Tell Me There Is No God

Tell me there is no God

And I shall die in my garden

Breathing the wonder,

My brain obliterated

By the green spring

And the blackbird

Fluorescing

Music and magnitude

And wielding the shrill knife

Of beauty’s grievous wound,

And I will say nothing,

But put the pen

On the paper

And write my pitiful, joyous attempt

At the writing of it,

And die in my tears

And laugh in my tears,

And cry for the love

That kills me

As I feel

Its world-ending enormity.

The Heart Sun

The sun gives

Without question,

Pulsing with energy

In an ever outward movement,

Gifting without requirement,

Being because it is.

And we, the myriad life

In all our forms

Receive this gift,

And dance

In light transformed,

Wholly containing it.

The inner sun,

The sun of our heart

Is not different

Or a photon less

Than its heavenly reflection

Benevolent beyond our sky.

Divine Mother

The mother gives

The gift, the life, the energy.

She is

In the shape of

The mother beyond the world,

Who breathes life

Into existence.

The mother is deity in earthly form,

No less than God

But no more than the mothers

In time, who populate the ages,

And bring new life

Time and time again.

They are her

As she is them.

In their hearts

They know her

Although not all resonate

With her full magnitude.

When she gives

The world is more

For she is the blood in the veins

And breath coming freely,

Filling the lungs,

And elevating the body

And the mind

With the gift of Source

Given infinitely

As a stream of love without end.

The New News

Turn away the eyes

And comfort the ears:

Let the news fade

So all the angry voices are quietened,

Their fear lessened,

Their turmoil stilled,

The mangled knot of fractions thought

Fermenting doom and worse

Popped in the corner and ignored.

What is the real news,

The new news

Born in the self centre,

In the place that is no place,

The voice speaking

Of heart

And love

And truth,

That we are more

Than these jagged thoughts

Blown out of all proportion

And enlarged

Into flagrant monsters?

We are more than this:

More in the quiet place,

The stillness,

The ever expanding space

Of new ideas

Made from nothing.

The time has come to acknowledge love

And its infinite yet subtle process,

It’s utter gift,

It’s ubiquitous and never failing availability;

For it is free for all to take their fill,

And given wholly

To ever single one of us.

Source

The flower of my heart

Blooms on a stem

Of gossamer energy,

Upsurging from the world

Behind the world,

The space that is formless.

My heart smiles on me

As the heart behind the heart smiles,

As love comes

Like a river from the source:

Like a river from the source

Provided endlessly.

Love Is

Love is movement,

A gift,

Unowned

Yet given.

You can not hold it

Only ask

Or make a beautiful wish

Or speak a prayer

To expand and broaden the world.

It is not yours

But you may use it,

Feel the expansion

As it flows away,

Your life acknowledged

As it leaves,

Yourself made Infinitely fertile.

For as it is given

The well refills

The source expands

And you are changed,

Lighter for the affirmation,

Joyous because you are more,

Loving because you gave it all away.