beginning,
Guardians of Eden stir to vigil keep;
the Spirit that was in sleep’s cave dreaming
takes wings with the birds that fly,
to rise above & survey the Earth,
sky, a blank-canvass for an artist’s eye,
full of shapes of living flora & grasses
that no brush or pen could ever capture,
a music no instrument could ever evoke,
Kyrie Aurora, us so to enrapture;
To gaze on and contemplate Creation,
not it with our digging tools to reshape,
for all is already perfect, as in that moment beheld,
in the Cup of our Consciousness to be in wonder held!

This rainbow of the pure morning
will defuse and scatter in the ground
and leave, there, a myriad jewels
of hues & forms, by day, to be found,
as sun rises to melt in the welkin *
when we start scurrying around,
with the insects for our daily survival,
with the animals out seeking their food,
with our winged friends venturing from their nests
after “God” beheld and declared “It is good”.

Note* Welkin – poetic, archaic English for ‘sky’.
We are but one of these myriad creatures,
in Mother Nature’s order to take our place,
singing because life is so bounteous,
both bird on bough and poet each seek their own space!

We are all parts of this awakening rainbow,
Part of the spectrum we ourselves behold,
Our arms, they reach out like the leaves of the trees,
Our tiny hands our precious little hold!
Every part of this rainbow is beauty,
be it as wide as our whole Earth.

So, one seeks one’s en-lighten-ment’s hours;
So, soul, mind, body change from cold to warmth
and the Rainbow shines on us, like a blessing,
as of all other creatures that it brings
out from the safety of our holes & nests,
calling on all birds & poets dawn to sing!

By day, I  tend my garden,
rearranging what there grows:
but the seed that there comes to blossom
is what the rainbow of our Mother there sows!

Am I so preoccupied with it so arranging
that I, no longer, the wonder of whence it comes know?

THE RAINBOW BUTTERFLY
(At the Glastonbury Festival, 1989)
The wonder of the miracle of life
in other flora and fauna
reminds us of the wonder
of the miracle of our own life;
those who do not have chance to wonder
at life’s miracle in our fellow creatures, plants,
are, sometimes or often, blind, it seems,
to the miracle of their own precious lives,
being so trapped and blinkered
within that purely human world!

Do they, then, never see themselves
in the mirror of Creation
and take for granted their own miracle,
losing their childhood sense of wonder?

Enlightenment is as simple as
an insect on a briar rose in the sun,
as simple as a butterfly,
its rainbow wings aflutter,
an image of the Rainbow of all Life,
in the vast spectra of the Earth & Universe
and we are part of this Rainbow-
Butterfly  of the Cosmos,
Like ‘butterfly-specks’ on its wings!

           An Image of Heaven (1991)
        Overlooking Ashbourne, Derbyshire
From the hawthorn-blossom framed hillbrow meadow
when the light is clear, there is a picture to be seen,
like an Image of Heaven, veiled by morning mist
with silhouettes like a photo-negative
awaiting to be developed, come to life
as a full, vibrant colour picture, as it bathes
in dew from a sky like a waking dream of dawn,
its greenery fed by the dissolving veil
that leaves the earth covered in sparkling jewels
of  light on every water droplet on the many grasses,
an image blossoming with the heat of the Sun,
an opening flower till it comes into its glory
in the Summer ecstasy of noon before each sunset.
Thus, our momentum has its precious moments
like a view from a peak whose height we daily climb
until we reach its zenith at our awaking
before we climb back down, yet, there, still remaining
for our eyes have held the image we have glimpsed.
The Vale below emerges from the veil
in all its details so exquisite
till it is perfect for the Artist’s palette
before its colours fade into sunset pastelle
ready for the veil again, with night, to fall,
an Image of Heaven in the Camera of the Mind
to teach us how to create beauty,
to enrapture fellow humankind! 
        The Vision Seeker
The Vision Seeker ever shall remain
a solitary being in the Wilderness,
his or urge to move forward where none
others have yet dared tread, into the future;
he or she comes back to share, then, away goes
back to the hidden places where the Spirits speak,
within the always ‘isolated’ Soul,
Isole, Isole, Holy Isle in a dreaming sea,
The source is hidden of the stream we see
& what words can, in their compass, hold the whole?
If you seek the seeker, go out into the forest wild,
if you have found his, her paths, then, you find yours,
then, you too can know the Wisdom at the Grail-*
Chapel that he, she knows as a place of rest,
for you, too, must go on a seeker’s journey
to appreciate a seekers fruits
and he or she is a signpost on your way
that you must tread alone within yourself.
The people come and go, the prophet stands,
like Spirit Guides waiting in every land,
eternal in our passing and our changes,
appearing, disappearing as we range
across the inward landscapes of our potentials,
ever ready to advise, if we the prophet need,
then, leaving us to the task to ourselves fulfill,
for each must sow what he, she gives us as seed,
it is for us to become even as he, she exampled;
all words of Wisdom are but of sacred living, a sample,
a taste of a wondrous spiritual meal
for which no one need toil or pay or steal,
whose harvest lies in pathways in the garden
that is the realm of our Mother Nature
and of our Sky-Father in Eden.
There he, she is not alone, for, there, Spirits dwell,
to bless each quester with powers to commune & heal,
magical beings to keep each of us company
even though, sometimes, we do not them see;
the seeker drinks of fountains from the stones;
these are the waters he brings to quench our thirst,
then, must go back into the solitary, veiled Self
to refill the waters of inspiration from these wells,
these wells which are within us all
with whom he or she shares,
the Water Carrier of Pisces
the Aquarian promises bears
and when all the paths to that ancient fountain know,
then, the Age of Pisces through Aquarian Gates can go
and take with it humanity at large,
Adam, at last, its spiritual being come of age,
going beyond the prelude, this time, of Prophets, Seers
as children grow beyond the parents who guided them,
themselves complete, in their own beings, to become!
*The Grail Chapel as in the Arthurian legends.
             A Sabbath Meditation
Lord, bless whatever work we do
for every day be Holy;
Creation’s Seven days, they all are yours
in us, for our actions are your hands
and everything can have beauty,
when done with caring and with love,
be that task for us great or humble,
all energy from your power, within, below, above.
Our lives are sacred vessels
to be filled with joy in whatsoever we make
so that we give a hundred fold
for whatever we need to take;
the resources of our planet
are the means of these blessed works,
your gifts to us from Creation,
may we not these, our tasks, then shirk,
with half-heartedness, that curse on Man
in society made cynical by greed,
but have time for consecration,
in Sabbath tranquility,
time for meditation, contemplation
as well as action’s fire
for but to behold is to worship,
to appreciate as well as desire.
The ancient trees in this churchyard
are their own many-columned shrine,
in such places rest a moment,
before doing our jobs, mundane, divine
and every task that pleasure gives
to you or others so is blessed,
even as our actions born of greed
leave our Planet’s temple cursed!
Great, Holy Spirit, guide us in our deeds
so that they may be for good,
God-giving indeed!
What is a Healing Centre?
Is it a house or sacred grove?
I sense it is a person
Wherever on Earth they move,
A place but a convenience
For knowing how to locate
The healer on his or her journeys,
Like a Celtic Cross where we can wait
And know he or she will be there,
At the customary hour,
Even as the tree is rooted so,
We know how to find its fruit and flower.
The hundreds of Celtic Crosses of Cornwall, often to be found in sparsely populated places as well as in the villages that have grown around them and, bearing the names of their Saints, must have been markers in the landscape helping those in need to find these sages. 
DREAM & SURVIVAL,
SPIRIT & EARTH,
FATHER & MOTHER,
MIND-BODY REBIRTH,
AT ONE & YET SEPARATE,
DRAWN BY THE UMBILICAL CHORD
BACK TO PLACES BELOVED,
TO FORESTS OF ONE’S YOUTH,
VISION & EARTH-BOUNDNESS,
KETHER & MALKUTH JOIN
THE TREE OF LIFE TOGETHER
IN AN UPWARDS-DOWNWARDS VIBRATION
(but are, sometimes, in conflict,
the need to dream the need to work)
HOW TO LIVE A LIFE IN HARMONY,
BOTH URGES THUS FULFILLED?
SPIRIT ENERGIZES EARTH,
EARTH ENERGIZES SPIRIT,
THE TWIN POLES OF A DYNAMO
TO GENERATE OUR POWER ELECTRIC;
CURRENT FLOWS IN INSPIRATION
UPWARDS FROM OUR EARTH CENTRE,
CURRENT FLOWS DOWNWARDS FROM THE SPIRIT#
TO GUIDE US IN OUR WAYS OF LIFE,
ALTERNATING CURRENT,
IN THE SERPENT’S COIL COMPLETE,
THUS, WE KEEP IN BALANCE
IN BODY & SPIRIT BOTH REPLETE.
IS THIS THE RETURN TO THE CENTRE
OF THE LIFE SPIRAL THAT ONCE REACHED OUT
IN CURIOSITY TO THE UNIVERSE,
PROPELLED BY THE POWER OF ONE’S YOUTH
LIKE A ROCKET INTO ORBIT
REACHING OUT INTO ENDLESS GALAXIES,
COME BACK TO FIND ITS CORE,
TO REBEGIN, AS BEFORE
IN A NEW CYCLE OR A NEW LIFE?
Footnote on the Above; - on the Central Pillar of Power of the Qabalistic Tree of Life, Kether or Qephra represents our Crown-chakra or ‘peak’ of the “Eternal Spirit”  within us whilst Malkuth stands for our physical, material being and life in the Earth.     
Woman with a Crucifix
Her crucifix
Hung down over her breasts,
Dual symbols of love and care,
Of Earth-Mother and Christ on high,
Compassion and beauty
And every woman is Madonna,
The love divine in human love,
Nourishment of body and Spirit.

The Qabalistic Name, “Christos”, A-Q-R-Ae-Sh-T-W-S, means “The  Godhead in our emanated Eternal Spirits & the Cosmic Dance of All Life as Cosmic Awareness, in the flow of Divine Energy and the Elements impregnates the sensually fertile, female egg of the The Earthly Creation.
“The Prophet comes and leaves as a bequest
his/her Visions for others to act & move upon”  (1991)
The flower we have sown has blown is seeds
upon the wind of Spirit in World-Mind;
Is it for us to know where Visions’ seeds are strewn?
This flower of Consciousness has its full cycle known,
for, with it, we have grown as those who shared
its healing, seeing Power to blossom now elsewhere?
We are but one Garden of Paradise to be regained
and there are many others that can blossom as fair;
the fruit of a dying tree now in new trees shoots,
even as Adam* has children in its generations.
Where we have been and pathways made, will go
others who find a path as ours we found;
rivers of inspiration visible flow,
then, again, flow on, invisible, underground
within our spirits, deep within us them we know.
We are the people of this moment, part of regeneration
and we of ourselves have given and taking our fruits
of the Tree of Knowledge, being by them fed,
have others on their own quests for Wisdom led.
No poet on Earth is immortal: Shelley, Blake
and others, more ancient, left on Albion their mark
from which we who were to follow inspiration took,
then, with our own inward Spirit Alchemy
transmuted it into our own Cosmic dream,
a change of actors in the same Cosmic drama
that has its impact on the Spiral of Adam’s karma,
so that, in New Golden Age, we all, in the end, can so be!
We are each but one of the many Eyes
of Consciousness of the One Great Spirit Mind;
our egos do not matter, together we strive
so that all life can be one, ourselves but a part
and the Holy Grail is for us to taste, but not to own
for it belongs to Spirit, we reap where we have sown;
what we have given will now others enrich,
even as others have enriched us in our search
as we pass on the Love, the Healing and the Message.
It is for you to act upon it and thus, passing it on,
with your own giving, those beyond to “turn on”
till we can together enter, of Spirit, the New Age!
*Adam = “humanity” as in Qabalistic Hebrew.

               Skylark
Our childhood was a skylark
above a meadow of wild flowers,
the thrill of happiness’s song
when Summer days are oh so long:
now we listen to the skylark
over our meadow of wild flowers,
with Creation, like a child of Spring,
our hearts, at one, again, take wing,
in timelessness, transcending seasons,
even while that time brings all seeds
into flower, gives us, for joy, our reasons,
rising, like skylarks, above our earthbound nests!
    (At our land at St Veep 1993)
Where?
What?
Why?
We move,
We breath,
We live
We give,
We take
A little to survive
In due season,
Because we are –
Is that a reason?

We are
Till we
Can live no more,
Left behind what has gone before,
As winter falls over the fields
And we go to sleep and to winter yield
Because that is how it is-
And what to accomplish in all this
From day to day
On our way?
To seek to perfect
A purer, more ethical path,
To become nearer to our Creator?
Oh, Spirit guide us when we doubt,
When our frustrations loudly shout
Out from the prisons
Of our limitations!

Most creatures simply live,
That we could be so contented,
To glory in the beauty
Of each dawn, noon and sunset,
To heal the wounds of body, soul and mind
And, those wounds healed, to know how kind
Is our Mother, The Earth,
Abandoned, all illusions
Of failure and success,
Of personal achievement
That to most allows no rest,
Alone
With questions
Without answers
Because we have intelligence
As well as more harmonious
Intuitive awareness
Which, without words
The answers
Shows us.  (1991)
On a Pilgrim’s Way Through Luxulyan Valley, Cornwall (1991)Walking through birdsongful forest,
to our village, by its Holy Well,
we are pilgrims in Time as well as Space,
tracing the spiritual travelings
of our, still evolving, human race
where everything around us,
from ancient elemental gods to Angels,
all manifestations of the Creator Spirit
sing out in ancient chants or more modern evangels,
where the living waters are our altars,
in Spirit, as in Earth
and the buds on trees around us,
an eternal promises of rebirth
and every poem inspired
flows, a devotional hymn
to wonders around and within us,
sensed by our Soul/Spirit eyes within.
If poets can be saints, I am one
in these moments of tranquility,
when all is still around me
so that I beyond myself can see,
as every Saint must be a poet,
whether in prayer or verse?
When a poet becomes a pilgrim,
God’s eternity to reverence,
be it marked by a Cross or a Sacred Tree,
the moment of worship is when we can just be,
unhurried, at one, with the sacred life around us.
Thus, we are pilgrims both in Time and Space,
of Humanity’s search for a Higher Grace.

Is Poetry Ever Dead? (1993)
Is poetry ever dead, as dead
as the  paper from which it is read,
as the poet wrote it, long ago,
whom we have framed in past history?

The poem is most alive for the poet
in its inspiration’s moment;
the poem is most alive for those who hear,
when, for them, it becomes the inspirer;
the poem is never dead, for it within
breathes the poet’s spirit, though his body be gone.

Nor can the Barddic tradition die,
only the bard’s voice and name changes,
Homer and Yeats are alive as I,
in this time is nothing, for poetry resides
in the Spirit Power Pillar of the Tree Of Life
that reaches up to the crown, Our Eternal Spirit,
we are the channels for its messages, not,
in the end, our name, but the poem itself that matters!
    THE GLOBAL VILLAGE (1992)
“And Jesus Christ brought us a Vision
of our World as One Living Spirit, One”
Our village is a street
in our one Global Village,
which spreads out beyond us,
like ripples in an ocean,
like circles inside circles,
to wherever Mind and Spirit reaches
to embrace all as brothers & sisters,
to reverence all that lives,
to all that needs and lives, blesses, forgives,
every soul from God we call our neighbours,
it is wider than any eye sees,
obstructed by ignorance’s walls,
if we are bounded inside one street
of an infinite Holy City!
Let all this Earth be Zyon*!
Let us see it as God’s Citadel!
The strands of fellow-feeling,
empathy and sympathy,
empowered by compassion
us from parochial vision free,
just as the Television
enables us everywhere physical to see!
Our address it might be England,
or Africa or Japan,
a mere physical convenience
to pinpoint where our fellow-beings dwell,
so as more easily to find them,
Spirit Power such limits transcends;
Chernobyl was in everybody’s back yard,
its radiation poisoned far and wide!
This is the Key to our conscience,
to our sense of responsibility,
without which all freedom breeds chaos,
spreading suffering to infinity;
Energy moves on, indestructible,
send out the Golden Ray of Love
and it will touch all who need it,
guided by the Cosmic Intelligence 
which is both here and above!
This ray penetrates all barriers
for it is far more than physical light
and reveals to each our Global Village
even as a “New Age Dawn” must banish
every former ‘dark age’s’ night!
ON One 
Ripple of Light, the sacred circle
which is both all and nothing,
in which ONE, the number One, I, Eye
stands like a Tower, to perceive
its circle’s all revealing, out-rippling infinity!
*Zyon = Qabalistic Hebrew for “awareness & perception in 
temporal, physical Creation fulfills all its potentials”
          SUMMER SOLSTICE SOUND POEM (1993)
ZENITH
ZEN OF EARTH,
SHEN OF SUN * SHEEN-FLOW-FIRE,*
AZURE OF GREEN
RAINBOWS OF FLOWERS,
VIBRANT COSMIC POWERS
IN BIRD-SONG, LONG ARCH OF HOURS
FROM RAPTUROUS DAWN TO LINGERING DUSK,
KEY STONE OF EACH YEAR’S CREATION-ARK,
ABOVE SOUL-BOAT OF OUR LIFE’S STREAM,
SO DEEPLY FLOWING, AS THE SKY IS HIGH,
OUR SUN-GOLDEN, MOON-SILVER TEMPLE-ARK!
IN THE HEIRARCHY OF OUR DAYS,
YOU ARE THE HIGHEST PRIESTESS-PRIEST,
AND UP TO YOU THE STEPS ASCEND
AS UP THE SEASONS’ ZIGGURAT,
NADIR TO ZENITH,
ZEN-SUN INSPIRATION
TO PEAK OF HARVEST FROM SEED’S BIRTH,
IN SPIRIT, SOUL, BODY, MIND, EARTH
FOR, EVEN AS THE DAYS GREW LONGER,
MINUTE BY MINUTE & HOUR BY HOUR
TO YOU WE CLIMBED UPWARD, STEP BY STEP,
AS SLOWLY UP A MOUNTAIN SIDE
IN FAITH & PATIENCE TILL WE STAND,
AT LAST, AT REST, IN STILLNESS,
TO SEE OUR WHOLE EARTH ALL AROUND,
LIKE NOAH ON MOUNT ARARAT
OR GOD ON THE SEVENTH DAY,
ENTERING THE SEVENTH RAY,
THE YEAR’S CROWN OR QEPHRA,
WITHIN US, THE HIGHEST CHAKRA,
THE COSMIC BLOSSOM
ON THE VIBRANT STEM
OF CREATION’S SHEN *,
ZEN MANIFEST
IN HARVEST
& THIS HYMN!
*Footnotes; “Shen” = Chinese for flow of cosmic energies from the Sun to Earth (c.f. English ‘sun-shine) while “Zen”, Qabalistically interpreted, means “awareness/perception fulfill their potentials”. “Sheen” is  Qabalistic Chaldean-Hebrew for ‘the flow of Spirit Power from the Godhead’, as the energy from the Sun & can, also, be said to be the ‘descent of the fire of the Holy Spirit upon the disciples of Jesus on the 40th day’.
‘Ziggurat’, the stepped pyramidal “Sun temples” found in both ancient Ur of the Chaldeans in Mesopotamia and amongst the Mayan ruins of Yucatan in Central America, perhaps, with a common architectural link in the lost civilization of Atlantis (?). “The Seventh Ray”, a reference to the Arcane Teachings as of Alice Bailey, but, also, relevant to the “Seven Steps of Mystical Sufism” in which it represents our highest possible spiritual attainment while embodied in the flesh. The Ziggurat, in one sense, a sun-temple, also symbolizes, in 7 levels, our spiritual ascent to the Cosmic Godhead.
      
    Good Friday, 1993
Every time someone is killed
by the callousness of a fellow,
be this through negligence or war,
then, is Lord Jesus crucified;
every time an animal dies
at the hands of human barbarity,
then it is too nailed to that Cross
with all of our Saviour’s agony;
there is no valid sacrifice
of one life for another,
be it imposed or voluntary,
of any fellow creature or human brother
and there are a million crucifixions,
every day, all over our world,
wherever there is any such suffering,
our lives into darkness & anguish hurled,
till the light of love redeems us
& the wounds of cruelty are healed,
forgiven because we have repented
in embracing new, life-loving ways,
for the glory lies not in the suffering
but in the sufferers refusing to hate
those who set in motion their persecution,
love so strong to open up that blessed gate
through which to pass from blindness into light,
so enlightening those who might cause us our plight;
for the victim to suffer, here, demands of this drama
a soul twisted with evil, so cause us this trauma,
a soul that needs to heed the teachings of our Master;
as he lived, as he died, ‘tis those teachings that matter!
For those teachings he suffered, in his integrity,
Knowing that they would cause him to persecuted be!
Now a hunted fox-cub is torn apart on that Cross
& the Christ Spirit still weeps 
at the pain of each life’s loss,
because, for all that he suffered,
his teachings to proclaim,
he sees that we still do not them heed
as  ‘his Father’s’ Sacred Creation we profane!

“Where Soul & Spirit Inwardly Are Strong”
Where Soul & Spirit inwardly are strong,
though mortal days be brief, not to last long,
as short-lived in their treasured joys
as Summer’s most beautiful butterflies,
those joys of loving and being loved,
of friends, our urge to life & light will move
through and beyond death’s veil,
beyond our worn flesh frail,
into a newer being, freed from all present pain,
into further chances to blossom full again,
healed of all sickness of fear of death’s dark passage,
healed by the infinite Power of the risen Christ,
banished and vanished all anxiety, 
bathed in that universal, soft & all-embracing light,
as waking to bird-song dawns after sleep’s night;
where flesh cannot be healed, Spirit shall rise
to re-enter a rebuilt temple, a life renewed,
in all its wholeness, in that dawn, restored;
thus, this journey ended, yet another to begin,
though, now, we cannot know where we are going,
let us, in our hearts, glad, sing
that our Spirit lives forever, borne up on angelic wings,
so to make easier our passage along that stream
of life-&-death, as easy as flows, in sleep, our dreams,
while those who love and care over us their watch keep
like a Guardian Angel
or a Mother at her child’s cradle.
(written on the death of Valery, a friend’s daughter)
            Samadhi
Dragonflies
on still water 
in a wood
is harmony mindless,
a brief Summer bliss
of bring so much at one
with how the Creator made us
that one does not even
see one’s reflection in still waters,
besides the reversed images
of over-arching trees?
To be aware,
must we be apart,
yet unable to see ourselves,
except in our reflections,
which is why, perhaps, I write a poem
so as to be able to see myself
in each moment, as fleeting
as a dragonfly’s life winging?
Or, is there a higher ecstasy
of being able to be
and still be the Eternal Eye within
that is aware of all our being,
no, not with our physical eyes
of our wonderment in outward seeing,
not yet in those moon-like eyes
of the intuitions of our dreams
that tell us how others affect us,
but with an eye of timeless detachment
that can come in those moments serene
when we forget our time’s passing,
lulled to rest by the music of the singing stream
& become just like those dragonflies,
being just what we should be,
moving in an eternal present,
our nearest point to Eternity
and this poem ends at this point of flow
when we that Higher perception begin to know!
    (by the Luxulyan River, Summer 1993) 
REINCARNATING SOULS 
A VISIONARY DREAM   Easter 1993
I am in neither darkness not light, but in a dusk that seems infinite, in a valley with rectangles, marked out, side-by-side, like boxes, with dark-grey blue walls, like building plots for tiny sheds or shanties, and thus I am informed by my guide that these are open, cradle-like, coffin-like places allocated to the birth of new bodies & souls, that, amongst the poor of our world, with large families, for every two old souls there are who are seeking reincarnation there are ten babies born, due to the way that the population has grown, eight of which will need a new soul or spirit to be given one which is totally new, naïve, inexperienced & untaught that will first need to evolve into Wisdom & Knowledge before it can attain to the ways and Wisdom of the old souls, that this is the reason why our world, despite the Wisdom of the older souls will remain held back in its overall spiritual evolution of the human race as a whole, that quality sacrificed to quantity of people, too many have too little room to grow, as fully as the initial promise of birth might show, the allocated plots so small, in which they must come into being. 
In the same infinite dusk I wander away from the cradle-tombs, down a dark, golden-green valley, along a stream, by hedgerows, to return to the wide-open space of our field & coming near to them, by the Oak-like trees on the hill, in front, I am about to turn across the stream when I behold, leaping over the stream to our field, as in the Arch of a Rainbow, a Rainbow of Golden Light, a giant bull-bison, dark, rich brown, tall as a two-story house, with black hair and long moon-shaped horns, as if I beheld the Great Spirit, as of the Sioux Indians, itself, awed, but not afraid, as it landed in our lower field, then vanished. But, thus deflected from my original path, I follow the path I am now on to the wooded hill beyond into a lane alongside which are many tiny wooden houses, with tiny gardens, with their little families, all sat in front, in the evening sun, as the birds sing in the many-flowered bushes, all chattering with each other, gardens and houses as big as the rectangles laid out before for the birth of their bodies & souls, all squeezed in, side by side, along the path, happy in their innocence, naively unaware of the depths of my speechless concern & anxieties as an old soul amongst all these newly made ones.
I wonder, to myself can our human race ever become spiritually mature, as a whole, unless we first stabalise our population numbers, so that the newborn souls of now can grow on into this & other lives, till we all can be old, wise souls in young, joyful new bodies, nolonger needing, our gullibility gone, to learn from our dangerous mistakes?
I cannot speak to those along this avenue of what I know because I have lived, died and been reborn when most of them only seem to know one life, in their bliss & ignorance, still in their first Eden, when I envisage & envision a Second Eden, the Spirit Conscious Heaven!
Commentary
Is one of the meanings of this dream, towards the end, that having been deflected from turning across the valley to the tranquil solitude of our fields, the appearance of the Cosmic Great Spirit Bull-Bison, so ending up in the avenue of the new souls, I am being told it is my job, as having old soul Wisdom, to help these new souls on their growth out of their boxes into enlightenment, such as I have experienced?
Are they not all on their doorsteps, in front of their little houses, where I can greet them as I pass by?
              Shambhala – Shangrila  (1994)
What? Where is Shambhala? Is Shan-gri-la?
That San-Greal of the purest light of Spirit,
the Hidden Kingdom, the forbidden fruit
of the Cosmic, Shamanic Knowledge Tree?
Is it a place or places still on Earth?
Indeed it is where souls of men are pure
in their vibrations so to charge temple & hearth
with crystal-light clear harmony, in valley
as on Mountain Crowns of snow,
where pilgrims since timeless aeons, seeking, go
beyond their entrance tunnels subtaranean
which only to those of right mind will open.

Yet, is not it, also, an inner, hidden vale
within our own souls, beyond the veil
of our subconscious dreams, where Spirit’s voice
to leave behind our material world beckons,
to cross the searing deserts of our aloneness,
to swim the impetuous rivers of our emotions,
to climb up intellect’s highest crags,
till we come to inner doorways, face-to-face
and thus, leaving behind our material beings,
through solid doors in rock our Spirits pass
on astral wings into the Heavenly Plane
that yet is of the Earth, by the blind, unseen?

From Godhead flows the Cosmic Energy,
as awareness of the Cosmos in all its beauty,
opening up within us such potentials
in the surge of our life-forces as all heals,
in the Cosmic dance of Being & Becoming,
in each sensual Creation that must pass,
within ourselves as agents, life-renewing,
in the land where Spirit’s Power & Fire vibrates,
in our awareness, in Mother Waters that give birth
to all the containers, vessels for its incarnations,
in the sacredness of all the life on Earth,
So Shangreala in Shambhala, to our Vision appears!
Verse 3 represents the Qabalistic meaning of  ‘Shangreala-Shambhala
              LOVE IS (1994)
Love is everywhere we grow,
in Spirit, Soul, Mind and Body,
wherever clean, living waters flow
in Creation’s myriad-flowered mystery;
our love is part of one Cosmic Love,
as one tree is part of a forest,
as one flower is part of a floral grove,
a place to find our sacred joy and rest;
our love is everlasting,
even as love’s source is eternal,
of Cosmic Love, one of the many songs,
of our life, the seed and kernel;
whatever fears may arise within us,
if true to Spirit we each stay,
never will such love desert us,
that love is the light to guide our way;
it is our root, in natural season
and does not need, to be, a reason,
except that it is, it is our being,
our conjoined cells of the Universal Being
whose eyes are in our eyes,
whose breath is in our breathing,
whose healing powers from within us rise,
whose sensitivity is in our own vulnerable
                                                 feelings;
it makes all places where we love
a Sacred Centre and a shrine serene!
Life, without love, is form devoid of life-force:
but life, with love, is a most enchanted garden.
Our souls, like empty goblets of a Holy Grail,
have, for fear, no room, if with healing love
                                                       they fill.
We move, we act, we think, we sense, we speak:
but love is, beyond all of our human notes,
an even more wondrous music
that takes us through the Gates of Mystery
and sets us, from all our mortal limits, free,
beyond all fear, which is darkness,
in its Light, all, then, clearly, to see!

   OVERLOOKING THORPE CLOUD
        (At Ashbourne, Derbyshire)
These white Mountain peaks
remain immutable
and watch over
our changing seasons
as over the seasons
of the changing forests
throughout our generations,
from our being born
even to our passing
back to the Great Spirit.
              A PRAYER FOR D-DAY
             (Its 50th Anniversary in 1994)
Oh, Great and Holy Spirit,
Oh  Healing and Redeeming Power of Christ,
come, help us to release the suffering souls
of  those bound to old battlefields of pain,
violence and violation of the sacred Spirit of Life!
Oh, Christ, come walk amongst the unquiet dead,
with their memories of D-Day, as of hells of all wars,
those many tens of thousands of Americans, 
                                             British and Germans
who perished in those days,
with your sweet message of mutual forgiveness
for all the harm that men can do to each other,
help to prepare them for their ghost dance ,
for their astral liberation,
even as they sacrificed their peace
for the liberation of their fellow humans,
for we know all war is evil
and its residues poison our Planet:
yet, courage remains noble!
Cleanse nobility of all clouds of hate
and of the red residues of slaughter,
so that purer vibrations
can return to our Earth
and uplift all tortured souls
into the bliss of our salvation, remade whole,
that though there are many who can never forget,
all can yet be forgiven
and all the minds on Earth be freed from the Rule
                                                       of the Past
for the sake of the Future and for the living
and not yet born who are to follow after,
for humankind’s kharmic liberation
from the old warrior’s wheel of fate,
our curse from time immemorial,
for the total healing of body, psyche, soul
of our World everywhere, as a whole!
See! Blue and golden light where the sky burnt red,
once we help release the Spirit,
the so, too long, unquiet dead!
The Ghost Dance, a Native American shamanic funeral tradition whereby it is necessary, wherever there has been violent death, for the living tribe, led by its elders & medicine doctors, to go on a pilgrimage back to that place, so to dance smeared with ashes and, often naked, like ghosts, in masks to ensure that the souls of those who had so died, could finally be released to rejoin the ancestors in the Great Spirit realm. More than a century after the massacre, the Oglala Sioux thus returned to Wounded Knee having gained access to this, their traditional land, to complete this essential ghost dance, for their lost people. Till then there can be no peace in one’s heart.
        BEING – BECOMING
         (a meditation - 1994)
Being,
Becoming
Spirit is
as in Eternity,
Being is eternal,
in moving,
in flowing,
it energises,
transforms,
its shapes and forms,
becomes becoming
while remaining
its own pure self
and so the rhythm intertwines,
like twin-coiled DNA Energies Serpentine,
alternating A/C, D/C,
generating of life the infinite electricity,
magnetic Aurora Borealis,
with vibrance of ethereal light
that floods our beings with power, delight,
a current formed by these revolving poles
of Being and Becoming;
flowing, it heals, wounded matter transmuting
back into wholeness, all decay refuting,
even as heals the natural Light
of colour vibrations from the open sky,
entering our nerves and psyches through the eye,
hence us uplifting:
but, sometimes, it comes in through the Inner Eye
of initiation or that of our etheric Soul,
thus, psychic, telepathic, Spirit Healing makes 
                                                        us whole!
Being  becoming,
becoming  being,
being becoming,
the dance ever goes on
like our heart’s pulsing drum,
hence the rhythm
of the Cosmic Dance,
being becoming
being becoming
being into infinity
and yet both are twin aspects of the one,
both are the same,
except in name
that we give them!
In the Grammar of Creation
Being is God as a noun
while becoming is God as a verb,
a simple alternation
of thought and action
that throughout the Universe
in all things pulses and resounds!
        THE CHRIST BIRD
I am the bird of dawn,
I wake while others still sleep
to sing songs of Eutopia
and my dreamer’s vigil keep,
even while Winter breaks,
I sing my hope of coming Spring
& where the World seems to forsake
the sad, I this new promises bring.
I am the herald, all alone,
upon the food-berry tree
who calls to others in their nests
in this new morn chorus to join me.
My song goes out into the Universe
that envelopes this whole Earth,
to seek to reach beyond the Seas
with messages of Love and Peace.
The dawn bird over Bethlehem
for the Shepherds, on upland hills, sang,
flew,  led them to the stable
where Mary  to Baby Jesus sang.
It sang upon the desert thorn]
where the Magi traveled to the newborn
teacher and messenger of God’s Will,
their hearts with joy of Salvation to fill.
The Angels instructed that bird’s voice
which rose on imagination’s wings
to the highest branch of the Tree of Life
that grew from earth-roots, to end all our strife,
if we, in darkness yet, might cease
our strident thoughts, Oh, so to be still,
the Dove-in-the Rainbow of Noah’s hours
of despair, Vision’s  prophecies to fulfill.
All round me, round this garden bare
where former harvests have been taken in,
people are slumbering in their nests,
their houses, cottages, their well-earned rest
from toil, travail and anxiety
from which this song’s healing can set all free,
bringing with it, not just daylight
but a light from the Spirit on us to alight,
to warm our souls, as Sun warms the ground;
So may the song of the Christ Bird
in every land of Earth resound!
Footnote: In many cultures birds of various kinds have a long & ancient folklore & history as messengers, in one way or another, for the Spirit World & Divine Spirit. Crows have foreboded a death; The Eagle for Native Americans is the watchful, guiding eye of the Great Spirit; the departed souls of loved ones have taken the forms of  birds for one last visit to those whom they have left on Earth, besides the many symbolic birds found in ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs.
Small-headed, physically, some may be, but  yet they possess mysterious mechanisms for exact Global Navigation without apparent foreknowledge or maps of their routes!
         ON THE ASTRAL PLANES (1995)
Inspired by the journey, in December, 1967, of my disembodied Spirit to say goodbye to a friend, Caroline, who had recently committed suicide and who had called me over to ‘the other side’ where she awaited me in the Lower Astral Limbo, to unburden herself of her emotions so that her soul could be released to the Higher Astral Planes.
And, there, detached from all five Earthly senses,
and, beyond their reach, sucked into vortices
of primal energy, vibrant, without form,
for precious moments, did I know then
that sense of unspeakable serenity,
perhaps, born of freedom from anxiety,
from such anxiety as created, for us, by Time
and material survival, which melts, like rime
in heat of Sun in that timelessness,
where, fearing nothing, one is ego-less!
There, no need for speech where is telepathy,
where our souls can simply be,
vibrant together, as they float,
in Eternal Energy beyond dreams and thought.
Is this the appeal of suicide
for those who suffer, on the Other Side?
Perhaps a chance to re-incarnate
at some, more propitious, future date?
She cried out for release, but was still bound
near the Earth, by her pain, until she found
a fellow soul who her tears understood,
those tears that still in Limbo’s gateway flowed,
till that grief spent, at last, free, she could fly
and become one with the Spirit-in-the-Sky,
loathe to return to where illness dogged her mind
because her life, abused, had, to her, been so unkind!
Thence, came I back, renewed, as if reborn,
but felt like a child, from its natal womb, torn,
flung back out to cope with Survival & with Time
when Peace with  pulse of Death’s Spheres did rhyme,
at one with ‘death’s’ Eternity,
so oft at odds with the Life around me,
relieved, from sorrow, by its transcience
when perplexed by the sufferings of innocence!
I knew where I had been,
and, there, I felt no fear:
but, having Heaven’s Gate seen,
I became afraid, back here,
because, to go there, I know one must lose
the delight’s of body’s senses! How to chose
between that peace-that-passeth-understanding
and the brief, but sweet desires
of the here-&-now-on-Earth, wherein standing,
we cherish each moment that brings happiness?
We met on Earth so to say farewell beyond
Where eyes yet see, though heard is no voice’s sound,
Where infinite space replaces finite ground,
And one is the beginning and the end?
This Lower Astral Plane
is like a morning mist
that clears in the light from the Godhead,
to show the Higher, Rainbow Planes of Heaven.
Had I slept on, in Limbo,
then, on Earth, I would have died
my physical body abandoned, 
frozen like a stone statue
of a Third-Eye bejewelled Buddha,
even though its heart still murmured,
and ascended into Elysium
into the Light that we call The Christ,
but she, who’d passed on, needed a mourner,
here, on Earth, her life to cherish,
even as I was meant to remain,
to complete my journey’s on the Earth-plane,
to heal sick souls, here, left to perish!
Note: ‘abused’ is, here, meant literally. Mentally damaged by her own father’s unacknowledged sexual abuse of her when younger, Caroline, finally succeeded in escaping her recurrent depression, on the 6th attempt, aged 15 years.         
  A CLOSING PRAYER
Oh, Great & Cosmic Spirit,
may we all seek to radiate,
in our embodied lives on Earth
the radiance of the Rainbow Light
of our Higher Spheres, of our Innermost Beings,
that which we call the vibration
of the Universal Love & Compassion,
Sympatheia Thonholon, 
even as your emanation,
the Father-Mother Creation
and its vibrant hues of beauty
of Nature and Soul’s beatitude,
as on the dawn of the perfect day!
Thus, may, in our everyday lives, Thy Will be done
on this Earth-plane, even as in Spirit-Heaven,
even as our teacher, Jesus, the Christ,
so bade us to seek to do and be his healers, hands!
Footnote: “Sympatheia Thonholon” or “Universal Sympathy”. According to the Hellenic Philosopher, Plato, this is the Highest form of Love which transcends all lower levels of Love which are Eroteia (The Sensual), Agape (fraternal) and Charitas (love and goodwill in practice to all of our fellow beings = compassion). It embraces all of Creation in its vibration, even as, with the leaving behind of the physical boundaries and definitions, of Space and Time, there are no walls or shells around our sensitivity, so that we can feel, telepathically, with all the life forms and spirits of the Cosmic Creation, a sensitivity which becomes very painful once one is back in an imperfect material world where lack of sensitivity causes many to do or think things that cause pain and suffering to the vulnerable. Suffering is not the purpose of existence, but the consequence of the sacrilege of the Divine Purpose of Existence, to manifest the Love of the Creator, at all levels, as enabled by us being open  to each other through “Sympatheia Thonholon”. 
A PRAYER OF COLLECTIVE SELF-DEDICATION
                             (1995)
Oh, Great and Cosmic Spirit,
who is our innermost Consciousness and Conscience,
who speaks to us, in so many ways,
in Visions, ideas and moral and ethical guidance(1)
may we heed what your voice tells us (2)
so that we, together, may remake our World
for the common good of all that has life
which is your Sacred Law as our Creator,
we thank you for showing us
how to make our diverse Communities
as like a Communion of Saints and Angels,
how to go beyond our introverted, individual seeking
to link the hands of our souls & minds in common
                                                       purpose!
May we, this and each day, go forth
as disciples of your prophets and prophetesses,(3)
so to apply their teachings of our everyday lives,
so to bring all people and peoples together
so that our human world may become as One! (4)
                           Amen
Footnotes: (1) “moral & ethical”. This is like the terms ‘applied’ & ‘pure’ in mathematics & science. “Ethics” are pure, base principles, while “morals” derive from the Latin “mores” or ‘customs’ implying their social application. (2) “The Voice of God” needs not speak as heard words but can be manifest in any form receivable by our inner senses including as dream-images or psychic intuitions that are beyond our physical senses. (3) “prophetesses”- in the male-image dominated World of religious orthodoxy, these are few but significant (for example The Books of Ruth, Esther & Deborah in the Hebrew Old Testament), the modern Prophetess being Dr Anna Bonus Kingsford in the late nineteenth century, author of “The Perfect Way or the Finding of Christ” (1895). However, prophetesses/priestess oracles are more numerous than first meets the eye as women are not so egotistical about ‘having a place in history’ as men who are chosen as channels and simply serve wherever they are as long as their earthly incarnations permit. Of course, we all know about the Pythoness of Delphi and the Sibylline Oracle of Monte Alban near ancient Rome and we cannot know how many spirit-message receptive, pagan shamankas were burnt at the stake as ‘witches’ by the male hierarchy of so-called ‘Christian’ orthodoxy, apart from the famous Jeanne D’Arke of France. The post 1980’s New Age has given chance for women to take their rightful spiritual place as prophetesses, in fact, taking the lead, as the main channellers for messages from Spirit though some men, who have such a supposedly ‘feminine’ sensitivity can also act as such channels, so long as they do not confuse the constructions of their own intellects with the ‘purer poetry’ from intuition! 
(4) “The World as One” – yes, we know the Earth, as a Planet is one unit, but the term “World” means, literally, from its Saxon root, “Wer-Old” or ‘The Sphere of Men” which remains divided, hence, unnaturally out of step with the host Planet which supports, tolerates and endures it 
  A CLOSING PRAYER OF SELF-DEDICATION (1995)
Oh, Great and Holy Spirit,
Oh. Cosmic Intelligence and Power
that, in all our beings, comes into flower
as intellect and intuition, 
through our inner Soul & Spirit,
may we turn away from the distractions
of outward preoccupations,
so as to rediscover, within ourselves,
the Light and Fire you gave us,
may that light and power shine out,
from the veiled our values
and desires in the material world,
and, thence, flow into every aspect
of our daily lives, however mundane,
so that all of humanity, shall, 
moved by love, live lives of mutual service,
so that none may be without all
they need, in body, mind & Spirit!
May every aspect of our lives,
both individual and collective,
manifest, in economics & politics
as well as spiritual seeking,
the voice of Inner Conscience,
born of our Soul’s Spirit-awareness,
such that “Thy Will be done,
on Earth, as it is in Heaven!”   -Amen

       The Self & Communication as an Opening Flower
               A Meditation Poem (1996)
You go out from the still & solitary center of the Inner Self,
with Energy of Spirit, warmth of Soul & thoughts of the
                                                                                    Psyche,
drawn by the needs of others, to share with them, then,
                                                                             to return,
the letter posted, back into that still & semi-separate self,
as each day ends, a petal made of one’s creativity,
putting out another petal every time a link is born
between you & another, till a flower it has formed
of many rainbow colours, our World, a little more, 
                                                                       transformed,
across the wave-filled Cosmos, even though you might
                                                              be, always, alone,
but fertilized by the flower of another’s thought, as pollen
meeting nectar, flower to close back into sleep to curl
                                                                            again.
each of us can so blossom when to others we respond,
the pattern of our World like a meadow, each time we
                                                                    correspond,
sending out our vibrations, like a ripple on clear pond.
This flower, like the Lotus, bears seeds of enlightenment
and the Energy that you have lost, you know has been
                                                                well spent,
being together, with another, if but briefly, for a 
                                                                 moment.
Thus, every time we contact, we can spiritually grow,
the fruits of our potential, to feed each other, to show,
with every petal manifest, our Human Unity to know!
A TINY EYE TO SEE THE UNIVERSE (1996)
I am a tiny point of light upon our Earth,
but one of billions of tiny points,
each, in itself, a complete world,
even as our Planet Earth is a tiny point 
of light in the Universe, a Universe 
that our mind’s eyes can embrace,
though our bodies be tied to one minute spot in space;
traveling, one remains but a tiny point
of light that changes, in infinity, its place,
seeking, with Time, to overcome the limits,
imposed by Space, we move on so as to enlarge
the spheres of our real experience,
beyond imagination’s fantasies:
but, is there not a way whereby the Eye
of our awareness can expand and magnify
like a telescope to encompass wider worlds,
beyond our present senses,
without our moving, the whole to perceive,
with a magnification beyond our present belief,
so as to know the workings of Creation,
both within & without, no more need for imagination?
Is this through Astral Travel,
through our Spirit Body’s Third Eye
or is it through our intuitional
vibrations felt in the Psyche?
Or, is it yet, that Zen-like realization
that we do not, after all, need such magnification,
knowing that the Macrocosmos is the same
as the Microcosmos in essential form
and action, and that we can our whole world see
by seeing more clearly the point where we be?
To travel is a challenge, shakes our complacency loose,
it makes us ask the questions that we still can pose
without moving in Space, with our bodies,
more a destroyer of illusions, of images,
conjured up in place of actual sensual touch
to fill our need to know, though we know so much,
the tester of our wits, which adventures sharpened,
to see what we have, at home,
as to what we are, reawakened,
back to our own still centre to come!
Each quest adds zest to life where we have grown
too accustomed to routine with what is well-known,
so from our tiny point of light,
the rays of our seeing venture into surrounding night,
ever fascinated by that which to us is unknown,
the action of our energies, future potentials shown:
yet, we must ever venture where we have not yet been,
every moment beyond the here and now
pulls us onward, to be seen,
when we arrive, beyond the mists
of this, our current doubting,
because we must, as must move light,
our whole universe embracing!

                TOWARDS A UNIVERSALIST FAITH  (1996)
There is one ultimate Godhead, infinite and eternal,
which is ever beyond unknowing’s mysterious veil,
beyond all words & concepts while of all these,  the Source,
called, for our expression, The Great Spirit or Life-Force,
manifest in every particle of our vast & awesome Universe,
as the Energy in the Atom, from Micro-to-Macro Cosmos!
This is, to Muslims, Allah, as to the Hindu, Atman,
to Hopi Indian, Taiowa, a name for every tongue  of Man!
It is a Cosmic Consciousness,
both within &shaping matter, even as Awra-Mazdis,
 the Light, as taught by Zarathusdra 
Whence emanates our intelligent Spirit, Soul & Mind
Within the body of our flesh, as in all live beings emanated.
This is the focal Hub of the Wheel of All Life
that holds together the many spokes of our belief,
the many paths of Religions that appear to diverge,
but which, differently viewed, on this focus can converge,
in accordance with whether, in our limited human senses,
we emphasize the differences 
or what we feel in common, sense!
The landscape is the same; what we see must depend
on where it to view, we, in its vistas stand
upon the Peak of a Mountain, of the Highest Consciousness
or in the depths of each valley, 
within dogma’s ravines and gulleys,
albeit these were carved by the Divine’s impetuous streams,
as a place for Security, whence we rise on wings of dreams,
of dreams helped by meditation,
as Visions, in sleep, by night, clear,
we each need to climb up our own Moutain,
so to become our own Seer!
The Sacred Letter was always there,in every ancient culture,
The Qabalistic Aleph, Powerhouse of All Manifest Nature, first letter of the Alphabet of every people’s undestanding,
the God of Gods, however many our own named  divinities,
as we, in half-light, grope to comprehend
what is Alpha & Amega, the beginning & the end,
of all life’s continuous cycle, which, as it through us flows,
manifests in our heart-beat’s pulse, can teach us all to know
in that, the pulse of the Macro-Universe,
which instructs the rhythm of this humble verse,
which seeks to show what I can see:
but, best to look within your own self to see
the truths that are, in words alone, inexpressible,
like Allah, the Omnipresent, all-compassionate & Eternal!
So, does how we see matter, all in Creation Divine,
each of us holding as precious
our part perceived of the Cosmic Plan?
Let us all gather in a circle, upon a green, open plain,
where meet our many rivers from Vision’s Mountain,
in a place flooded with light, by a Jewel-like lake,
around which we can link hands, all pasts conflict forsake,
to share our understandings, images of ‘God’ & ‘Goddess’,
the Godhead, self-divided, so, in flesh, to manifest,
both our Father & Mother, we its varying children,
yet, still all brothers & sisters, in one family of Creation,
in which ‘God’ is  shown to us in both the deer & spider,
Thus, there, to acknowledge in that Creation our Common
                                                                        Temple!
      THE TREE OF LIFE (May 1998)
 At Akroyali Avias, nr Kalamata, Greece
The roots of the Tree of Life are in the past,
its growing trunk is the ever-present present
and its extending branches are our future,
its first young blossoms are our promise, of hope
of fruit to come, born of an ancient seed,
like the Three Fates that spin, weave our destiny
past, present, future, together preside,
the serving priestesses of Eternity,
as manifest in the cycles of Creation,
guardian spirits of the Tree, the manifestation
of the Holy Trinities that rule over our lives,
the triple-headed serpent of our Consciousness!
Neireid, Nyad, Dryad, the seas, rivers and trees
from the bitter waters of the ocean,
the sweeter waters of the land,
feed the roots of the trees of our Eden,
past into future, along this our strand
of daily living, thus, we shall progress,
according to that cosmically infinite process
that turns the dormant rock into living form
                                                       and being,
its potential locked in minerals from the past,
shall unfold before our eyes for our future
                                                          seeing,
in the Wisdom of the first
Cosmic Plan, its first laws cast,
as in tablets of stone burnt by the fire
of the energies of the life-force’s
                                     insatiable desire
to create and recreate,
an urge in ourselves, too manifest,
to move from past, through present, to future,
by the sap-flow of awareness
in our Trees of Life so blessed!

                THALASSA
Give me the temple of the Goddess Sea,
as the symbol of Eternity,
creative, caring for every life,
embodying both its calm and strife,
with shafts like gold-like energy and light,
between the waters, both above and below,
no cold or absolute blackness, for when we are in
                                                                     death-
there will be plenty “time” to know that! Now, 
                                                          let this Earth
be our delight, though a brief and so full rainbow,
for here, in the relative, shall the caring Gods
                                                           we know,
as ‘Goddesses’, like ‘Thalassa’, waters for the 
                                                    Tree of Life,
of the Creator Spirit, the ever loving, patient wife!
CONTEMPLATING THE TAYETOS MOUNTAINS
Easter Sunday, at Akroyali Avias, 1998
My self and the Mountain are brothers,
our vibrations meet and there is kinship;
my soul and the souls of the Trees
and of the birds, are sisters,
together, in season’s cycle, we dance
the circling dance of life,
we know each other,
we do not need to explain each other,
we are, here, together,
this is our holiest communion
with the one eternal-infinite Great Spirit
whence we all sprang!
My heart sings as the birds sing,
I bask and dart in the sun with the lizards,
the paint-brush of my mind has the rainbow of colours
of all the grasses and springtime flowers
over which my eye flutters
with the butterflies;
I love all the other creatures
and, knowing this, they love me!
Love is our bond, not any paper-church religion,
nor any other abstract understanding,
in the Universe, in my transient form of a man,
here, my consciousness standing
before and after yet a different incarnation!
From my collection of poems written while living in Greece
entitled “Songs of Thalassa”.
        OUR UNIVERSALIST MESSAGE (1999)
Our Universalist Message,
for the coming Third Millenium
is born not of ideology’s heritage,
nor of the evolving continuum
of man-made, ancient, religious belief,
so much as of a new experience,
a psycho-cosmic transcendence,
to the Universe vast, itself, an infinite response,
as our Eye of Consciousness*    *= “Third Eye”
travels beyond our blinkered planet,
across the Solar System and the galaxy,
and we realize the sheer scope minute
of our present beings,
vibrant specks of dust in space;
then, all ego dissolves in endlessness
and all men** who think their idea great, unique
that they alone have the truth that all men seek
will become as echoeing voices that shout loud,
yet make no sound, isolated madmen,
in that promised “Day of Judgement”,
that final Second Coming in which the judge divine
is infinity itself in which we our true size see,
as that of our divisive, obsessive dogmatisms
when that Christ-light experience
puts to flight all our schisms!       ** = ‘males’
   A TAOIST MANIFESTO  OF A NON-VIOLENT GARDENER (The Year 2000)
All machines are designed as weapons
for the murder of our Mother Earth,
such as I knew ever since I was young
and the bulldozers tore out the roots
of the oak and beech woods of my native hearth
for open-cast mining and motorways
and filled in the pond whence the stream flowed
                                                    from springs,
so full of weed and fishes, to build housing estates
and tore down, with chainsaws, the great old
                                                         Village Oak 
that had been there before Chaucer* his well-
                                                 Famed verses spoke,
where once all the wild birds sang their beauteous
                                                            Song,
when I first learnt, in life’s school, all these lessons
that a man should till no more land than he can turn
with a spade or a fork or a mattock,
cut down no more growth than he can with a scythe
or sickle in Nature’s own preferred season,
and respect all the trees,
the home and food of the bees
and the birds, of our Mother’s other creatures,
and abstain from the noises of warfare
of egoistic civilizations on Nature,
for this is the first warfare,
all other wars from it sprang
when animal hunter’s spear
into battle was first flung
even against his own fellow humans
and the arrows that shot at the sweet, timid deer
became the first missiles, such as, now, cost us so dear!
So, let each man be content
that his life be quiet spent
in a grove that is rich, wild as Eden
for once the Global Machines rule all,
then tyranny’s armies shall, surely, spoil
Humankind, Our Earth and our Freedom!
*Geoffrey Chaucer, the C14th English poet.

REFLECTIONS ON CHRIST (1999)
Now, our new spiritual leaders lead,
more & more of our people, leaving behind
our antiquated politicians and their creed
of mght is right & corrupted, realpolitik minds,
our spiritual-ethical revolution
already has, like seeds sprouting, begun
but the barricades we erect, now, are psychic
and no material force can make them weak!
No state borders can obstruct our movement
which moves like the air, free, on wings of Spirit,
spreading seeds of Eutopian tomorrows,
silently, invisibly, wherever it flows,
until these lands in far-more fertile earth
become manifest in a far-off hearth
of friendship’s welcome! Thus, the Plan Divine
gathers momentum and we must catch the time
and with its flow, sail, or be stranded, left
with the past-anchored spokespersons
of the old political ‘right and left’,
with all their delusory systems of power-
for we, the quiet ones, it is, now, the hour!
“And the least shall be the greatest
and the greatest shall be the least,
in that Day of Judgement!”
Thus foretold Jesus Christ!
          COLOSSUS OF RHODES
  Dedicated to all my poet friends in Athens
Humankind! Be like a Colossus of Rhodes,
striding the harbour mouth
through which all peoples come and go
in the vessels of their bodies and souls,]
with one foot on the eternal shore
of spirituality
and the other on the often changing shore
of worldly practicality,
with your head up in the Cosmos,
rooted in primordial rock,
arms reaching out, open, like a cross,
an ideal for a humanity futuristic,
yet, every moment, coming into being
even while its form over ocean we are seeing,
in imagination, like a hologram,
that can take on our flesh of Adam,
idea becoming reality,
as Plato asserted, pre-BC!
Yes, we each can be that form
in which to manifest this spirit,
when a higher consciousness becomes the norm,
beyond out ancient dreams, we shall become it!

      NIGHT-DREAM-POEM
          (Athens, 14/9/2000)
At the end of the curve of a dream
is, of a new light, a special place
where one will awaken to a vibrant truth
as events mysterious all fall into place
and unveil the pattern of our evolution,
if to continue onward be our resolution,
as along a long and narrow promontory
at the end a sacred temple isle to see,
our consciousness is restless for a change,
as we press on, from day to day,
making our inward journeys
that us prepare for a newer way.
         “MANIFESTING ONE’S DREAM”
At the Ensophion,Akroyali Avias, Greece (11/9/2000)
Should our dreams, visions be built, as we go along,
together with those with whom we would make it real
or can one construct a vision all complete, then, bring
others into its portals, asking them it to embrace?

Our dreams are ours alone until we them share
and, the simpler the vision, then, the easier
it is to break the bread that we have made
with whomsoever may come, in brotherhood’s communion;

but complex blueprints for the future the mind baulk,
preventing entry and philosophers’ abstract talk
leaves others too mystified, for the truth is best
expressed with a classical simplicity

of humbler acts and gestures,
as of all living forms of nature,
as clear as a single church bell that chimes
across an open landscape, in uncluttered space,
or, as a candle burning upon an ikoned shrine
of our inward devotion, as in meditation,
these need no intricate explanation
for we read our love for each other in each others’ eyes

and complex constructed systems can become
tomorrow’s imprisoning dogmas, even if born
of the released creativity of today’s freedom,
once we have ourselves free from yesterday’s dreams torn
and the idea or ideal written in a book,
fossilized in print, even as engraved in stone
becomes rigid in its letters, ceases fluid to flow
as did the free-flowing springs of its first inspiration,
coming to bear the stamp of the ego of its creator,
a psychic copyright that declares that it is yours or mine,
possessed, defined, no longer held in common,
a resource for all, unpossessed, from the One
whom we all once called “The Nameless One”.

So having glimpsed a Vision’s Temple, let it grow,
naturally, as love and sharing we with each other show!
Otherwise it is but a beauteous shell of an empty cathedral,
yet another religion without soul, though with all the ritual!

               DREAMING
    “Life is a dream” – Pirandello
       (dedicated to Pam, my wife)
Often I think I am dreaming
but awaken to find all is real,
to be with you a joy beyond dreaming,
together, in harmony, to feel,
for one’s life is like a dream

in which one often awakens
in many different times and places
so that one must just trust to the flow
of its events, as they come and go,
guided by Muses, Graces, Guardian Angels!

    A TEMPLE FOR THE MUSES 
     At Nafpaktos*, Greece 12/9/2000
 (dedicated to my deceased friend, Alexis Nasakis)
To make a new start for humanity,
it is best to begin with oneself,
find a pure point as a centre,
in a clean place on natural earth,
a centre of a circle
within the greater circles
of trees, of hills, of mountains,
of the sky, of the universe,
surrounded by the music
of the crickets, of the birds of dawn,
whence the clear light flows as easily
as the light from the rising sun
and shimmering moon
over the Mother-Sea,
responding to life with poetry
and the rhythms of a vibrant dance
and gods and goddesses all around us,
as in our beings as woman and man,
construct, of our visions, the theatre,
even, as in lost, ancient times,
a simple rebeginning,
taught by Creation’s intuitive rhymes,
the corn and grass green on the plain,
who can to what one feels give a name?
That is not needed! We know what we see,
it is enough, here, just to be,
to open our eyes of creativity,
even as dawn’s light flows over the life-blessing land,
for music to spring from our souls,
to make how we all are more whole!
Forget those complex constructs of the mind
for reorganizing humankind;
here, we are governed by our hearts,
even as one tunes a harp to the vibration
of the greater music of Creation
and empty stage of the theatre
of tomorrow awaits its actors
for the creation of the future
in every precious moment of the now!

THE EPILOGUE - “NOW”  On Beeston Beacon, Leeds, June 2001
 NOW is the TIME,
 the only TIME
 for the CONTINUUM OF TIME
 is nothing but the infinite points of NOW,
 stimulus-and-response, action-and-interaction
  at microscopic speed in macrocosmic CREATION,
   at ZEN-instant thought-and-deed accomplished NOW,
  changes completed, do we wake or dream
  whether we do or don’t do, in our stream
  of E-mail instant consciousness, making the NEWS
  of personal, global evolution in this NOW,
  be we to what takes place alert, aware
  or, in blissful ignorance, unaware.
 Thus, our lives’ boats will catch or miss each tide,
  rising and falling for all, world-wide,
 TEMPUS FUGIT,
  take or leave it!
  The flower we saw ‘yesterday’ has blown
  become the seed that soon to be sown
  will, in turn, become ‘tomorrow’s flower’,
  in its own, eternal transient hour.
  ‘Yesterday’ is but an archive
  of ‘nows’ that were once alive,
  energy transferred to another chance
 in an eternal spirit-matter dance
 and ‘tomorrow’ is but what can become
if we act in the NOW in step to its constant rhythm!
The Law of Karma flows so,
 Does not deliberate
 Like committees that forever wait
To fulfil their abstract promises!
 DO NOW what must be done NOW
 for ‘soon’ other things will come
 to demand, of each, attention, in a NOW to come
 when what is not ‘now’ done,
 must be left, later, ever, not done
because it has lost its moment
in an unrelenting MOMENTum!
All poems come in the NOW,
 a flash from Spirit ephemeral,
 soul-uplifting and ethereal,
to be manifest in our words – we will know HOW
 if we instantly tune in and are free to listen
in a clear space undistracted, giving all attention!
Our world has changed so much-
but how many of us know it,
inside fixations with such and such,
with what has ‘gone’ ‘will come’, blinkered and trapped,
leaving no spaces free to BE
such as are our moments to BECOME
 BEINGS transformed and magically transmuted,
our inner voice of NOW in routines muted? 
The Amerindian wanders in the Vision Quest,
 wandering and  seeming aimless in the Wilderness,
 everything in Creation all around perceiving,
 ready for the Vision Message, it receiving,
with the coming of an animal, bird or dream,
seeing, as a whole, in a random NOW, all Wisdom
such as will make of his/her new life the foundation,
 thus, the simple warrior transcends into shaman,
a spiritual leader for his/her nation,
 tuned in not to expectation, but to intuition!
  Musicians know this who compose by feel
 of every note’s vibration as Muses reveal
 the Song of Orpheus as on Aeolian Harp,
played by Zephyrus with a poignant beauty sharp,
yet gentle, in the ‘now’ of the tune’s creation!
This is what makes a Man or Woman ‘poet’,
 this, the baptismal moment of Salvation
  when in prayer’s stillness comes to us The Christ,
to be with us ever after, in every following NOW	
when asking our questions, we shall, then, all their answers know!
And Paradise on Earth shall be
when we all are tuned into Eternity
each through our gateways of the constant now;
whatever is needed, we shall then know HOW
 it to accomplish, without bureaucracy
in a Spiritual-Creative Anarchy
of ever-willing interaction
with each other and with all Creation
which has its inbuilt laws to guide
us through all issues narrow or wide,
playing our world, by ear, like jazz
 without Constitutional razz-a-mataz!
 NOWTOPIA, NOWARCHY ensure all harmony
 when we are free to become because we BE,
 going beyond the Zen of each solitary poet
to a collective Zen of which we all are part,
with TIME and CHANCE to accomplish EVERYTHING
and, yet, still have time, like children, to dance and play and sing,
and wing like birds that trill in a Summer meadow,
 responsive to the LIGHT that each morning flows
for our enlightenment and upliftment
into our SACRED, COSMIC CREATOR, NOW!
LOVE springs from NOW!
It does not calculate
 as water springs and flows
 and needs not to anticipate or ponder
 to embrace us with its wonder!

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