Misplaced

Waterfalls of silence

flood my senses and heart.

It is too hard and too soft at the same time.

Smokey shadows of what could have been linger.

“If only” echos across my senses

alone to exist in the perpetual in-between.

Only a thought, a glimpse of there and then.

Not here and now.

Passion, mine,

misplaced and misunderstood remains

quiet and sleepy now,

All consuming,

Silently alone.

Too Late

It’s too late now.

No point in trying to start over.

It is back.

Same but different.

I feel like I’m waiting.

Waiting for life to pass as children do when they play games

killing time to grow up.

Except,

I’m killing time to die.

But it’s not a sad state.

It feels normal.

A part of the progression of life.

Moving toward the end,

is smooth and well… it’s okay.

I feel sometimes like time has stopped.

My quest for life’s riches has ceased to be important and, in its place,

is a quiet resignation, a comfort.

Gratitude fills me with the knowing that all is as it should be.

There truly is a time for every purpose under heaven…

Always Over

Everything is always over.

It isn’t here and now,

its there and then.

The window shade is crooked,

driving me crazy.

Its never over until I fix it.

The trip is over,

It was and now isn’t.

If there is no memory of the doing,

did it happen?

It isn’t here or now,

or there or then.

It just isn’t,

Or is it?

Friday Afternoon Sit

As I sit in darkness, a glimmer of light shines around the dark edges of my closed eyes,

growing until my field of vision is full of blinding white light.

It is here that hope and love float freely on waves of peace and

Krishna’s voice sings along with the song of my heart.

He flushes away the darkness and frees me from the pain it carries.

I feel sorry for the darkness.  It lacks the power to forget itself.

Do I have that power?

I continue to sit and wait for an answer.

As I wait, silence pervades the shrine room and my heart.

The others in the room disappear when I close my eyes,

their energy lost in the space between the cushions.

I feel neither their presence nor their absence,

until my eyes open and their collective energy floods over me intruding on my silence and peace.

The bell rings, three times and the session ends.

I must put away thoughts, cut off fear or bliss, end the waiting and

Reluctantly resume a presence in this material world.

A world of light, dark, hope, despair

love, loss, hate, and peace.

Silent sitting can isolate or open my heart.

The choice is mine to make.

A choice that can be good or evil,

warm or cold,

lasting or fleeting but really,

is there a difference?

Here and now or there and then?

The break is over and the sitting resumes.

Odd thoughts and feelings float out of the deep recesses of my mind

in the silence of the shrine room.

There are thoughts that come and go.

Some are gentle and kind,

others judgmental and cruel.

Shadows from the past sneak in disturbing my peace,

rekindling painful times.

I let them stay,

feel their pain and then let them pass.

They are not forgotten or forgiven but allowed to slip by, dismissed from my life.

Do the others I sit with feel my pain or know my thoughts?

Is my pain theirs too?

Are we really all the same?

But what if we believe in different things?

I, in my Lord Krishna,

they in themselves.

Their breath guides their thoughts.

His breath guides mine.

This retreat is a place of silence and peace.

A place to reflect on everything or nothing.

Their nothing is my everything.

My everything is none of their concern because to them, it’s not real.

So, what is real?

My thoughts, their nothingness, my love, their indifference,

My self their no self?

I don’t know…

I’m tired now.

I’ll start over later,

when the bell rings again.

 

Stunned

 He lays silently in the snow

Tiny heart pounding, feathers rumpled,

eyes blinking, waiting for his head to clear.

My existence here, here in my space with its clear reflecting glass sometimes brings pain and suffering to the very creatures I want to help.

But he who lays silently in the snow doesn’t judge me.

He is innocent and unaware of the glass that stunned him.

So I give him space, wait a while and when next I look, my heart cheers to find him gone.

Flown away, back to his world of blue sky and white snow.

His glass-less world of silence and cold.

A world that I, despite my so-called intelligence and desire to help,

Could never recreate.

To Be

There is a thickness to humanity.

A dense and heavy layer.

A disguise, a cover, an excuse.

A veil of mystery waiting to be

Lifted, awakened, removed.

There is so much, so much in each one,

So deep, so vast, so hidden.

But there are those moments,

Moments of clarity, moments of knowing,

Moments of awareness for even the

Most unaware.

The richness that hides beneath

Comes to the surface, unbidden but persistent.

Always there in each of us, waiting behind the scenes, waiting to be noticed,

Waiting to be

To be

To just be

And be done.

Once More

This well isn’t dry,

Not yet.

I feel it stirring,

Waking up.

There is a sense of fullness in my head.

My thoughts are racing, competing, but none are clear.

They are busy working things out on their own,

Hidden from me in a misty veil

Until one, that special one, breaks through

And brings with it a flood of words.

Not from me but through me from

Behind the veil.

I can’t tell the veil when to lift,

It tells me, and after it has had its way,

Has said what it needed to say,

It slips back behind my eyes, rests and is silent.

And the words sleep and are at peace until

The stirring begins again and the veil is lifted,

Once more.

Just When I Thought I was Done…

Its duality is open and alive.

Broken but still alive.

It feels tight around my heart, but runs loose in my soul.

It appears useful at times,

A burden at others.

It has been too long and

I have grown tired of its games,

Its stubbornness,

Its selfishness.

I will send it packing.

I’ll sit on the suitcase top and stuff it all in and

Then I’ll watch it drag itself down the dusty dirt road alone

With bits of colored clothing sticking out through the hinges

Until it is only a cloud of dust fading in the distance.

But when I turn to leave, to finally put it in the past where it belongs, I will see it again,

Coming back at me from the opposite direction.

And just when I thought I was done…

Never Let Go

Seashells and wave echoes

Swirl and laugh in the emptiness behind my eyes.

I have let it go, sent it away,

Opened the lock and set it free.

This open space is vast, quiet and soft.

Wave echoes roll around the edges of my inner space

And blend with the stillness that never stands still.

There is a flow and a wash to this interior space.

A space that holds it all and more.

More me, more us,

All together in the vastness of love and peace, so come,

Kick off your shoes and dance with me.

Listen to the song of the seashells and watch,

Watch the empty space fill with us and more.

Catch the wave echoes when they come around again but

This time, this one last time,

Never let go.