There is a moment before the sound the Great Om,
Before Siva turned on one foot
Before Krishna was blue and Tara green,
Before the making of Lucifer, the heavenly war
The gravity of heaven and the drifting fire of hell
Before the holy breath blew into Man
Before Adam’s dream of Eve
Before Cain lost his mind and the daughters of Cain
And the flood, before an angel spoke to Hagar
And Moses saw a home of honey, fire and blood
Before David hurled a stone
Before Isaiah spoke a word
Before Buddha under the Bodhi-tree
The slaughter of the innocent
The cry of the desert in a voice crying in the desert
Before the sorrow of Mary
Before a nail cut the hand of the Anointed
Before the wonder of Magdalene at the tomb
Before tongues of fire
Before the first stone struck Stephen
Before stigmata in Assisi
Before Allah save infant girls
In a message of mercy from Mohammed
Before Gandhi felt the heat of a gun
And the death of Martin gave an undying dream
There is a moment
Before the memory of time
Offered like sunlight filtered through trees falls at your feet
It is like sound
Or light surrounding the body
A lilting melody of light
Before evil or good were ideas, that when you hear
Clears the past of pain
Reconciles history to love
And the One you felt did not exist
Is with you saying
“I have always loved you and always will.”
It is the still point at the center,
That moment you truly are, that moment is now
It would be a lie to say
I have no sorrow for the dead
I sing to them
To steady heart and head.
Sorrow, a boy forsaken
Sleeps no doubt
In the quiet of my bed
He cannot be mistaken.
Rising to the early light
To torpor I awaken,
I care for him
His Sadness never shaken.
Cold days in ink
I give him voice, the mild
And the meek,
Seldom have a choice.
Sometimes tears are words.
Ghosts follow in gloom
Throughout my home
Looking on lovingly
They crowd the rooms of memory
They do, until we join them too.
Friday 13. 2017
This poem has nothing to do
with Shawn Morrissey being dead.
He’s very much alive & well.
It’s for him because he’s into ghosts, horror, sci fi
and other spooky stuff.
What the hell was I thinking
to a Hell, I keep asking myself
what on Earth
I’m doing here and come up
with the same
and different answers– Heaven
devours itself and then looks
for more to eat
because it is always expanding
Thirsty hungry restless alive…
Sometime before the land turned away from light
The wind in the wild mustard slowed
The sun, being where is always is, the moon too
Twilight and moonrise were in me.
Something small and quick sprang and ran.
The long grass bent as I watched the urge to chase
Corner and kill rise and fall inside me.
A hawk tucked wings, stooped from a great height
Was high in the air again, a ground squirrel in its claws–
The life of a large snake touched me, I watched
From grass to rock, sand on the road to sage
I heard the dry hiss where a lizard whipped out.
The serpent, licking the air with a pronged tongue
Coiled under a cactus tree, sang a warning–
This was no tree of knowledge, the rattler
Untouched by good or evil, is pure, perfectly pure.
I closed my eyes, sound and light opened the third eye
I saw a human face, half gleaming reptilian green
Half clear compassionate blue– There were no words,
No thought, I moved forward and became that face.
If I spoke from the heart and you could hear
You would ride the sound
Back to the beginning and see who you really are.
If I spoke from the heart, my tears would be a river
Running into the sea, an Ocean of sweetest water.
If I spoke from the heart, my joyful laughter
Would fill the universe
And ring the galaxies like a wind chime
If I spoke from the heart, you would hear my voice call
From time past, present and to come
All our wounded children– It would heal them, every last one
And the world, if ever it were, would be whole again.
Photo by Rayn Roberts