For once there was a perfect time, filled with perfect, in perfect rhyme.
The laze of man, of thing and things and all the emptiness that human brings
Met with perfect, at the door, dropped it’s bag and cried no more.
Yet human man he soon forgot, built his castle, learned to rot.
Forgot that perfect, held his hand, tolled the roads, ploughed the land.
Then one day when man was old, a moment touched, a silence hold.
Of a perfect day, not noticed then, cared then less, cared not again.
It’s that call that calls him now.
Frets the beads, upon his brow.
…….perfect came and perfect went
A perfect moment, no man has spent
For perfect is as perfect be, perfect touch, as perfect see.
Yes perfect called, this man missed thee
For perfect shouts, so silently.
Perfect kissed with perfect breath
Then perfect looked,
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Credits: poem @ justme; Image: CatrinPhoto; All rights reserved.
Eyes closed then wider opened, I enter a higher land.
While smoothing touch of air, of wind, seduces my skin on face.
Soft and warm, fulfilling, I welcome its gentle, caring touch.
If its love I long, its smothering caress, draws me closer
Then heavy eyelids slide up to glimpse a twinkle in the sky
As all great men have seen, so now have I.
Invisible umbilical draws it,
closer to me.
Longing, sprited heart seeks its solace, its centre.
Oh if I could merge with thee, and touch the mind of man.
Fill this gap, this space between you and I .
I dream your fire, your peace, your power,
The raindrops slip
and drop, to earth
The noise they make dances within my ears as
The buzz and bizz of man made energy hums and mumbles
Dull, yet somehow clear.
I hold this scene with eyes now closed
and drift and shift, so slow.
Time stands still
My heart and mind raised, beyond all mountain top.
I see. ∞
We talk of relationship. Consider if you will that word? Consider how discussions surround and slice and manipulate and dissect and probe our sense or our opinion of what a relationship is or should be. Yet is not an opinion of a perfect relationship similar to the concept or imagining of a perfect circle? We understand and can imagine that circle, yet we cannot express the same in the human world, no matter how disciplined the equipment or intricate the detail or precise the process, still it is flawed. Yet how is it we can even comprehend a perfect circle? The fact we can understand and imagine an imperfect circle must be itself prove the existence somewhere of the perfect circle? So could it also be true of relationships, we play and dissect with opinionated views collected through a thousand instances with our own concept of perfect relationship, perfectly flawed but by itself perfect proof of the perfect relationship?
Does the perfect relationship come from the unity of all things, is the struggle of humanity to find consolation within relationships a cry for the perfect, a desire for the unseen, the human scene merely an imperfect circle reflecting upon a perfect spiritual being, already connected to everyone, so connected there is no other, just one?
Love me, like I love you.
Touch me with all thats true.
For the night is dark and cold and still is the air.
Will you just stand, look upon me and stare?
I am just the same as you.
A roaring lion but underneath a shrew.
I only play dead that you might see
The true humanity within justme
I asked dear god to save you so
I prayed the prayer only martyrs know
Still they came and stole you away
The enlightened book proved no sway.
So all was gone and your breast was pierced
An intruder there within the grail
Children cried and yet forgot
Yet you mother, guarded from the cot.
They say yesterday is but a simple dream
Yet here is the place you and I have been
Let no man shout about what I have not
Unless they seen you, spoke to you or seen your lot.
Let heaven or hell or the clouds fall in
For a kiss from you I would commit all sin.
Stay with me just a little while for the night draws dark and soon sleep shall come.
As eyelids close, vagueness falls, the picture evaporates…
and nothings left to understand, at all.
Stay with me just a little while
Hold me tight as I recoil. For cold is the night and all is lost ∞
Credits: poem @ justme; Image @ CatrinPhoto; All rights reserved
It is true of every human that the thing which seems the weakest, that thing which draws a human experience toward the source,like a moth to the light, is actually the strongest.That thing which may be called a hidden desire,an unfulfillment, is so strong and its presence is always felt no matter how faint,though we sometimes go left or right and up and down or stand still, eventually we find the same light and even though we may get burned and even materially destroyed, we fulfil our destiny of servitude and experience which is the fulfillment of the law.The fulfillment of the law, though it may need numerous attempts will always eventually lead to recognition of the expression of source like a droplets of water fulfilling that which is called wave. So too that which is our destiny will realise its connection with life and we will understand that even mans concept of time and space,desire and fulfillment are merely concepts expressed by that which cannot entertain anything of a greater magnitude.
This seemingly hidden desire will shed the clothes of disguise through that which is referred to as experience and be seen once again, as it was in the beginning and ever shall be, world without end.∞
A video version of this fragment can be found here
..and I shall say upon the stranger, take off your coat, for you have arrived now to that so longed after place, the place impregnated within your heart. Take off your coat and lay it gently beside that warming, ember fire.
Then sit, rest a while, for your journey has been long and longer still, your feet have held your hearts true intent, yet at times you dragged an Island upon your back, only to find a mountain. Silent now, rest for now, my good and perfect guest. Rest a while, lay your head upon my shoulder, remember them, the special ones, think of them, the now silent ones. Rest now, it is not just you, for the sun grows weary too, the moon falls dark and quieter still, the stars fight no more.Lay your head upon my shoulder, let your face be warmed by the glow of the throbbing, searing coals, for I am here, I am, is here and I shall rock you carefully, gently, silently asleep.
Oh troubled one, lay your troubles to the door, cry silently, but..perfectly, perfectly….shhh
Come sing with me, oh choir of man for knaves and kings and precious things
You have not known or understand. Come dance with me, oh child of God
For her and he and all things free, while you still move above the sod
Come lie with me, oh queen of life, for want and will and endless still
That knows not of the human strife, come pray with me, oh spirit child
For tower and tree and bird and bee, that knows there is no wild
Come sleep with me, oh prince of peace, for dark to day and to find a way
That knows all tongue will rest and cease,
Come home with me,
O blessed might
For touch and time, and your life sublime,
that knows you are my loving light
Your now with me, oh spirit man, destiny unfold the master plan
You arrived back home from where you came.
Despite you playing, the human game.
…and then she rose and spoke and a calm energy filled the space and they knew the ground she standeth on was but hallowed ground, as her words flowed, so too their ears were filled with longing, not for the sounds or rolling of tongue but for the space between, for as the stress of sound and syllable left her tongue to reach the ether so too their hearts filled with remembrance of a yesterday when whence the first remembered their own silent song of longing and fulfilment.
As the drums of man beat out its tone the blood of life flowed from their veins and trickled through the earth to join that holy moment of life and love and foreverness. Her words were but a dance of destiny evoking not the mind of man but of tomorrow and a new dream, they troubled not the intellect for they closed the door against such a fiery guest, yet they flew from the windows to reach the stars and she, yet she knew it not, formed and kneaded the bread of spirit that their spirits together echoed and bellowed a thousand worlds.