Such things

Heaven's horizon and a bird upon the stoop,
singing in half-steps or a scale as yet unknown to the world,
upon the precipice of precept known or unknown,
sought in memories vague in their forgettance;

What would it be if not for this, when beauty is great
and in the value of great things seeking the words to speak,
to define a formulaic constant in shades of uncertainty?

I tend not to bother with things I don't find incredible,
and incredulous is my preferred state if only I could stay,
and when music is so sweet I cannot turn away
and holds me in the grasp of its rhythms textured harmonic,

And when the world, so immense in its offer
awaiting but the sound of grace
and the surety of footsteps in finer sands

Would but know only its own price,
which is enlightenment perhaps,

I only wish it could be so -

NextStep (copyright)

It was your ego, it was your ego,
let it go, let it go, let it go,

My conscious liberation unto the way of the thousands
but no, it's too much, how can I possibly?

BSD from scratch?  But that would be impossible ...

Assembly assembling pushpop the stack back
and now addressing a deeper serenade

A language signified, dignified,
my aesthetic must be true

I wouldn't believe, too much to see
the world when it speaks to me

A million songs I've never sung,
a million thoughts my soul have stung
a million riddles coursing through my mind

And now -

Morning

In the morning I wake and wonder
and again fall out of myself

as words to wonder but are they mine?

Yet not to grasp, but to give,
said the sage, rowing the boat
across the river of the ages

and to hope for the blessings
of the other shore -

Hopes

Retrospective takes elective
Rivers were the thousand times

Words I ponder, walks I wander
Somewhere to the river's eye

Everything that came before
And everything I tried to rhyme

Something in the shadows called
And lost me as I touched the sky

So now I sit upon the preface
hoping that the words will rhyme

Villanelles I lost the form
Tried and tried to get it right

But maybe next I'll try it different
Something like a pantomime

Hope tomorrow brings a friend
And opens to my second sight:

Throw my hopes into the stream
And dream tomorrow's dream

Equations

Of blindness I have known much,
though yearning I would see;

Of error I have made my house,
though yearning to be free;

These quicksands always pulling down,
so swimming I might see;

The way is long and takes its toll,
but hoping faith I breathe,

Can only breathe,

Must breathe -



-----

Beginnings

And in time of beginnings ... caution and a delicate hand ...

The Left Hand

"Try rolling those dice with the left hand," said the mysterious stranger ... I reverse my polarity and feel wind under my wings again ...

A flock of birds overhead, how do they do it?  Flying in unison, one of body and mind ... they don't speak with words ... intuition

Cat Stevens, it seems, is one who knows:

"I listen to the wind, to the wind of my soul
Where I'll end up only God really knows ..."

Aphorisms

1. Though one might fall, so must the weight of his creation and all that came before.

2.The instinct of the soul is to rise; the error of the world is to steal it away:  Thus have the wise learned to hope.

3. If in seeking love we search for beauty, and in seeking truth we search for knowledge, then in seeking contentment we search only for ourselves.

4. To reflect upon one's error is to elucidate the truth of one's conceit.

5. To grieve is to find in error the ultimate truth of impermanence, of loss, and of the passing away of things.

Egoic

One might hope that the ego eventually would fade away, giving way to the heart, that the errors resulting from the ego clinging to its selfish desire might be corrected, that some metaphysical balance might be achieved, that all things happen in their own time, and that some cosmic process is at work - it seems inconceivable to think that after 6 billion years the planet would fail to manifest itself.