Nirvana

I realized lately that i've somehow managed to lose my inner peace. I feel restless when i lay down, even after a hard days work, even in the hands of my beloved, and often right after i first wake up. I can't seem to shake the feeling!
So i come to all of you in hopes to get some harmony in the dissonance in my mind. Write a poem that gives you inner peace or one that you think will bring about inner peace. I'll only hold this contest for 2 weeks. Hopefully that will give you some time to reach your inner zen. I can't wait to see what this brings about!

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     < normal spring day >
     
     At the nursery i get a cactus.
     To be truthful, i get two.
     
     The cacti add up.
     
     And the flowers are beautiful,
     but I resist.
     Thank goodness
     as i'd just have to plant them.
     
     "Or more likely buy them and not plant them",
     say my yellow primroses from last year
     madly blooming but still in their nursery pots.
     
     I stop for a donut.
     Two, to be truthful.
     Well, to be closer to the truth.
     
     Then i continue
     with the new leaves
     and birds and birds.
     
     A tall tree i can't identify
     seems to be steaming in the sun,
     but is really
     filling the air with cottony seeds.
     
     My dog chases a dragon fly,
     the first i've seen.
     
            - - -

Woodland Peace

Dappled sunlight plays across the tall bent grass,
deep moist emerald of summer speckled with bright flashes
where the sun manages to slip his fingers through the adult trees,
the ever-amusing soul jesting gently with chiding oaks.
"Shush, now, benevolent one, it's time for the world to rest."
The lazy light plays comfortingly across my half-closed eyelids.

A light breeze draws cool and fair across my face.
It soothes this space, sighing slow and soft.
"Safe and sound... Safe and sound..."
She folds me into her comforting embrace,
lulling me as a babe rocked at mother's bosom.
Caress me, sibilant singer, into sweet oblivion.

All is quiet here. The squirrels mute their chirps
in honor of its sacred stillness. Resting, reclined,
my limbs become heavy, my feet grow roots.
No movement around, as time loses meaning
and reality is only what my lazy lids show.
Soft aura complete, I drift away into peace.

This is one of my favorite types of writes so please excuse me whilst I flood your competition:


The Silence Within

Here,
Caught in a moment of pure consciousness
Mumbling words that cannot help but fall short
of what I mean to say

Some intangible thief is taking the breath away
And a charitable wind is bringing it back  
 
And as it blows

As it flows  

Around us

Past us

Through us

It becomes the voice of the grass and leaves
as they speak in reverent whispers to the sun
 
The birds are more boisterous in their praise, however
Their simple melodies
offbeat rhythms,  
and complex harmonies
Set the ambiance for a playful game of tag

Somewhere in the distance inside
The children's laughter
becomes the last piece of the puzzle
A conundrum that makes me aware of the silence

The welcome silence within.

The Hush That Falls Over The Crowd

When we are free there will be silence
Silence because there won't be a sound fit to express it all

All of our feelings of Love,
Admiration,
Trust,
Empathy,
Compassion,
and Worth,
Will be expressed through us and not merely by us.  

From somewhere within this mortal form
the eternal vibration of sound manifests itself
as the countless functions of Living and Being

Breath sees us as it's children and cares for us as best it can
But there are some things so beautiful
that even Breath is awestruck
and must stop for a brief moment in forever
Just to Witness
We can only aspire to that beauty,
dream to be that breath-taking

Where are you amongst the clutter?
If I follow the warmth of your exhale will I find you there?
Underneath all the rubbish I would toss aside
would you be the unpolished jewel that I could find?
Would you be the lead awaiting its transformation?
The performer who takes the stage just for that moment,
when the curtains open,
and the hush falls over the crowd?

One In A Million

A fool you're burning for feeling a yearning
to be a shooting star,
to race across the sky only to die,
to strike something bigger than yourself and cease.

Unfolding the map 'til you get lost in the crease.
A map to show you which star is yours in that sparkling night sky.
The selfsame star that feels a yearning to race
all the others to the goal of just being noticed.

But ending up only pushing yourself too hard and too far
and burning up in the atmosphere,
when all you have to do is shine.

I'm sorry if I offend anyone.  Just tell me to stop and I will delete anything asked.

Vox Dei

In a word I heard the voice of God.
Not as the word itself but the silence between its' syllables.
In the nothingness, between its' sounds, I felt the limitless expanse of all eternity.
This moment of rest that also held the beat of the Sacred Heart, kept within it the inhale and exhale of the entire living cosmos.
A peace, unimaginable before this moment, enveloped me and helped me see that I was an element of all time and space; inseparable from all creation.
My fear of death and loneliness washed away in the gentle ebb and flow of the tides that now carried me along my destiny.
All forms of conflict within me were transmuted from their heavy solidity to a wistful, airy form and the breath of creation blew them away.
Riding blissful along the breeze I was borne unto a flawless mirror; soft, warm and slightly giving under my feet.
I slowly looked down to my distorted visage and was infinitely amused at its' surreal appearance.  
Kneeling over and reaching to touch the reflected fabric of my nature the surface broke as water would, rippling out into infinity and returning from some unseen shore.
The ever expanding rings of ether swallowed my attention whole and at once I saw the vast and immeasurable domain that laid before me: the place where miracles are born; where Space reaches Infinity; where Man and Woman are One; where it became evident that all matter is part and parcel of the Whole.
The divine interdependence of all things shone through like a shimmering and indestructible web, woven by a skillful and loving hand.
God Him/Herself closed Its' eyes and drifted off to a peaceful repose as I learned of purpose and intent.
Unable to see the mirror from which I was reborn, I soon realized that there was, in essence, no mirror and no 'me' to perceive it.
What has always been and what will always be replaced the hollow core of what 'I' had been.
The ripples that It made now swelled into waves carrying the echoes of love, truth and compassion in the form of words, bringing with them the voice of God.

Along The Way

Along the way I'd ask myself
"Why try so hard when others win with ease?"
"Abandon! Abandon!" came the cry
The reckless reply of the voice I tried to please
"With whomsoever do you contest to play this game called life?
What do you see or think there to be at the journey's finish line?"
"I do not know but only fear an empty, cold embrace.
What angel, beast, or spirit here could calm this shadowed face?"
"All that you shirk and think to shun is uncertainty at best.
Let them do their worst to spoil your fun and put you to the test.
But know that all this goes and even morning suns will set.  
And though this be the truth of all, they never hold regrets."

Thank you for your patience.  I'm done... I think.

An Unmoving Wind

I sit, transfixed    
Unmoving    
Unwanting    
All stillness gathers around me   
And before Mara, the earth bares witness for me too    
   
I   
Am   
Here    
   
She roars her curses and makes her face the blinding sun    
Beating down upon me and evaporating the water in my veins    
I crack and break   
But still,    
through shattered, chapping lips I say    
   
I   
Am   
Here    
   
The Bohdi tree offers me shade    
And Mara grinds her teeth    
Wild-eyed she flays herself of skin    
so that her breasts are mangled    
Bleeding   
And she glares at me, threatening    
Raising her scourge, she swings   
And I whisper placcidly    
   
I    
Am   
Here    
   
The leather hears and unbinds itself   
Her weapon comes undone    
Rabid,   
Spitting venomous reproaches    
She condemns me for my sins    
And demands her judges execute    
a thousand arrow volley arches toward my place    
Deep breath    
And without words    
I say    
   
I   
Am    
Here    
   
The arrows honor their parents    
By becoming the blossoms and colorful leaves    
of the trees from which they were cut    
And fall at my folded feet    
Lotus seated I recieve in deep respect    
Their honor   
And we exchange a delightful greeting    
Mara tears her eyes out so she will not have to see    
The earth itself reiterating for me    
   
I   
Am   
Here    
   
Madness gripped   
Bleeding, spitting, eyeless   
Beating at the frustrated heart within her chest    
Mara implores:    
"What God of Beast and Soil are you?    
What poisoned dagger must I draw?"    
To which I raise my head and smile    
Beaming love from under flesh    
   
"No God," I say,    
"But, within, something more.   
A complex question with a perfect answer.    
Something greater, which even worship cannot defile.    
...    
I    
Am   
Here."    
   
Mara screams and tears her hair out by the handfuls    
as she cooks in her own heat   
Burning in the fire for which she intended me    
   
Eons passed    
My body died and was interred    
Mara came to gloat   
But as she strode she felt the wind    
And a whisper in her ear    
A familiar voice from long ago that said    
   
I Am... 
   
Still...    
   
Here.

hey madman, i am beginning to think you were telling porkies about your reason for pulling outa the slam dunk. too busy to write indeed!!

the lure of the princess

and in the turmoil i glimpsed a heaven
i craved for it and i looked in wonder
the princess beckoned for me to leaven
to rise above the world i had chosen
and in the turmoil i glimpsed a heaven
it ripped my cold steel heart asunder
and in the turmoil i glimpsed a heaven
i craved for it and i looked in wonder

An abandoned blonde lock fell over
her soft hazel-brown eye; she pushed it
out of the way with her pencil
kept reading
open blue notebook
sitting on her knees
as she rests in
lotus position
on her bed with me

her words float lightly; a high
tinny voice, strung together like a necklace
she fashioned last year
unconventional and beautiful, put together
the "wrong" way that sounds right

I imagine my voice, eleven years old
had the same qualities, as our baby pictures
are dopplegangers
and as my daughter reads
from her own poetry book
the flood of words that pour from her soul
and those words paint the walls of the room
I relish in it, realizing
This moment is the closest
I will ever get to heaven.

No scent for cigarettes.  
 
The radio plays  
but the rocking chair sings -  
it's creaking lullaby  
to the birds and the bees  
humming outside an unlatched window.  
Bread's baking in the burnt orange stove,  
red onions boiling in oil on the pan  
and the children run  
up garden steps and in the door  
with muddy boots and simple laughter.  
He smiles behind a crisp newspaper  
and sips brewed coffee from his mug.
Though he hates coffee
she likes the smell.  
Never a chore in summer Sun  
from the eyes of one,
a mother yet lover
and the hummingbirds sing for it.

Thank you!