Coming Home

is when being away from yourself is no crime, and where wrongdoings are smiled upon, attracting no shame.

it’s when Ill thought is not made Ill with thought, but allowed to be but thought in the cosmos of your being.

it’s where there is no requirement for change, for already you are whole, and where need itself is looked upon with equanimity, and even calming is calm beyond calm.

it is when being is simply seeing what is being, and when warmth is all there is or could ever be.

Am I A Woman Or A Man?

The masculine polarity is lorded

In my mind.

The feminine principle is subjugated.

Am I a man or a woman?

I deem certain characteristics

As female attributes. Certain others,

I assign to the realms of the male.

Am I a woman or a man?

I raise my children

To view the world as I do,

They believe nearly all I taught.

Are they male or female?

My thoughts are riddled with bias

And unconscious design,

A rigorous conditioning.

Am I female or male?

I am a part of society,

Constructing the ‘how is’

In my action and inaction.

Am I masculine or feminine?

Am I a woman or a man,

A man or a woman,

A female or a male,

A male or female?

Am I jointly responsible?

Am I equally responsible?

Am I free of constraint

Or bonded to the ideas I believe?

Happiness

I walk in reality, breathing the breath,

Feeling the body, seeing with the eyes.

The world is beautiful

For it happens

Despite the thoughts in my head.

The garden grows, expands into spring,

The foliage lush with promise.

The cat sits by the pond, under the

Blossoming trees, and amid daffodils.

He breathes the air too,

Watching, always watching,

Thinking not one moment beyond the

Moment he’s in.

Toxic Femininity/Masculinity?

The angry mind and the put upon

Seeks its justice.

Who better

Than your polar self

To carry the ills

And the blame

So you may remain innocent

And put upon still.

Who raises the boys?

Who raises the girls?

In whose mind

Are the toxic stereotypes?

Who carries the bias?

Is the domination occurring

Out there or within the framework

Of mind?

Who perpetrates,

keeps the system going,

Passing it through the generations?

Who are the parents of our collective Psychology?

Who is the mother?

Who is the father?

Are we not all children, osmosing

The faults that came before,

Then offering them

To our children

And the children to come?

Who is responsible?

Who is responsible?

Who is responsible?

You are responsible.

You are responsible.

You are responsible.

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.

Only In Love

When we are not love

We are but the echo of the past

Thrown into the future,

For as we were made

So shall we make the world.

Only in love

Are we exposed,

Waking from the dream

Of happening without volition,

Happening without choice or will.

Only in love

Can we see the bones

Of being,

And choose,

Choose our way through.