Category Archives: Poetry

Hemmed in, but I am Free

An Overnight in Champagne, France
April 25, 2014
A few weeks ago on our way back from skiing in The Alps, we made a pitstop in Champagne and spent the night to break up our drive back to England. Ever since I got back from France, my love for wine and especially Champagne has grown incredibly. Whenever I need a bottle of authentic sparkling wine, I search for from Oddbins Champagne Range, for a bottle or two. One of the perks of driving from England to France is that you get to enjoy beautiful places along the the way. An added bonus- I get in my fix for stopping in French gas stations – where else in the world could you order fantastic beef bourguignon at a gas station that tastes just as good as one from a 5 star restaurant at home, red wine included (I’m not kidding!!!)? I am also partial to the fruit snacks (like apple sauce) sold in resealable packages that aren’t marketed towards children like in the states, but to adults! The list goes on…
Anyways, things get a bit more exciting when you venture off the motorway and into lovely countryside towns in rural France. We arrived in Champagne midday and there was only one thing that we all knew we had to do – drink some Champagne! Staying true to Buggy Designs ethos of Think Pink, Live Green, I was in search of organic pink champagne and found my Shangri-La at Drappier.

Shards of Thy Light

The taste of Thy sweetness is more intoxicating than the most ancient wine.
Thy Spirit permeates every drop of this water of life flowing through my veins.
These arteries pulse with Thy bliss, surge with Thy wonder, flow with Thy grace.
Thy kiss brings me to my feet, to my tip toes, yearning for more, chasing Thy scent through the market of worldly delights, into the meadows of Thy nearness.
Under the moonlight of Thy beauty, evanescent glimmers of Thy oneness shine from the leaves and grasses, united in fractured shards of Thy light, whispering, “Welcome home, My Beloved!”

Time is a fire we burn in

Time is a fire we burn in, we breath it in, soak in it, push it out, work it with our hands, fingers, minds. It flows in streams between our temples, out through our pores, connecting all atoms in a dance of transmission, progression in sequence. Time is a pattern of vibration linking one state of being with another, and another, and another, ever forward, onward, even while shining in reverse. Light connects the forward and the backward in the sequence, lighting up the way, and showing where we’ve been. It’s a neutral party to the endless stepping forward of time, even an enabler, a translator from one state to another, brought on by the flow of heat from hot towards cool, steady state, thermal transfer. This is life, caught in an eddy between the lines in the motion of currents of hot magma, the molten rock of existence.

Spring Desires Eternal

I want to see you again.

What should I do about this?  What is this power you have to stir up this little vortex  of longing within me?  I am usually fairly content being alone, all one.  But today, there’s this extra pull, a void of sorts, saying, “Where is she?  Where is she?”  This voice is always here, but yesterday, it was ignorable, and I could go about my business, business as usual.  But today, this desire has sprung up, a fresh a seedling, sprouting its arms above the earth, out of the dirt along the path I walk daily.  Such a beauty, reaching for the sun with its outstretched green hands, and rooting its grey way into the soil.  This desire for life comes suddenly and redefines my experience of this present moment.  This desire for existence, for being.  This is my raison d’être, my reason for being, free.  This IS my being, this fire, this eternal flame.

I perceive this flame is strong in you, fueled by a constant pull of opposites, light of the south, dark of the north, and harmonized by the divine unity present in all of Reality.  This is the “chaos maker” that you try to control, to balance.  Not too much, but please not too little.  It feels so good to  let it spin, to unleash it upon the earth, upon the hearts of men, upon the eyes of all beings, even the stones beneath your feet, and the moon above your head.  This cosmic dipole embedded within your being, is your being, and must be felt to be believed, and then comes a knowing, deeper than any programmed belief can ever hope to achieve.  Feeling this being brings a knowledge of the deepest dark where only the slightest bit of light can reach, and only enough to know, “yes, this is it; this is the reason for being.  This IS being.”

When we gazed into each other’s eyes, what did you see?  After a little eternity, you suddenly looked into the fire, to your left.  Was that in response to a perception of me, a memory, or both, or some other reason to flee?  A penny for your thoughts.  What is the me of which you see?  Did you see through the clouds into the eternity?  Did you find that place where the who, the what, the why, the how, and the when all harmonize into one grand symphony? … and continuously sing, “aaahhh, yes! I am me!  I am free!  I am whom I wish to be!  I am here now!  I am!  I am!  I am!  Aaaaahhhhh, yaaaaaaaaa!”

I hope so.

So anyway, this is all my way of saying thank you for stirring me up!  If I had your number I would call you and say, “please please me and come out and play with me today.  It’s a beautiful day to play!”

Purity, Beauty, and Truth

It’s so hard to stay/be pure, so hard to see the reason why to be pure, whatever that even means…

And then the self awareness of one’s own “purity” is as always a self delusion, which the mind is so good at …

But spirit, like Baba Maal’s voice live in Southampton, is a penetrating powerful force like a sword of golden light piercing the darkness of the auditorium.

What do I mean by being pure? Being true to one’s self, remaining one’s true self in the midst of multiplied opportunities for distraction … dissipation … destruction … the “narrow path,” the path of Truth, (and Beauty?)  It’s been said that Truth is Beauty, and Beauty is Truth.  In pondering this I tread upon a well worn path, in the company of many … and this company is welcome, with joy, in the Truth and the Beauty of the heart.  In pursuit of Beauty .. in the Presence of Beauty … to be bathed in Truth internally makes one beautiful on the outside…

The best present is the Present given from one to one other, another, an other one.  The Present, as communicated in community, communion, through truth and beauty… yes, these are facts, stated simply, like a bureaucrat stating the regulations, only sweeter, but a bit detached … this  voice, this sight .. aloof and yet more personal than any other …

beauty .. truth .. they roll off the mental tongue quite differently – beauty o sweetly, full of Grace, tenderness, warmth, pleasure even. But Truth has a bite, aptly symbolized by the blade, cutting through delusion, illusion, confusion.