"Poetry is an act of peace. Peace goes into the making of a poet as flour goes into the making of bread." - Pablo Neruda
A poetic soul plumbs the depths of realms seen and unseen. Some poets - perhaps the present day bards, ovates, druidesses - take the next leap, midwifery. Nurturing that pregnant moon into the birth of a luna piena by the sheer certainty, unwavering clarity of a waxing moon stitched into their belly and heart. (This sometimes goes by the name in law minded circles as the "law of attraction".)
Really, like Neruda says it comes from inner peace radiating outwards whether spilling towards words on paper, or knock on wood masterpieces of matter.
“Wishes are recollections coming from the future.” – Rainer Maria Rilke (hmmm, truer words have never been spoken as past-present-future collide into Now, as one takes a bird's eye view of Time)
So I may sprinkle some insights here and there throughout this Beyond "The Secret" series into the poetics of soul and matter since (so-called) miracles and joy magnetize in equal proportions to the clarity and bouyancy of your vision(s).
"Where
there is no vision, the people perish." - Proverbs 29:18
Myself, my growth spurts along with my muses, my sacred mirrors, my soul friends. As I shared in previous post, this small cadre, circle, moai, supports each other. But more than anything we are quickening each other to greater and clearer heights through our overflowing love for each other and the world at large.
"The intuitive mind is a sacred gift and the rational mind is a
faithful servant. We have created a society that honors the servant and
has forgotten the gift." - Albert Einstein
I'd like to share some examples of how this poetic friendship can be most precious gift, particularly in a culture that has more TV sets than intimate friends.
Trust me, some of us have seen through our surrender to the Creatrix where This may all unfurled-unfurl-unfurling, and where we're headed jointly: the future quite luminous and numinous. Yet none lives in the future. We're blessed each and every moment by Presence, enveloped by, never necessitating, each other's presence.
Don't get me wrong, we still have our share of doubts and disasters, but we're there, and there for each other whilst vitally alive for every dip and lurch of the Roller Coaster.
So a friend texts me and asks what I'm up yesterday evening...
I am inhaling life and sunrays and dandelions, why?
If u breath deeply alday u get very high.
If u just allow sky to pervade thru the hollow body too
Turn ourselvs into fun nels.
[And with that entry-way, we start jamming... I'm sharing only a few snippets of the deep rush of fingers scurrying across quixotic keyboard at the park during sunset imbibing the silky wind, the awen...
"The smell of ink is intoxicating to me, others may have wine, but I have poetry." - Abbe Yeux-Verdi ]
Sacred vessel, musical instrument, and canvas for light and sound to splay splash painted rainbows and harpisodic fountains
Pure transparent diamond.
Floating swirling opalescent seamless boundariless mercurial bubbles of milky light
Pillars of sunlight heaven to earth to heaven
Liquid raindrops in pools of ocean whalesong reverberates
Rippling feathers beating rhythm of petals and juneteenth breezes
Enamored by silhouettes of flapping bird wings across sunset golds
Sometimes feels like magnolia sweeps down, bows and takes my hand to present its perfume right close to me
Ur a tree lover
Oh more flagrant than that...gaia lover...just lover lover
In an IM last week I learn another muse (recollections of a faun) shares my vision for the future of 'transportation' - and much more:
12:43 PM our true nature is without definition
me: Mystery, unfathomable Mystery
12:44 PM faun: curiosity is thankfulness upons its own quest of questions
12:45 PM egad, wishing ever so recently to perfect the buddha body of perfect resource
or in otherwords the imaginary sphere of self transportation
me: curiousity is everything
what do you mean?
faun: have you seen fantastic planet?
12:46 PM me: no
faun: ninteen seventies french animated psychedelic film
me: oh, sounds interesting, do they fly, bilocate
faun: hmm
12:47 PM whilst meditating > light bodies translocate within floating spheres
the world may be greener if so
a wish of mine to escape the solitary confinement of the automobile
12:48 PM of course, flying is also enjoyable..
12:49 PM me:
i was hinting at light bodies actually, and i think it's possible to
shapeshift too into something more dense, then fly with dragonfly wings
perhaps ;-) on a whimsical day that tis
12:50 PM faun: oh how the dragon fly inspires
fine eyes
me:
taking a blurb I wrote a few months ago...This would be the year I'd
have enough money to get that Bentley Azure. Manufacturer's Suggested
Retail Price: $329,990.
Now why on earth is it my heart's desire
to have a Bentley Azure? Is it because the convertible evokes freedom
and adventure and elegance and outrageous abundance? I totally respect
its audacious boldness.
But own a car, no not really my heart's will.
The
actual deepest depth of truth is this is for me: I am devoted to
walking and wandering and roving and stumbling across hidden valleys
and alleys and flowerpots and street corners and graffiti and flyers
tacked onto light poles. I adore tumbling and racing downhill like a
creek surrounded by fern covered hills and gurgling by cougars and
coyotes and cactus and wild oats. I want to cavort in the nether realms
with angels and faeries and tree spirits and wizards. I adore the deja
vu of sitting next to strangers on trains and subways and busses. And
to walk through walls, skate on water, bilocate and time travel and fly
across the sky (with better aim than Icarus) and glide across galaxies
and beam me up Scotty!
And no I'm not settling for a mere car anymore.
oops, hit send early, that was blurb from a blog post... thougth it would be too out there if i mention light bodies
12:52 PM faun: beauty
kids play in light
my eye twinkles and skirts across the periphery
is this happening?
12:53 PM two thousand seven
this story is, nevertheles, will endlessly write, unveil.
12:54 PM enthusiasm & excitement
sing
me: singing and laughing is sufficient
complete
exuberance
12:55 PM faun: people ask why so often laughter is my expression, life is humorous
me: divine comedy
hindus call leela, gods at play
12:57 PM strange, not so strange, i feel your Presence right here
faun: deities were present, switzerland, january 11th, 2006, 100th birthday of doc. albert hoffman
you are simply smiling immortal light
me: i know
12:58 PM who is dr hoffman?
faun: discoverer of lsd, psychonaut nonetheless
12:59 PM me: ah, i was glancing - harder time reading of late - at book 2012: Return of Quetzalcoatl last night
mention of ayahuasca, the church "santo daime" in brazilian amazon
tho i've never done drugs, i'm trippy enough
1:00 PM faun: naturally the amazon beckons
briefly researched certain tribes, mythology of the peruvian forests
1:01 PM telling of synaesthetic language (hear colors, etc.)
me: hhhmmm, thought of peru too
faun: vegetable plant goddess
serpent like creation myth
1:02 PM me: i had a teacher in new orleans, she has had 'overlaps' (?) into 5D, she mentions more colors, maybe 80? too
1:03 PM faun: awe
experienced spherical vision
yet 5d is nonetheless a mystery
[edited out part of discussion here]
faun: thinking to have read that in zen keys, a book by Thich Nhat Hanh
me: now that i think of it, the people i met in nola that had 'bled' into 5d, all artists
1:10 PM faun: the source also of alex grey?
me: what do you mean source?
faun: good question
perhaps a better word would be 'home'
1:11 PM me: oh, maybe, i just noting they were visual artists plus being energy workers yada yada
faun: interesting
1:12 PM breathe, lifetimes within lifetimes, bookmarks, bridges, doors, breathe.
me: my friend told me it was painting - the process of surrendering to - that 'helped' him awake
1:13 PM faun: reminds me of experimenting with written mantra, continuously writing the mantra until the words form image
1:14 PM me:
hmm, never tried that, i don't consider myself visually gifted, but yet
i see things in vision, and then try to use words to convey rather than
paint
1:15 PM faun: in your elvish ways you an ever so gifted artist
1:16 PM color is
1:17 PM me:
thank you...meant i have at least 1% chance of conveying beauty i've
seen through words, almost none if i tried to paint/draw it, and yet
nothing can really do it justice, it's that moment and it cannot be
pinned down like butterfly cant
1:18 PM faun: free to be
me: love color love all the senses i love touching flowers and bark
1:19 PM faun: let leaves tickle a skull walking beneath, love to sit lotus above roots
muses whisper emotions disguised as words
1:22 PM me:
ah, i was once mad at words for being so slippery and language
separating from Reality yet now they are also fun to play with in sound
and texture and turning it over like a mossy stone in your hand
1:25 PM faun: poetry loves subconscious..
refreshing to think about water. and also the dreams which delved into a literary level not applicable to this abridged world
remembering ..
me: subconscious, call it The Well
1:26 PM a reservoir infinite
faun: the attic
library behind the revolving bookshelf, spiral staircase, descend into the philosophical dwelling & think about thinking
1:27 PM me:
ha, interesting idea, last year when i sat down with tea & toast to
write for 40 days, whoa, had no idea where that process would do to one
1:28 PM faun: si belle cette idée cette vie
me: mostly wrote in my neighborhood, in my garden, the redwood grove (small consolation for living in surburbia) near
faun: ascetic esoteric
hocus pocus
flowering lotus
1:29 PM me: hocus pocus hmmm
i dwelled in the garden of Eden truly and
faun: would you ever seek a vision quest?
me: wherever the Song of Songs is written
faun: you already have..
me: and in Renaissance Italy
and i went to all sorts of places i had no idea i already knew
1:30 PM seek a vision quest? hmm, it seems like an everyday occurence
[and more poetry unfurls...]
p.s. Just joined Twitter... Inviting ya into my Twitter twibe...mainly thinking to use with text
messages more than online (too beautiful summer to be indoors on
laptops)..so we can keep in touch with the spontaneous poetry weaving
through our lives. Blessings, E
images Cosmic Ice Cream, by Gil Mellé (yum poetry in color); Dreamscape, at Keith's Fractal Images (ethereal Otherworld fractal art); not sure who is the artist to thank for this scrumptious winged poetess, found via the enchantress via the delightful magick blog, Blogickal. Along with the art, came these musings from poet, Langston Hughes:
Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
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