and the fire we seek
is but a reflection
of the fire within us…
when the cross is a part of the body,
and the war we protest,
is the war within us…
when the leaf is known
as always tree…
and the dropp of water
contains a river.
when breath is hunger,
and love is fullness.
when the spirit is a finger,
and the soul is a foot!
when forever is a touch,
and death is a season…
when we speak without words,
and know each other without names!
of a pure heart,unashamed to question,not afraid of the answers,or lack of answers.from the Bible God of youth,to the land of doubt and hope,to an understanding of the Presence,and the calm acceptance of It’s abiding.to a knowingof the formlessbehind the forms,to a seeingof the many facesof God,each validated by love.to a belief,in a love beyond…
ourselves as we can….before we can find the wayand the means to come home.often, somewhere in the seasonsof our living, love is like that.we become so numbed by the struggleto merely exist, that we lose ourintimate connection….we lose our sense of taste, of smell,our very sense of touch…and it is this loss, if we are…
you cannot restrain me,cannot mold me, or shape me.you cannot lead me,for i will not follow!you cannot make mebelieve in your gods.you cannot scare me,cannot break me or make me.you cannot buy or sell me,cannot make me your slave.you cannot tell mewho i am, and am not….bottom line:you dont have anythingi want or need….you dont…
on my gravewhen i’m gone…bring in a preacher,sing a couple old hymns…if it makes you feel better….but my testament,and my only word,lies in the things i’ve done,the things i’ve given,the people i’ve eitherhurt or helped….the things i’ve fought for,win or lose….everything else, just wrappingson an old turtle’s shell….i wont live there anymore….but in everything that…
old hippies turned lippies? ‘‘huh? ‘‘you know,do a lot of talkingabout change,but not much action! ‘kinda makes you thinkabout the way you liveyour life!
we cover the graves, mechanical slaves,never dividing wrong from right.leaving the ghosts of eternityto sweep these dusty floors.by the fire of our own desires,waiting for the knock upon the door.and battered hands never reaching,bridges we never crossed.too drunk with fear to name our tears,too blind to count the loss.only the few who dared to bleed,who…
