Poetry
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HOME Everything I think comes not from me but through me I am simply a passenger on the bus of transference
HOME Everything I think comes not from me but through me I am simply a passenger on the bus of transference
WONDER Sitting in these early hours Listening to the etheric whispers of a Native American Flute While the birds praise the morning sun My heart
-SO IT IS- Thought is a construct Made up of impressions, Impressions being experienced in this moment, And impressions that have been stored in memory
TO SPEAK OF LOVE Let us speak of love. I say, “Let Us” speak of love because what created us and what we essentially are
PEACE PRAYER May peace pour over me today Like the the healing waters of life Whose pristine molecules Cleanse the surface discontent Of all that
I AM,THAT, I AM As I stood outside With the early morning sun Lifting its rays upon the land I watched and felt the
ABUNDANCE Abundance is what fills my lungs The breath of life for songs unsung I am the earth I stand upon And find the gifts
❧ YOU ❧ Oh, You Most elusive one Indefinite and subtle ❦ You, who see’s But cannot be seen ❦ You, who experiences But is
THE HORSE-STORY What I realize Is that the real goal about being On this three-dimensional rock Isn’t about dressing up our life (although you can
ALTERNATE REALITIES Remember those times When you were reading A paragraph in a book And when you finished the paragraph You couldn’t remember anything Of