those who give

Posted on June 17, 2014 by skipavm@gmail.com
Those who give,
travel within the deep hull of the given…
this exchange builds a seaworthy vessel
The way your ship lists
is a lullaby.
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Humans

Posted on June 12, 2014 by skipavm@gmail.com

Wherever they are gathered,
they are sure to draw attention to themselves.
They are unable to avoid the same eventual malady
but their symptoms are beautiful to behold.

They are painters of great landscapes,
yet challenge painters to capture their colors.
Their greatest moments come during their downfall.
And our rejuvenation comes with their rebirth.

They are the harbingers of memories
of when we climbed among them.
Yet they harbor children in their earthy smell and dampness
before they return again to the earth from the pyre.

They are from various branches of the same order
and keep their life force locked in large cells,
Which escapes as the year wears on,
eventually killing the jailers, and battening down their homes.

But were they not to die,
they might never be born.
Were they not to mingle in the eddying winds,
they would remain quite content ,

but all the less noticed.
Regardless, wherever they are gathered,
they are sure to draw attention to themselves.
Humans be humble, lest we forget
the wonder of tree leaves.

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Die Beautifullly

Posted on June 10, 2014 by skipavm@gmail.com

Were a rose to know the gift of its own fragrance, 
it would surely die… fulfilled. 
Sweet attar of its sigh
lulls open the red petals of my own empty heart
who could behold such hollowness
without imaging all it can hold
’tis recompense for the rose, I draw deeply…
and die beautifully.
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An Empty Gift

Posted on June 10, 2014 by skipavm@gmail.com

 

A gift is fragrance out of breath
fled from the abode of the urn
seeking respite of a wayfaring vessel
within whom, it makes its return.

Be not daunted, open the cover,
Draw deeply from spirits fathomless well
Oh, water bearer for the soul of dry parchment,
A river of words erodes the truth a mountain can tell.

Lo, winds of wisdom for the seeking leaf
Softly turn its empty pages
Stir them not, but deliver the stillness
Spoken through the love of inner sages.

Leap not, be gently drawn
Oh, sojourner, not so soon,
Soft, the precipice waits for you to cast
From the abode of your own perfume.

Those who give, journey on
Deep in the heart of others who are given
And when the page seems dark, find the spark
When the flint of the lover strikes the Beloveds frizzen.

(written for a writer at http://skyblueandblack.com/)
Happy Birthday Maha #
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Dance Change

Posted on June 10, 2014 by skipavm@gmail.com

Big changes propagate from the slightest shift….
one small pebble will unsettle a placid pond…
parted lips can divide a nation…
Change within is the dance,
all around us is music
And we are the musicians…
Change is not an effect,
it is the cause…
play your own music, Mystic!
And everything dances around you.

(To change your life, you must first live the change.)

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In side and beside

Posted on May 15, 2014 by skipavm@gmail.com

The map to your heart,
is in your heart.
So where are you going?
Be still.

The Light in mine
Of which you seek
Illuminates Yours.

Seek the One who points your soul
toward love’s direction.
He is pointing at you.

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Teaspoons of Light

Posted on May 13, 2014 by skipavm@gmail.com

I take in teaspoons of light
to feed the darkness…
and it still growls with hunger.

Nothing craves light
more than a shadow
with a secret it wants to show.

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A Lions Dream

Posted on May 13, 2014 by skipavm@gmail.com
What gives the lion his strength,
is the softness of his Dreams.
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Driftwood in Your Ocean

Posted on May 12, 2014 by skipavm@gmail.com
When I am silent,
I am down in my imagination.
I am swimming,
seeing the surface of your eyes,
the sea beneath them,
the currents…
upwelling.

Never mistake my silence for absence.
I am driftwood in your ocean,
you flow above and below.
I seek your presence in the pause..
where the seed of a poem forms.
Such a sweet and quiet place,
your eyes.
I’ve fallen asleep to the essence of you
many evenings..
searching for what you
already hold
and offer
in a kiss.
Delicately compiled from my various drippings and reflections by Maha E.
When someone hears you and assembles you such, into poetic epilogue, this is what happens.  Thank you for seeing the rose through the thorns.
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The Albatross

Posted on May 12, 2014 by skipavm@gmail.com

This is the albatross…

Our imaginations are like this; abnormally large wing spans, resting infrequently if at all for many trips around the earth, sleeping in flight, heart only racing when it lands… monogamous, faithful to it’s own solitude and stillness – as no other living thing could sustain such speed and endurance without as much movement as a pulse in a thin vein. Anything but that preserved by the divine, falls into fanaa… baqaa > unity, unicity, unification…mm.

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