Good and Evil

Of the good in you I can speak, but not of the evil. 
For what is evil but good tortured by its own hunger and thirst? 
Verily when good is hungry it seeks food even in dark caves, and when it thirsts, it drinks even of dead waters. 
You are good when you are one with yourself. 
Yet when you are not one with yourself you are not evil. 
For a divided house is not a den of thieves; it is only a divided house. 
And a ship without rudder may wander aimlessly among perilous isles yet sink not to the bottom. 
You are good when you strive to give of yourself. 
Yet you are not evil when you seek gain for yourself. 
For when you strive for gain you are but a root that clings to the earth and sucks at her breast. 
Surely the fruit cannot say to the root, 
"Be like me, ripe and full and ever giving of your abundance." 
For to the fruit giving is a need, as receiving is a need to the root. 
You are good when you are fully awake in your speech, 
Yet you are not evil when you sleep while your tongue staggers without purpose. 
And even stumbling speech may strengthen a weak tongue. 
You are good when you walk to your goal firmly and with bold steps. 
Yet you are not evil when you go thither limping. 
Even those who limp go not backward. 
But you who are strong and swift, see that you do not limp before the lame, deeming it kindness. 
You are good in countless ways, and you are not evil when you are not good, 
You are only loitering and sluggard. 
Pity that the stags cannot teach swiftness to the turtles. 
In your longing for your giant self lies your goodness: and that longing is in all of you. 
But in some of you that longing is a torrent rushing with might to the sea, carrying the secrets of the hillsides and the songs of the forest. 
And in others it is a flat stream that loses itself in angles and bends and lingers before it reaches the shore. 
But let not him who longs much say to him who longs little, "Wherefore are you slow and halting?" 
For the truly good ask not the naked, "
Where is your garment?" nor the houseless,
"What has befallen your house?
Clarity my queen .. Clarity which mean .... Oh..!!

Friendships

Your friend is your needs answered. 
He is your field which you sow with love and reap with thanksgiving. 
And he is your board and your fireside. 
For you come to him with your hunger, and you seek him for peace. 
When your friend speaks his mind you fear not the "nay" in your own mind, nor do you withhold the "ay." 
And when he is silent your heart ceases not to listen to his heart; 
For without words, in friendship, all thoughts, all desires, all expectations are born and shared, with joy that is unacclaimed. 
When you part from your friend, you grieve not; 
For that which you love most in him may be clearer in his absence, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain. 
And let there be no purpose in friendship save the deepening of the spirit. 
For love that seeks aught but the disclosure of its own mystery is not love but a net cast forth: and only the unprofitable is caught. 
And let your best be for your friend. 
If he must know the ebb of your tide, let him know its flood also. 
For what is your friend that you should seek him with hours to kill? 
Seek him always with hours to live. 
For it is his to fill your need, but not your emptiness. 
And in the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures. 
For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed. 
Past wounds

My reason, My Passion

Your soul is oftentimes a battlefield, upon which your reason and your judgment wage war against passion and your appetite. 

Would that I could be the peacemaker in your soul, that I might turn the discord and the rivalry of your elements into oneness and melody. 

But how shall I, unless you yourselves be also the peacemakers, nay, the lovers of all your elements.? 

Your reason and your passion are the rudder and the sails of your seafaring soul. 

If either your sails or our rudder be broken, you can but toss and drift, or else be held at a standstill in mid-seas. 

For reason, ruling alone, is a force confining; 

and passion, unattended, is a flame that burns to its own destruction. 

Therefore let your soul exalt your reason to the height of passion; that it may sing; 

And let it direct your passion with reason, that your passion may live through its own daily resurrection, and like the phoenix rise above its own ashes. 

I would have you consider your judgment and your appetite even as you would two loved guests in your house. 

Surely you would not honor one guest above the other; for he who is more mindful of one loses the love and the faith of both. 

Among the hills, when you sit in the cool shade of the white poplars, sharing the peace and serenity of distant fields and meadows - then let your heart say in silence, "God rests in reason." 

And when the storm comes, and the mighty wind shakes the forest, and thunder and lightning proclaim the majesty of the sky, - then let your heart say in awe, "God moves in passion." 

And since you are a breath In God's sphere, and a leaf in God's forest, you too..

Should rest in reason. And move in passion.

Your Pain was mine.

Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding. 
Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain. 
And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy; 
And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields. 
And you would watch with serenity through the winters; silently my seeds blooming
Much of your pain is self-chosen. 
It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self. 
Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquility: 
For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by the tender hand of the Unseen, 
And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips, has been fashioned of the clay which the Potter has moistened with His own sacred tears.

About love ..O

Love one another, but make not a bond of love.
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.
Fill each other's cup, but drink not from one cup.
Give one another of your bread, but eat not from the same loaf.
Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone.

Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.
Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping.
For only the hand of life can contain your hearts.
And stand together, yet not too near together.
For the pillars of the temple stand apart.
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow.

Tears and laughter

As the Sun withdrew his rays from the garden, and the moon threw cushioned beams upon the flowers, I sat under the trees pondering upon the phenomena of the atmosphere, looking through the branches at the strewn stars which glittered like chips of silver upon a blue carpet; and I could hear from a distance the agitated murmur of the rivulet singing its way briskly into the valley. 
When the birds took shelter among the boughs, and the flowers folded their petals, and tremendous silence descended, I heard a rustle of feet though the grass. I took heed and saw a young couple approaching my arbor. The say under a tree where I could see them without being seen. 
After he looked about in every direction, I heard the ..
Young man saying,
"Sit by me, my beloved, and listen to my heart; smile, for your happiness is a symbol of our future; be merry, for the sparkling days rejoice with us. 
My soul is warning me of the doubt in your heart, for doubt in love is a sin. "Soon you will be the owner of this vast land, lighted by this beautiful moon; soon you will be the mistress of my palace, and all the servants and maids will obey your commands. 
"Smile, my beloved, like the gold smiles from my father's coffers. 
"My heart refuses to deny you its secret. Twelve months of comfort and travel await us; for a year we will spend my father's gold at the blue lakes of USA, and viewing the Pyramids in Egypt, and resting under the Holy Cedars of Lebanon; you will meet the princesses who will envy you for your jewels and clothes. "All these things I will do for you; will you be satisfied?" 

In a little while I saw them walking and stepping on flowers as the rich step upon the hearts of the poor. As they disappeared from my sight, I commenced to make comparison between love and money, and to analyze their position in the heart. 
"Money....!
The source of insincere love;
The spring of false light and fortune; 
The well of poisoned water; 
The desperation of old age! 

I was still wandering in the vast desert of contemplation when a forlorn and specter-like couple passed by me and sat on the grass; a young man and a young woman who had left their farming shacks in the nearby fields for this cool and solitary place. 
After a few moments of complete silence, I heard the following words uttered with sighs from weather-bitten lips, 
"Shed not tears, my beloved; love that opens our eyes and enslaves our hearts can give us the blessing of patience. Be consoled in our delay our delay, for we have taken an oath and entered Love's shrine; for our love will ever grow in adversity; for it is in Love's name that we are suffering the obstacles of poverty and the sharpness of misery and the emptiness of separation. I shall attack these hardships until I triumph and place in your hands a strength that will help over all things to complete the journey of our life. 
"Love - which is God - will consider our sighs and tears as incense burned at His altar and He will reward us with fortitude. Good-bye, my beloved; I must leave before the heartening moon vanishes."
A pure voice, combined of the consuming flame of love, and the hopeless bitterness of longing and the resolved sweetness of patience, said, "Good-bye, my beloved." 

They separated, and the elegy to their union was smothered by the wails of my crying heart. 
I looked upon slumbering Nature, and with deep reflection discovered the reality of a vast and infinite thing.. 
Something no power could demand, influence acquire, nor riches purchase. Nor could it be effaced by the tears of time or deadened by sorrow; 
A thing which cannot be discovered by the blue lakes of USA or the beautiful View to Pyramids. 
It is something that gathers strength with patience, 
grows despite obstacles, warms in winter, 
flourishes in spring, 
casts a breeze in summer, 
and bears fruit in autumn, 
I found Love, I found ..you. 

Other desires

Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself 
But if your love and must needs have desires, 
Let these be your desires: To melt and be like a running brook 
That sings its melody to the night. 
To know the pain of too much tenderness. 
To be wounded by your own understanding of love; 
And to bleed willingly and joyfully. 
To wake at dawn with a winged heart 
And give thanks for another day of loving; 
To rest at the moon hour and meditate love's ecstasy; 
To return home at eventide with gratitude; 
And then to sleep with a prayer 
For the beloved in your heart 
And a song of "only you can love me this way" upon your lips. 
Now silently repeat after me ..
I fall, I rise, I make mistakes, I have been hurt,
But i'm a human
I live, I learn, i'm not perfect
But I'll always be .. Thankful
And let me sex your mind.

Houses

Build of your imaginings a bower in the wilderness ere you build a house within the city walls. 
For even as you have home-comings in your twilight, so has the wanderer in you, the ever distant and alone. 
Your house is your larger body. 
It grows in the sun and sleeps in the stillness of the night; and it is not dreamless. 
Does not your house dream? And dreaming, leave the city for grove or hilltop? 
Would that I could gather your houses into my hand, and like a sower scatter them in forest and meadow. 
Would the valleys were your streets, and the green paths your alleys, that you might seek one another through vineyards, and come with the fragrance of the earth in your garments. 
But these things are not yet to be. 
In their fear your forefathers gathered you too near together. And that fear shall endure a little longer. A little longer shall your city walls separate your hearths from your fields. 
And tell me, people of cities, what have you in these houses? And what is it you guard with fastened doors? 
Have you peace, the quiet urge that reveals your power? 
Have you remembrances, the glimmering arches that span the summits of the mind? 
Have you beauty, that leads the heart from things fashioned of wood and stone to the holy mountain? 
Tell me, have you these in your houses? 
Or have you only comfort, and the lust for comfort, that stealth things that enters the house a guest, and becomes a host, and then a master? 
Ay, and it becomes a tamer, and with hook and scourge makes puppets of your larger desires. 
Though its hands are silken, its heart is of iron. 
It lulls you to sleep only to stand by your bed and jeer at the dignity of the flesh. 
It makes mock of your sound senses, and lays them in thistledown like fragile vessels. 
Verily the lust for comfort murders the passion of the soul, and then walks grinning in the funeral. 
But you, children of space, you restless in rest, you shall not be trapped nor tamed. 
Your house shall be not an anchor but a mast. 
It shall not be a glistening film that covers a wound, but an eyelid that guards the eye. 
You shall not fold your wings that you may pass through doors, nor bend your heads that they strike not against a ceiling, nor fear to breathe lest walls should crack and fall down. 
You shall not dwell in tombs made by the dead for the living. 
And though of magnificence and splendoor, your house shall not hold your secret nor shelter your longing. 
For that which is boundless in you abides in the mansion of the sky, whose door is the morning mist, and whose windows are the songs and the silences of night. 

My freedom and your loyalty

At the city gate and by your fireside I have seen you prostrate yourself and worship your own freedom, 
Even as slaves humble themselves before a tyrant and praise him though he slays them. 
Ay, in the grove of the temple and in the shadow of the citadel I have seen the freest among you wear their freedom as a yoke and a handcuff. 
And my heart bled within me; for you can only be free when even the desire of seeking freedom becomes a harness to you, and when you cease to speak of freedom as a goal and a fulfillment. 
You shall be free indeed when your days are not without a care nor your nights without a want and a grief, 
But rather when these things girdle your life and yet you rise above them naked and unbound. 
And how shall you rise beyond your days and nights unless you break the chains which you at the dawn of your understanding have fastened around your noon hour? 
In truth that which you call freedom is the strongest of these chains, though its links glitter in the sun and dazzle the eyes. 
And what is it but fragments of your own self you would discard that you may become free? 
If it is an unjust law you would abolish, that law was written with your own hand upon your own forehead. 
You cannot erase it by burning your law books nor by washing the foreheads of your judges, though you pour the sea upon them. 
And if it is a despot you would dethrone, see first that his throne erected within you is destroyed. 
For how can a tyrant rule the free and the proud, but for a tyranny in their own freedom and a shame in their won pride? 
And if it is a care you would cast off, that care has been chosen by you rather than imposed upon you.
And if it is a fear you would dispel, the seat of that fear is in your heart and not in the hand of the feared. 
Verily all things move within your being in constant half embrace, the desired and the dreaded, the repugnant and the cherished, the pursued and that which you would escape. 
These things move within you as lights and shadows in pairs that cling. 
And when the shadow fades and is no more, the light that lingers becomes a shadow to another light. 
And thus your freedom when it loses its fetters becomes itself the fetter of a greater freedom

Crime and Punishment

It is when your spirit goes wandering upon the wind, 
That you, alone and unguarded, commit a wrong unto others and therefore unto yourself. 
And for that wrong committed must you knock and wait a while unheeded at the gate of the blessed. 
Like the ocean is your god-self; 
It remains for ever undefiled. 
And like the ether it lifts but the winged. 
Even like the sun is your god-self; 
It knows not the ways of the mole nor seeks it the holes of the serpent. 
But your god-self does not dwell alone in your being. 
Much in you is still man, and much in you is not yet man, 
But a shapeless pigmy that walks asleep in the mist searching for its own awakening. 
And of the man in you would I now speak. 
For it is he and not your god-self nor the pigmy in the mist, that knows crime and the punishment of crime. 
Oftentimes have I heard you speak of one who commits a wrong as though he were not one of you, but a stranger unto you and an intruder upon your world. 
But I say that even as the holy and the righteous cannot rise beyond the highest which is in each one of you, 
So the wicked and the weak cannot fall lower than the lowest which is in you also. 
And as a single leaf turns not yellow but with the silent knowledge of the whole tree, 
So the wrong-doer cannot do wrong without the hidden will of you all. 
Like a procession you walk together towards your god-self. 
You are the way and the wayfarers. 
And when one of you falls down he falls for those behind him, a caution against the stumbling stone. 
Ay, and he falls for those ahead of him, who though faster and surer of foot, yet removed not the stumbling stone. 
And this also, though the word lie heavy upon your hearts 
The murdered is not unaccountable for his own murder, 
And the robbed is not blameless in being robbed. 
The righteous is not innocent of the deeds of the wicked, 
And the white-handed is not clean in the doings of the felon. 
Yea, the guilty is oftentimes the victim of the injured, 
And still more often the condemned is the burden-bearer for the guiltless and unblamed. 
You cannot separate the just from the unjust and the good from the wicked; 
For they stand together before the face of the sun even as the black thread and the white are woven together. 
And when the black thread breaks, the weaver shall look into the whole cloth, and he shall examine the loom also. 
If any of you would bring judgment the unfaithful wife, 
Let him also weight the heart of her husband in scales, and measure his soul with measurements. 
And let him who would lash the offender look unto the spirit of the offended. 
And if any of you would punish in the name of righteousness and lay the ax unto the evil tree, let him see to its roots; 
And verily he will find the roots of the good and the bad, the fruitful and the fruitless, all entwined together in the silent heart of the earth. 
And you judges who would be just, 
What judgment pronounce you upon him who though honest in the flesh yet is a thief in spirit? 
What penalty lay you upon him who slays in the flesh yet is himself slain in the spirit? 
And how prosecute you him who in action is a deceiver and an oppressor, 
Yet who also is aggrieved and outraged? 
And how shall you punish those whose remorse is already greater than their misdeeds? 
Is not remorse the justice which is administered by that very law which you would fain serve? 
Yet you cannot lay remorse upon the innocent nor lift it from the heart of the guilty. 
Unbidden shall it call in the night, that men may wake and gaze upon themselves. 
And you who would understand justice, how shall you unless you look upon all deeds in the fullness of light? 
Only then shall you know that the erect and the fallen are but one man standing in twilight between the night of his pigmy-self and the day of his god-self, 
And that the corner-stone of the temple is not higher than the lowest stone in its foundation. 

Speak about clothe's Clothes

Your clothes conceal much of your beauty, yet they hide not the beautiful... no more 
And though you seek in garments the freedom of privacy you may find in them a harness and a chain. 
Would that you could meet the sun and the wind with more of your skin and less of your raiment, 
For the breath of life is in the sunlight and the hand of life is in the wind. 
Some of you say, "It is the north wind who has woven the clothes to wear." 
But shame was his loom, and the softening of the sinews was his thread. 
And when his work was done he laughed in the forest. 
Forget not that modesty is for a shield against the eye of the unclean. 
And when the unclean shall be no more, what were modesty but a fetter and a fouling of the mind? 
And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair. 

What Faith Can Do ？

387 days, 21 hours, 45 min.

Tears to tears we'll draw the line
Years to years our love will shine

Vanishing point

in perspective, parallel lines appear 
to converge, distant objects appear to 
be smaller, closer objects are more distinct. 
in linear perspective things disappear. 
they don't really disappear, parallel 
lines don't really converge. they stay apart, 
forever at a distance and never 
do touch. they stare forever at each other, 
clearly and distinctly, no matter how far 
from the eye they get. an observer 
gets it all wrong, lacks perspective. 
using perspective, we try to understand 
and get it wrong anyway. things seem 
to converge and disappear. they go on. 

Gets lean

Thinner and thinner
The world gets lean by day.
You gobble too much space! 
So like the vanishing universe 
Empty is the box of your brain 

There's Nothing else to do

There is nothing more satisfying, 
Than to be depicted as a fool...
By those who have accepted, 
Their unconditional training...
Promoting the act of mindlessness.
To leave one eventually feeling, 
How pointless it is to express regret.
And observing this free promotion, 
Without it being solicited...
Has to be a relief to those aware, 
How cost effective this has been...
In the savings done to market without effort, 
Such visible and achieved effects...
Affecting successfully the lives of those, 
Ripping themselves apart.
In the expediating done of their own demise.
There are those who sit, 
Enjoying every moment of this.

Life

A good book is the precious lifeblood of a master spirit, embalmed and treasured up on purpose to a life beyond life.

Unfinished .. Yet

And when some of the butterflies come fluttering

over my sweet scented jasmines in my lovely garden

i look for the sunlight from the colossal sun

and the enlightenment from the great Pan

and ask what is there left for me to do

the right solution, so i may not be also blue 

shall i hide my nectar inside my sepal

or shall i open more the colors of my petal

or shall i choose but be one brittle metal? 

a caterpillar, younger sister of the butterflies

intervenes upon a feast on one of my leaves says: 

hey you, don't be a crab? open up, spread your petals, 

go grab the fluttering wings, these are the lonely ones!

not the one without a cent in his pocket

not the one without a potato on their table

not the one who lost his house to fire

not the one who lost his parents in the war

not the one who did not finish his education

not the one without a job

the poorest of them all is the one without hope to complete

The saddest of them all is the one with a dream unfinished .. Yet

Your Sin ..

the soul contains many qualities
The character of man and his vagaries
But the most important quality of man
is the power to forgive a sin
earth is a world of ups and downs

it brings joy and it brings frowns
but life on earth teaches an important thing
It's the power to forgive a sin
as age goes by, as time races on
as generations die and new ones are born
if you ever learn the last thing,
it should be .. the power to forgive a sin.
i was designed to never forget a thing.
i was designed to never forgive a sin.

 

SH.S

Why should i be here ?

again this is just an outpouring of rain
all my loneliness dropping like rain
all my sadness dripping like rain

again, this is nothing about anthologies
or who gets the Poet of the Month thing in any community magazine
this is rain outpouring
this is a form of therapy
on everyday malady
nothing about art or musing
when tomorrow rains again
i will be here..
when sunshine comes and flowers bloom in the field
when my beloved sings and sleeps with me in bed
why should i be here .. .?

The younger me

Younger then, older now
It's so funny how
When I was three, I always thought
That it would take forever for me 
To be forty
But here I am
Standing tall
Looking back on it all
Time flies
Most people don't realize it
But it does, yes it does
I remember when
I wore nothing
They were so pretty, so shiny, and yet
Now I've outgrown them
They're too small
Now here I am
Sitting, writing out of my head
The thoughts, the words of the past
The younger me
Thinking of way I used to be
You know
Times were different back then
Everything was cheaper, nicer
When I was a kid
Now people today
They take stuff for granted
Nobody appreciates anything anymore
Everyone throws everything away
Like it was never there
Memories, sweet, sweet memories
Are overcoming me
Like an eternal flame
It would be nice if I
Could just travel back in time
And just be the younger me 

Egonesty

Like the cold steel blades of winter rain
Like the beam of warmth on a summer lane
In ways you could explain
I descend upon you
Even the chosen few
I caress the anvil with a lover's touch
I exude an image and appear as such
If the truth be known it cuts
To the bone
I stand alone
I know love and recognize 
The inevitable compromise
I choose to walk the shining path
And accept the possible aftermath
You may ponder and judge and you might understand
This single entity
This one man band
And howsoever I meet my fate
I can't complain, there's no debate
I don't want caffeine free
Stimuli sit well with me
Still I grow, still I evolve
With a singular resolve
One life is all you get
With tests and goals we are beset
Don't let it end with regret
i live it .. i love it.

Enlightenment

Lightning strikes deeply

storming the inner core roots

changing the tree's shape 

Enlightenment . !

Are we moving to a higher plane

To better understand our name

The same we call our divinity

Creation aspiring to be creator

Not aware we already are. !

Enlightenment, At last!

Watching the streets outside, which seems 
Running into the infinity, 
I lay on my bed near the window, 
Enjoying the cold breeze wafting in, 
Fondling my wrinkles, gifted by time.
Today the street is deserted where
Once with tiny legs I learned to walk.
Later I walked with the Giants; 
Conquering everything before me
Destroying everything that resisted me.
I had, at last, an empire of mine
Which I ruled with a raised sword.
World called me Champion, 
History called me Great and to myself
I was greater than the great.
But those hands that conquered the world, 
Failed to win the battle with time, 
When my sword proved heavier for my hands, 
I had to leave that throne and crown
Now I see dust rising again, 
Drums beating, a battle again
O young men, please lend your ears, 
Its not me but the history speaking
When you fight hard to build an empire
Remember no empire has lasted forever.
I know you won’t hear me, as I didn't
But one day you will know it, as I did.
And now when my spirit is struggling 
To leave this world and its hardships, 
My destiny still whispers to me cruelly
The time is not yet… Not Yet!

Last and wait

Starting in the eyes, the dreams
end underfoot, 
there the river lies still without the bridge.
It'd take centuries to build the muddy path
walking with the air and wind; 
Time goes beyond me
And I am the solitary voyager
far behind you; 
Holding on to the residual stores
of my life, 
I wait for the moment standing
on the farthest point of the expansion
when the universe shrinks back.
The shadow of the night gets
terrified seeing the pointed
flame of the lamp.
The pavilion of the sky looks small, and
the light is more abundant than my heart.
But, the distances
are not longer than the
circles of the dreams; 
In the divine seasons
when the stars blossom
like flowers; and
the butterflies flit around
the sun-fire, then
your moon like phizog
will appear on the
branches of the eternal dusk
If you have the spirit
to last and wait, 
then, with a new pact
of the rudiments
I will come for you! 

White rose story

When the stony silence
Becomes a shadow
Of internal monologues
And loneliness peeps out
Of door apertures....
Don't write a word! 
When evening
Heavy with sorrow
Descends from the roof-tops
Sterile scenes play hide and seek
On paths coming from afar
And eyes placed on cornices
Gather dust of dreams....
Don't write a word! 
When letters that spell
Yours name and my name
Get moth-eaten
And words suffocate to death
In closeted books of our lives
A story
You ought to write then
Without a word in it! 

You need the Key ..!!

We’re all in one, and one the same, 
Nothing more and nothing less, 
Life is nothing but a test, 

Temptations of the flesh devour
Our souls when we're always asking,
Wanting for more. appreciation is the key,
The way to set the daemon free,
And love, love will always find a way,
Madness ensues, chaos pursues,
Your heart lies broken,
With every promise you ever made
The foundations laid,
Your dues are paid
You've made the decisions you have made.
Now what is left for this old soul ?
Slipping into the void.
winner or loser .. in my life dictionary
Appreciation is the key,