Category Archives: Poetry

Making Shapes

Standard

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

The Great Brick Wall

Standard

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

Standard
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 

One day You will teach me to let go of my fears

Standard

To stand with ease
In uncertainty
To accept the longing
Of comfort without security

To surrender completely
Into Your arms
Let time stand still in eternity

It does not matter
If the union of energy
Across the cosmos
Will cause an explosion of pleasure

It does not matter
If I am worshipped on a golden pedestal

It does not matter
If this life afford me nothing more than today

And if the fear of growing old;
In the company of no other but myself
Becomes unbearable
You will teach me to let go of my fears

To fall in to the unknown
Or bend backwards reaching out
Towards the ground that I cannot yet see
With strong feet and and an open heart
And a knowing that You will be there
To catch me

And all of this will eventually amount to nothing
Because it does not matter
For no man can transcend
The completion of Your embrace

I am

Standard

I am with you in every breath
Every thought of every single man

I am, I am, I am
I am with you in the whisper of the wind
Softly whistling into your ears
Je suis, je suis, je suis 
 
I am in every streak of the red burning sun
I am the tears from across the split broken sky
I am the pain in every desires of your heart
I am in the sound of every running brook that joins the sea
Wo shi, wo shi, wo shi 
 
And I am the silence which exists eternally within you.
I am that.

“Can you love what you do not know?”

Standard

I shall ask these questions 
As if they were mine 
“What is this faith?”
Or “who is the Divine?”

I will ask these questions 
Which resides in every breath
“Whose words were these?”
And “who dictates our death?”

All of these questions shall I ask 
So that I may know every corner of my heart 
My own beating heart 
To understand surrender 
And loving the unknown 

And soon the question shall be less of 
“Can you love what you do not know?”
But rather …

“What more is there to love?”