...souls are thirsty,
at gradation, traveling mystic planets: so dead at times, such sorrowing cries,
redeemed in an instance: trekking Jesus, removed in silence, at Jewish
cleanness: reborn in samsara, cleaving
to ideals, our lives given over to conceptions: but something chimes, those
interior traits, as outward behaviors: planted in compassion, at wars with
wickedness, informed through service: such poverty, internal and external,
while witnessing something too simplistic: it raises an eye, it reeks of
violence, it proves detrimental: such self-harm, within a passive palace, where
both scientists and religious are watching: so drawn and introverted, so casual
and nonchalant, so calm and restricted: others scream at us, they feel
excluded, they gander, distress, and pass assessments: (this world
completeness, those mechanistic needs, roaming this jungle of strategists:
accused of favor, placed in dungeons,
while our days are chiseling walls: such mystic frustration, such yogic
experience, or too skilled to see: our women winning, willing to participate,
while owning reality: our men re-geared, in need of cosmic bolts, while
winning, nonetheless: so frightened of responsibility, framed by souls, or
positioned at a helm without consultation: those gut battles, those intricate
occurrences, so frightened our children might fail): our edgy daughters, our
masculine sons, while we teach them to submit: this tetras by shades, our
classifications, where mestizo means
mixed-emotions—so filled with angst, so deathly uncertain, while we must
instruct: plus, this addict universe, trying desperately to take cover, but
Little Jenny is quite intuitive: at genetic wars, a bit apologetic, where
aliens wish to thrash us: at cookery, at restaurant kitchens, at island
gardens: looking to space, or watching television, where parents are difficult
to locate: (so mystic at moments, so detached at seconds, or so calm its eerie:
at mind-cliffs, so actualized, so psychological: a feeling awry, a psych
flying, or an old mistake mourning: reexamining upholstery, unknitting
behaviors, or crocheting distance: needing to instruct, needing to flame
forward, but held hostage by old behaviors: so unlearned, running through
graphics, attempting to re-hexagram this map: so yogic at raja-intuition, such a new, delicate, forceful creature: running
into Bhakti, but too masculine to
continue, but too afraid to witness its metamorphoses: so cold this river, so
long this highway, so drenched in utter remorse): but let’s examine things, in
this mixed-matched cosmos: either we submit, or live a bit lonely: one destroys
spirit, another altars spirit, but our latter fills us with those meanings by
blueprints: (I vie for neither—in this conglomerate of kingdoms, but serious
reflection takes about a decade: as casual christic creatures, or Buddhists
instructors, or Taoists and Zenists and Sufis: our Muslim sisters, our Mason
brothers, so charmed to have met: as mystic exospheres, or numen pardons, so alert to something traveling: this deep
realization, this interior lieutenant, while conversing unknowingly with
angels: such intelligence, this subtle question, where we understand in parts):
those power forces, those restored beings,
while so involved life is hard to resist….
Keys Elements
...compassion is eternal, it gives life, it becomes
psychological energy: intelligence doesn’t connote smartness, it speaks to
intuition, brains prepared and able to zip with zest: wisdom speaks seldom, it
behaves by example, it appears where it is not noticed: knowledge is fire, it
replaces ignorance, this lack of understanding: it flies into battle, it
questions more than it salutes, it demonstrates upon premises: understanding is
a sad enterprise, it waters eyes, it sees pain in a place perceived as joyous:
reasoning builds solutions, it talks in clarity, it appeals to intuition: (a
certain temperament is required, as noticed in human behaviors, while one must
be sensitive to those happenings): experience is subtle, it requires an inner
investigator, this watchful sage: it speaks internally, it points to repeated
situations, where something new is examined: reflection is simultaneous with
intuition, those gray lines, while all carry this tension in intolerance: (we
must investigate, we must pause, while mastery pushes one into a dungeon): our
monk cousins, our mystic hermits, our unresolved sensei(s): those wilderness
shamans, our samurai warriors, or those Indian swamis: as relocated souls,
those deeper needs, while forced to reassess second to increments….
