Chosen

Alabaster skies tinted crimson
witness the passage of time
landforms slowly shift
rolling waves of tectonic force
pushes light continental plates
across dense oceanic expanses
the cycles of life
born witness to
by deeper, slower forms
of consciousness
aeons in age
and existence
ponderous and fathomless
to quicker, more ephemeral
forms of life.

There exists within the mote
of a gnat’s eye fractal patterns of
co-creation, implicit in
every breath, every heart
beating to the rhythm of
the cosmos, expressly manifest
in the destiny of all life,
material accumulations
of consciousness
here today, gone tomorrow,
the cycle ever continues
as life expresses itself
in never-ending spirals
of higher and higher transformation.

Humanity quails beneath the weight
of recriminations endless
in nature of nature lost
paradise bereft
crumbling, wasting away
beneath the burden of mass genocide
and wasted opportunities
to shepherd Gaia’s fields,
maintain her pastures and mountains,
the quality of the water,
the air, the earth herself,
the etheric responsibility of
genetic imperatives ancient in conception
the family of life
and love denied,
minimized and enslaved to the power
of command and control.

The desires of consumption are simple,
childlike in actuality
and essence, the need for greed,
to consume without consequence,
ignoring the balance of nature,
the balance of the Cosmos themselves,
honoring the egocentric and selfish,
denying the holistic and universal
in favor of the desire to
feed one’s perceived need
irregardless of the cost
to the rest of us and the planet
herself, no set upon a path
of recovery and rejuvenation
with or without
her human horde.
.
Those who feel the pain of the planet
who live, in actuality, the truth
that the body is the temple,
as above, so below,
how the earth goes, so goes
humanity,
are those to whom the planet is promised,
the guardians of the co-creative principle
of perfection and peace,
the savage garden alive
with the imperatives of transcension,
moving forward, higher, spiraling into eternity
wafting upon the breath of divinity,
ever blowing from below,
lifting those chosen
to the heights of their
own, personal, spirit
of perfection.

Chosen by choice,
by the small whispering voice
within, exhorting them
toward conservatorship, toward acceptance
of the role of responsibility,
of being the high mind
bent upon representing the realities
of the divine, to return the earth to
her pristine state, to co-exist with
the plants, the animals upon this
soaring orb, bound upon a journey
of forever, travelling the cosmos
in search of its own dissolution,
knowing that this is the path of all
life, all things born must die
and all things lower,
must rise.

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The Shibboleth of Fears

When I die, just let my body lie, right there, on the ground. Don’t bury me and don’t burn me, let me remain where I’m found. Let my corpse fester, bloat, molder and rot, let the Insects eat me, let the Birds and Animals feast on my flesh till nothing’s left but bones and ground. Let Nature have me, let Life consume me, returning me to the essence of Creation itself. The endless process of Birth, Death and Rebirth, nothing is wasted all is gained, as I return to the Earth. A smorgasbord,  real wealth, every morsel enjoyed, creatures large and small benefit as my cells are redeployed.

Don’t waste time on grieving, or mourning my loss, my Essence will be in the Wind, my Soul is not lost. Energy cannot be destroyed only transformed, that much is true. In the gaze of a Vulture or the sheen of a Fly, my genetic material will return by and by. The smell, it will pass, the grotesquery is not for long, the efficiency of Nature is a bounteous and beautiful song. Waste not an ounce of artificial preservers, no embalming fluids at all, the Stars, Dirt and Trees deserve the bounty of my Fall.

As my eyes glaze over and my vision is dimmed, a single, solitary blade of Grass shall be my last friend. So beautiful, so wild, so perfectly formed, as Darkness closes in that sight shall keep me warm. As feelings grow distant and movement grows faint, I look forward to the clarion call of Angels, the bass bellow of the Saints. The only Church I need are the Trees grown so tall, their crowns like wondrous temples, that beckon one and all. I seek not large Funerals, not accolades or words, the gratitude of the Ants is enough, or even the Birds. To give back to life is the highest of destinies, to return to mere Dust and to float on the Breeze.

Think of me when you look to the Sky and the Stars, when you hear a faint voice on the Wind, from afar. If ever your Thoughts should in my direction turn, remember my Words and my spurning of Urns. Of Coffins and Burials, of Ceremonies and Grief, to return to the material of Life itself eases my Journey Beyond, no more do I ask, because Love is Eternal and sharing our task. To some this may sound crazy and it is to you I speak now, this is no form of vanity but a norm of the Tao. We belong to this Planet this is known beyond doubt, our bodies are Stardust coalesced sent to scout out the vagaries of Life to seek Strife to seek Pain to live Joy to live Hard to live Right from the Start.

My Blessing was to be here and perhaps yours was too, to experience the bounty of Life’s fatal Brew to drink deep to drink long to eat, dance, sing and sleep, to greet the Morn with a smile to walk long and lonely miles, to find Companionship and Hate, to have Babies and to await the arrival of Death upon our Shores, to be thankful for everything and much more. These are the most transcendent Gifts as we approach that fateful Rift between Life and what lies Beyond, those places we go when we break our last bond with all that remains here in this fateful Vale of Tears, the recognition of true Origins, that Shibboleth of Fears.

So pay heed to my words and listen closely I plead, they come from my spirit and the highest of needs. To give back to Earth Mother and to seek the Father’s ear, to look forward to Judgement with the highest of cheer. We are not our bodies these are but  vehicles indeed, that served us as needed as we followed our Creeds. When I go to rest I care not regarding flesh, but if I have a say in it I prefer to nourish weeds. This is the Greatest of Loves, this Truth I assert, to witness the flight of a Dove, to forget harms and hurts, before my eyes close forever and my flesh returns to dirt, to you I send all that I ever claimed as mine as I surrender to the Divine. My laughter echoes Heavenward as my spirit climbs aligned with the Stairway to Heaven and the Highest of High. And the last you will hear from me shall be a well-contented sigh.

Pure Beingness

Lush dreams of verdant swaths of forested mysticism,
brilliant orbs of misty light waft upon breezes of starry night,
the darkness cloaks distance, a soft embrace soothing skin
burnt by the Sun, melanated bronzen against the black ether,
camoflauged against sight, embraced by the night …

Eyes dart upwards and then down, the soft carpet of cool grass
confiding in skin shimmering under the soft moonlight, steps
slow and purposeful as the forest sings, the chorus of natural
sounds uninterrupted by conscious thought crickets saw
cacaphonic songs in perfect harmony while the lightning bugs
dance, patterning intricate geometrical shapes in the soft air,
the breeze carrying intimations of water, faintly luscious,
caressing nostrils warm with life’s breath …

Heart beating in tune with Gaia, breath taken, released, a cloud
of love billowing forth, embracing Being, encapsulating consciousness,
melding with the respirations of the forest, Oneness manifest …

A burst of movement, black life fractally dispersing as bats take
flight, high notes of exhiliration greeting the night, leathered wings
flapping, their voices exciting movement as insects flee, life’s promise
broken in the instance of their consumption, the gift of sustenance
promised before Being became, the neverending tale of ebb and flow,
beginning and ending, life and death …

Where then does belonging cast an anchor of desire, within the web of existence all creatures find space to live, firing time through sublime presence divine, casting will and intent into the void without promise, without pact, each moment a completed dare, a leap into the unknown, bold existence the challenge taken up, transcendent evolution the goal.

The Circumvention of Fate

Desperation is in the air. Can you feel it?

It’s in that thousand yard stare you see sometimes, walking down the streets, gaze fixated mostly upon your own feet but looking up sometime, catching a glimpse of gazes, phases of mental gone medieval, often wild and feral, telescopic scopes above a cocked gun barrel, burning above tightened and frozen lips.

A sublime trip into the mind of the divine. You can see it in the eyes of many lost and bewildered members of the human tribe, hearts tendered upon alters of greed, frozen screaming, lost in the tribulations of their own half-unconscious but transcendent need. Almost everybody you pass is ass out, minds elsewhere, worrying about cash, about the job, about making ends meet. It’s that mad dash into the future we’re on, trying to appear strong while inside we’re quaking and outside we’re shaking, more or less, tested to the extreme, worry and regret struggling in the middle of life’s turbulent stream.

Time seems to be passing way too quickly, it’s sickly. Choices being made that we regret almost instantly, surrounded by temptation we forgo the mandatory oblations, giving in way too freely, it’s a mess. Really, it’s a damn shame, tested, like Cain, caught slaying brother Abel we swang, private parts in the wind, buffeted about by our own sins, looking around for someplace to hide, but we can’t pretend, there’s no solace from the wrath of God’s eyes, in the end.

But, we try. Finding those hidden corners in our minds, caught out, we gesticulate wildly, babbling like some kind of hideous street mime. Lies attempt to win the day as we play the game of life, causing strife, as if this is the only way to be, as if this is the only way to see through the illusions, trying not to fall, catching yet another contusion on the brain, half-lame we stumble through the mist of half-forgotten crimes, committed to do the time of life on earth, forgetting that we’re really here to experience a rebirth, of spirit, of soul, the goal almost beyond grasp, the sacred asp of the ancients the last gasp of mortality slipping from lips agape, awed by the utter immensity of Creation’s fell maw. A truly unenviable state.

And, by the way, maw means jaws for the uninitiated, open wide, our hearts pounding inside, words not accompanying intentions, our misguided actions necessitating the Circumvention of Fate, the intervention of a higher state of being, seeing beyond the mundane, the limited visual capacity of the temporarily insane. How inane is that? Doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result, all the while pretending to be an adult.

And so it goes. And so we grow, deep in the throes of potentiality, creating reality with every breath, evolving as spirits of light with every test, committed until death.

That desperation that you see? It’s really a call to action for you and me. We are indeed our brothers and sisters keepers, street-wise sweepers of the detritus of life, we clean up our acts to move higher. Going through the dark night of the soul, hearts catching afire, becoming the phoenix of the dark morning’s dawn, harbingers of spiritual desire, becoming the angel that lost souls count on. Exemplifying the higher aspects of consciousness, forgoing the prideful excesses of pompousness. Yes, that’s the answer to it all.

The answer to our fateful and often inevitable fall.

Choose differently. Live gently, being kind to yourself. Release the pain and gain the clarity of peace, find your center and witness the turbulence and drama cease.

It is indeed possible. A choice to be made like any other, the choice to overcome any obstacle, to find the solution in the soluble, that which dissipates in nature’s flow, synchronicitous instances of life’s journey that cause us all to grow.

So there you go.

Choose wisely, and slow your roll.

Synergetic Woes

Agreements made beyond time

Awaken memories replayed beyond mind

Over and over,

Spiraling into forever, moreover

The Times demand a sign,

synchronicitous seekers of the Divine

communicate telepathically in rhyme,

melding minds, coalescing galactically

beyond the limitations of squares and trines,

planetary alignments fracturing spirits lost to incarnation,

oblations to Ancestors, gods and goddesses,

communion with Christ at each station of the Cross,

too many souls remain lost

yet some seek to be found,

grounding into Gaia, eyes wide and heavenly-turned,

the body an urn, a template of creation,

burned, ashes scattered to the winds,

seeking eternal friends of incarnation’s blessing,

blending sins, of God’s infinite testing.

Star Seed: The ancient breed

Star Seed: The ancient breed

Nights
Soulful seeds breed
Half-remembered memories
Of distant Eons
Disturbs dreams
Evoking Fantastic Visions of
Superhuman Pantheons
Third Eye awakenings herald
The onset of pineal potency

Of Gods and Goddesses making love
Beneath purple-hued skies
Multiple moons gliding by
Sighing and whispering as
We dance to the beat of ethereal tunes
Echoing The Music of the Spheres

Harmonic runes ring out
Chanted with solemn glee
Galactic progeny burst from the womb
Of Creation Herself while
Giants and Heroes war against
El Eloheem becoming in time
The Fallen Ones
Heir to death disease and
Warfare

The bass contusions of
Dark Matter Reborn
Rumble subsiding grumbling into
The nether regions of
Spatial inconsistency
Dark energys synergy with love
The key to understanding the
Tantric magic of
You and I

Serpent-fueled Kundalini rises
Formulating emotionally liberating
Connections that burst like convection
Upon the surface of Amenta
That which underlies Creation
The Void of Potential formed by
The desires and dreams of
Divinity Incarnate

A Nation of Stars
Fallen into the flesh
Risen from millennial crypts scripted in
Stone and silt headed full-tilt toward
Evolution of the Soul
Bones formed by crystalline veins
Of pure energy become viscous breaking
Free into skin and breath

Life pulsing then streaming in
Oceans of blood and DNA
Vivified by times immeasurable flow
A visceral experience bounded by
Nothingness

And yet
Everything is retained
Contained within The All
Cresting in heightening tides of
Awareness

The Holy Word spoken
Creation Become
Those memories are truly
Slipstreams of Incarnation
Fantastic voyages into the Souls
Declination beyond the Ecliptic
Beyond conceptions of propriety
And Society

Love shared
Beyond boundary

You
Me
He
She
We

Remember
Times beyond mind
Journeys of the sublime
Dream-like states
Wherein Souls in Synch
Approach the brink of
Conscious Awareness

Accompanying one another upon
Adventurous essays into Oblivion
The goal

Transcendence

Knowledge
Awareness
Remembrance

Memory becomes certain knowledge
The constraints of the flesh only
Ephemeral chains
As Eons collapse into
The Now
Awakening Genetic Cellular Databases (GCDs)
Programmed for Perfection
Overriding lifetimes of defection from
Our innate connection to
The Godhead

Chanting voices thrum
Ringing through my dreams
Tribal Nights contrast with scenes of
Technological Ascendancy presented
In multiple frames of fantastic
Visual potency timeless but vivid and
The Mantle of forgetfulness falls
Once again as dawns bright light
Erases the night and I awaken to

A brand
New
Day

Lost. 93,000,000 Miles from the Sun ~ III

The stars remain silent, as does Aum. We traverse an area of sublime perfection: a vast sea of dark matter – interstellar dust and quantum-level particulates conjoined in a sea of impermeability – interspersed with looping nebulae and black holes evidenced only by light-hoarding event horizons. I gasp in wonder and tears blur my vision.

A correlation bubbles to the surface of my thoughts. As with quasars, we are all emissaries of destiny, outward bound, the Omniverse our destination. It recedes, leaving only prescient awareness in its wake. Spiral and elliptical galaxies rotate in stately harmony as proud coteries of asteroids and comets spend themselves in vain attempts to escape the orbits of their destinies. I observe it all in solemn amazement, awed by the majestic beauty of creation. Aum breaks the silence abruptly.

“There is one final destination.”

Only one, I ask.

“Yes. Only one.”

“And where is this place?”

“It is here.”

We have come to a featureless, golden plain. I look around, finding nothing of consequence. There is no vegetation. No mountains, valleys or minor perturbations disturb the flatness. The marble path cuts a straight line to the horizon, the only differentiation between form and formlessness. The cyclones have left that path and wander in a seemingly aimless fashion across the desert.

“I do not understand.” I complain.

“Your understanding is not understandable,” he mocks, “you have only to be still and remember.”

I cannot prevent a sense of panic from setting in as I realize that our sojourn is almost complete. That, if I have not found myself by its end, some unspeakable destiny will befall me; a failure of character and intentions, fit only for one tied to the flesh for yet another turn of the wheel. I look around wildly, searching for some indication of who I am. Still there is nothing. Aum’s voice is gentle and soothes my distress.

“You have forgotten to remind me to speak of purposes.”

I apologize profusely, stumbling over my words once again, as I had when we first met. I ask him for patience, for him to work with me. I ask him for more time. His denial is expansive.

“In the end, your soul shall encompass all of the time in the Omniverse, time being relative to existence upon the gross material plane. There is no place for the linear progression of consciousness in the higher levels of vibration, where your eternal soul resides. Only the mind and certain aspects of the spirit are bound within time’s confines. The now contains a seed of memory – of eternity – a chance for you to transcend the cycle. But you must decide now. This opportunity may not manifest so clearly again.”

He pauses, his midnight eyes boring into mine. “My purpose is to help you to find yourself. To show you who and what you truly are, because you have forgotten. Most of the people on your world have forgotten and as a result, the Earth is dying. The premature transmigration of a planets soul is an occasion for great sadness. Our shared purpose is the prevention of this tragedy.”

“What do you mean?”

“As above, so below. The salvation of one soul becomes a template for the salvation of all souls. Through you, they may be saved.”

I struggle to understand. How is it possible to save all by saving one? Aums discourse replays in my mind. I am stardust. Everything is connected. My ego is not my self. I am the sum of my misguided intentions. Through me, we may be saved. As I contemplate eternity peace suffuses my soul and warmth born of compassion gathers upon the shore of my thoughts.

The little, black man peers at me with extraordinary intensity. “Tell me. Do you know who I am?”

I nod hesitantly. “Of course. You are Aum. You told me your name earlier, remember?”

“Yes, I do. I am Aum, but do you know what my name means?”

“No. Names have meaning?”

“Yes. Names contain the essence of things. No-thing is the absence of things. Formlessness. Names provide structure. Form. They facilitate the differentiation into some-thing. My name, Aum, is divine. My name contains the true will to power. My name is a primeval force, vibrating to the beat of the cosmos. Through my name, creation is become. Through my name you may find God within. Through my name you can find yourself.”

A flash of understanding increases the intensity of the vibratory energy flowing through me. I mouth his name, breathing deeply. Aum.

Then again, and once more. Aum. Something changes. The vibrations grow stronger and I reexamine the plain while simultaneously superimposing the vistas of our previous destinations atop the current one.

My vision is flawless, my hearing potent. The smallest sounds rush to my ear. The cyclones now move purposefully; converging, growing larger as each contributes its energy to the whole. They become a hurricane, twisting and screaming in reckless abandon, churning the golden sand into a stormy conflagration. The space around us remains calm and Aum watches me, his eyes shining.

I look deeper and discover hidden within the simplicity of this place the complexity of the others and, in the space of an instant, the connection becomes clear. Synapses flare as the synthetic ability of my brain bypasses the feral protestations of my ego and I observe from a space beyond as words, pictures and feelings manifest. Scenes of my life predominate.

There are my wife and daughter at home.
There are children playing beneath a cloudless, azure sky.
There are men dying, fighting in wars across the Earth.
There are elders, wasting away in hostels and filthy apartments.
There are women, men and children praying at the alters of their choice.
There are flowers, mountains, deserts and forests, fighting against encroaching pestilence.
There are streams, lakes, rivers and seas poisoned by waste and misuse.
There is the air, bearing death upon the intake of every breath.

Lust, hatred, envy, greed; the entirety of the world’s torturous ecstasy lies before me as a tapestry of life, woven of the fabric called death. Isolation, one from the other, marks the lives of the soul-lost upon the third planet from Sol, called Earth.

Suddenly, I know. I remember who I am.

The realization frees me from the chains of the flesh and I burst forth, a flaming ball of life-essence, dancing upon the astral-wind. My memory has returned and eternity beckons. My cellular database awakens and I hear the ancestors singing joyfully, their voices harmonizing with the heavens. I no longer see Aum but feel him, for he is a part of me and I still hear his voice ring out from within.

Have you found yourself yet?

Yes, I answer. I have.

Remember. Life doesn’t rewind.

An elevator chimes and I start, returned from trance. The hall remains empty of traffic and I note that time has resumed its irregular march. I turn from the confines of my past, an extraordinary sensation of peace suffusing my thoughts, and exit the building without a backward glance. No longer do I fear the day and the night holds the promise of further explorations of the inner, and outer, reality. Aum is my mantra and I exit the flesh at will to find myself encapsulated within a cocoon of love and compassion, connected to the formative void by the purity of my intentions. Sol beckons, his corona caressing my spirit and I revel in the gift, and promise, of life.

Darkness envelops me. I am rising and a formless but all-encompassing sensation reminiscent of forever is all that I feel. I was lost but now I’m found, 93,000,000 miles from the sun.

Lost. Part I

Lost. Part II

Lost. Part III

Copyright 2003. All Rights Reserved.