Keeper of Secrets

You are the keeper of my secrets
that have been whispered in the dead
of night when no one else would
hear. I’ve turned my eyes to you,
my Benevolent Mother, for the
safety I’ve never felt elsewhere.
You’ve never betrayed me and have
never looked at me with reproach.

You held me in your grace all those many
years ago when I stared up into your
glowing, quiet face in the wee hours of
the morning, searching for comfort.
Together we heard the distant train
making its way through town,
a drawn-out mournful call that only the
alone could hear. You let my tears fall
freely without admonishment.

Your steadiness is dependable and
the tides dance in and out, ebbing
and flowing at your bidding…your
strength disguised by your humility.

Your gentle smile showers love through
the cosmos, limitless and enveloping
I feel the energy pulsating your cool
glow, spreading serenity.

The stars blink in silver and gold as
your reflection sparkles in their eyes.
Eons of light flows in waves
within a universal hum.

It reaches my ears and with closed eyes I join you in a calming chant of om.

Grace prompts us to write of the moon at dVerse Poets.

Land of the Free

The U.S. Bill of Rights

Image by The U.S. National Archives via Flickr

Dwelling in the land of the free,
feeling caged, shackled and despaired,
how is it thus we are decreed?
Bureaucratic laws have us scared;
political greed leaves us snared.
Liberties and rights do retreat,
our soul suffers in deep despair.
In trust we give, do not mistreat. 

If we but band all together,
we may a chance of bringing change;
deference will keep us tethered.
Power is ours to wield downrange;
sincere discourse must be exchanged.
Polite demand, but firm and neat,
we will not stand to be shortchanged.
In trust we give, do not mistreat.

Understanding will bring us close,
our only chance for future growth,
no room for ego-swelling boasts.
Swearing allegiance by your oaths,
political servants, our hosts.
Humility, no scheming cheats,
will aid us more than grandiose.
In trust we give, do not mistreat.

We must not fall to depths of loath,
and bleak, unscrupulous conceit.
Lift, elevate, you and me both;
In trust we give, do not mistreat!

My entry for dVerse Poets FormForAll–French Ballade:  http://dversepoets.com/2012/01/26/formforall-french-ballades-i/

See the rules for this challenging form as described by Gay Reiser Cannon and give it a go.

Also entered at The Poetry Palace–Thursday Poet’s Rally # 61:  http://promisingpoetsparkinglot.blogspot.com/2012/01/thursday-poets-rally-week-61-january-25.html

Blue birds flitting amongst the magnolias,
trill a loving, thankful song.
Life is good at The Poetry Palace!

Many thanks for the Perfect Poet Award from the Thursday Poet’s Rally:  http://promisingpoetsparkinglot.blogspot.com/2012/01/perfect-poet-award-week-61.html

I nominate Old Raven, a blogger of deep spiritual inspiration through poetry and memoir.

Humility

There once was an elderly man

Who had been poor his entire life

His belongings were meager

Only minimal necessities

He had never gone to school

No formal studies to read or write

He was illiterate and knew nothing of the world

But his eyes shone with a luminous light

A beatific smile appeared on his face–day and night

His countenance was saintliness personified

He recited stories that told of self-realization

And of saints and sages that he had encountered

While traveling the unseen planes through his mind’s eye

He spoke of having merged with the One

And his freedom from attachment to this earthly realm

Living with ease with what life brought–good or bad

Seeing both with equanimity

His calm and loving nature brought peace to others

He imparted awakening to those around him with a glance

His ego had weakened to almost nothing

Wherever he looked, he saw beauty

He had found the Supreme Truth within

He lived in a state of bliss

Nothing could shake his foundation

He lived out his days simply

With everything that he ever needed

And shared it all with others 

Tiny Weed

Weed flower 012

Image by Dry red clay via Flickr

Lowly, tiny weed

possesses orchid beauty

with humility.

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