Making Shapes

Bending, moulding
Hands expertly guiding
Chiseling, manipulating

He steps back, admiring
Perhaps scrutinizing a little too much
Muscles on bones, joints too tight

Bones on skin, and joint to joint
Pulling, pushing, head cocked to one side
Intently observing

He does not create,
For what is, has been created
The vessel in its glorious perfection
Yet still in need of so much adjustments

The artist is as much the teacher
As the teacher is the artist that inspires
Neither inventing anything new
Only lighting up the road towards truth

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The Great Brick Wall

The great brick wall; resurrected
As with all other things that happens; unexpected
It might just have gone up overnight
But I stand to be corrected

Sadly, sadly there isn’t a door
To which I could walk myself through this wall
Madly, madly it fills the growing silence
That rears its head like a menace

There is paint on this wall, and it’s starting to dry
The layers underneath, in striking yellow, blue, green; so bright
But someone must have thought it was time
To paint it over again, in pure stark white

There is a monk with a paintbrush crying “do not fight it, do not fight!”
Splashing paint and erasing these memories by design
No moons, nor planets nor stars can ever be so aligned
As the hearts and the world that exists in our minds

Surrender

You say with determination “This year,

Will be the year of surrender”

When good things appeared, scanty but bold;

All the arms of Love seems to behold 

Promises of reunion with this gracious soul

You accepted, surrendered as you were told 

Minds were sparked, doors thrown open

The veil that held us apart, no that was not the concern 

Because slowly, and surely this path that you have chosen 

Reveals a bigger promise, royally golden

And so two roads begins to run parallel together

Unlikely, unplanned, oh what does it matter? 

Chain us in balls and shackles, let us be fettered 

If it means growth to the Soul, would that not be for the better? 

It is easier to surrender 

When the gates of the Garden reveals itself to you, even only for a little 

While, and while you are swept in this current 

Know that whatever is given to you will eventually be taken 

Away, it seems like you have been there 

For moments longer than you would care

To count and be accounted for

You have walked through and stayed too long, yet still ask for more

The audacity! Such propensity of ungratefulness

Listen to that voice inside of you whisper in kindness 

“Surrender even when you are hurting;

What is; is, and therefore no struggling” 

Surrender, even when that which has arrived is leaving 

What is; is, the ending is also a new beginning