The Light Poems
Be A Light
There is a light, which rises to meet the darkness. Amorphous, yet unwavering. It requires of you one thing; to follow.
Leave your fear, your apprehension, your ambivalence and go where it might take you. Deep in the darkest wood, it will bring you to the place where inner and outer meet, and they will know the other as sacred.
Entrust your journey to this light, give it your very soul, and it will guide you safely into surety. Sure of your self, your steps, your mission, you can point others to the path.
Guide the innocent, the disillusioned, the cynical, to that small rim of light at the edge of their darkened vision.
Be a light. Even on those dismal days, when you might wonder if anything means anything. Be a light. A bearer of hope. A messenger of beauty. A bringer of peace.
8/29/2016
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ __ _ _ _ __ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Hidden Words
To make cosmos from chaos is the work of words. Difficult, unenviable work. Never finished, never properly expressed. Exhausting, exhilarating, maddening. Words promise so much yet rarely deliver the entirety of their revelation.
Hidden, as if light has made them shy, some words prefer darkness. Secret even from the poet who would reveal them, if only they could decipher them. “Trust me,” I tell them, and wait for their submission ~ these hidden words which look for wood piles, like a garter snake. No use going after them. They have to come to you. Patience. Softness. God’s immeasurable compassion; each day coax the words a little further out. The exit is the opening.
LBM 4/19/17 for Jim Reeves
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
My Soul is a Star
My soul is a star I discovered in darkness. Awed by her radiance, I kept my distance. So bright and beautiful, I felt unworthy.
My soul stands beside me when I play my clarinet. Stands over me, as I tend the garden. Stands behind me, when I feed the wild swans.
My soul is a lover of light. A keeper of curiosity. A benefactress of beauty. She sparkles, and I delight in her charisma. Charting a course through the vast emptiness, she pulls me into wonder.
My soul shines in the poetry of music. The music of poetry. Silent but ever present. Sensitive. Ineffable. My soul is a tender luminary.
LBM 3/30/2014
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
A Temporary Blindness
We do not see the world as it is. We see it in reflection. Trapped by our limited perception, we see through broken glass.
To quest for clarity is to grapple with illusion. To see the hidden truth and not be fooled by falsehood, is to distinguish oasis from mirage.
If I could have one wish (after the wish for peace), I would wish to see more clearly. To see impeccably. Inscrutably. Inexhaustibly. To see without judgment, preference, or opposition. To see with benevolence and compassion. To see, with the eyes of understanding. To view shortsightedness as a distortion in one’s vision (which eliminates the need to make it personal). To forgive a temporary blindness.
I want to see with astonishing acuity. To master the art of acumen like a sculptor brings a slab of stone to life. To translate vision into form. To shape a subject from the void and give it tangibility. And when the seer becomes the seen, I want to disappear in Beauty.
LBM 10/23/05
