Tag Archives: spirituality
Easter in Center Sandwich NH
Lent 2018
Sound is muffled in lovers ears
With the pounding of their hearts
Racing from all their fears.
We hear life’s music in its hustle and shuffle
And become doubtful of the truth.
Never deciding on what our hearts are to wear;
or, we should go naked, as we should go, before You
—accepting my knee.
*****
Blossoms are near, as well as the seed catalog.
Winter supplies are low.
We discuses what we liked and what we will not sow.
Of course, not because of taste or preference,
But, what our garden could not grow.
*****
*
The mountains are responding
to the spring sun. Awakening the deep valleys below.
Streams are slowly filling from the melted snow,
As we in Center Sandwich NH
Open our windows and open our doors.
*Photo by R.K. Garon outside Kathleen’s cottage on Holderness Rd. Center Sandwich, NH
The Gift Of Free Will At Sunrise
I shall not seek Thee —in a stiff collar of white or colorless turbine. Or, robes of wool…covering skin dark or light over bones disguised in cloaks of Yellow, Orange, Brown, and lest not we forget Cremora White!
—You have no need to convince me of the fig leaf on my soul! I have acknowledged its presence. I will find its place in the empty void.
I shall find You —by going forward and leaving me alone.
In valley below
winter thaws upcoming spring
On Holderness Road
Notes That Started The Morning Fire.
I burnt my breakfast with brown butter and garlic.
It rose above the perfumed oiled scent of progress;
—creeping through the cracks of my window sills
wafting silently, carrying the day’s
chain-linked smog…breaking in with
—my paycheck’s upcoming arena.
Oops, I meant, aroma.
For a moment I choose to linger
asking for only a cherry tree.
I welcome the reservation that you
have set aside for me.
No need to build me a fence—
I am locked inside.
~~~~~
Do I talk to myself? Me and him?
Of course! Who else would listen?
How would I know when to stoke the wood stove
and make coffee, home fries, and scramble eggs?
I always tell myself what to do.
I am vetted by my soul,
Me:
The web, trickling inadvertently behind me, as I walk through space
Connects me to another square that I had left!
Never touching the ground, I wait with patience
in silk expectation —for a life, now to be defined.
Him:
The thread of your existence is never behind!
Nor could it manufacture a web to connect
to illusive time!
Shake off that wiggle… trickling inadvertently behind!
Hey! Anyone up for coffee, home fries, and scramble eggs?
Five Verses From a Brief Visit This Solstice With Ch’an
On Judgment:
“If we didn’t see things fine and coarse
How could prejudice exist?”
~Relying on Mind~ Ch’an master Seng-Ts’an (J., Sozan)
~~~~~
I practiced non-discrimination
and had smiled often at my gestures—
until I was slapped by a whisk.
~~~~~
I understand how wrong I’ve been
and the shame I have brought to the other—
Each day wakes me quieter —clearer than ever.
~
Moments may be still –yet moves forever.
~~~~~
Causes are great —equal to the clouds
one may be greater than the other.
Dew is clear as no sound is loud.
~~~~~
What is it that I see— to bench myself in judgment?
Opinions are statutes!
Saddle my horse—
Giddy-up! I shall ride with the outlaws.
~~~~~
How does one heal from history
With its invisible scars and drooping eyes?
Thatch a new roof— and shush the flies.
“Jesus said:
If two make peace with each other
In this single house,
They will say to the mountain
“Move away”
And it shall move.””
~The Gospel of Thomas~[48p n] presented by Huge McGregor Ross
~Pine Cone Diary~ -proof 2018
Turn The Light Back On
Sundown was sinking from a ridge on Holderness road
Inviting me, or so I thought, to turn off –my one light on.
(The one I had turned on, when darkness was creeping along).
I could see as I stared out from my large window—
the only one in my cave— a dimming invitation
for a quick evenings celebration; honoring a season’s resignation.
I wanted to meet her –to greet her,
Before the winter moon rose to extinguish
her completed season’s accomplishments.
I left the house in a goose down vest,
donning my formal Pendleton— wide brim’s best.
Without a thought, I walked many steps
going about my way.
Until I opened my eyes
on an illuminated path of autumn amber pine needles
glowing from the rising moon and sunlight’s sunset.
They met and greeted me with giggles and mutual song.
I caught their transition between darkness and dawn.
They kissed each other… as the moon
asked me— to go inside
and turn the light, back on.
Photo by RKG… Holdernes Rd. Center Sandwich NH
The Shame of Religion [rev:15]
Page 6 of 110 ~Pine Cone Diary~
Why do we seek revenge, when our Soul
Is a ghost without identity; that seeks peaceful universal assimilation?
Those who capture other’s souls of Faith, caged in hate or repression, have honed their zeal
To inflict retribution as righteous judgment, on all “un-holy” dissidents.
Unable for their hearts to control their tongue or their scourge.
Love’s prerequisite of understanding, dampens volatile gun powder
And buries the sword of hate on the path to Nirvana, Olam Ha-Ba, Heaven, and Jannah …
Or any place else that is soft enough to dig with your hands, under loves direction, to bury your hate
wrapped in your inability to leave it alone. Silent until you truly understand.
(Having found on that path, without harm, a pure gentle human heart melted in living flesh
That had no eyes, nor memory, floating freely, Holy above the intellect in senses
without shame, I found myself without anything, for my Love, to have to explain.)
“In the universal silence of nature and in the calm of the senses the immortal spirit’s hidden faculty of knowledge speaks an ineffable language and gives [us] undeveloped concepts, which are indeed felt, but do not let themselves be described.” Immanuel Kant
Notes Found On The Refrigerator February 2017
The Internal Seed
I never did pretend very well.
Truth was perception—
Dismissing objective proof,
For the answer to the basic question
“How does popcorn pop”?
Mistakes, miss-judgments, funneled into the mind
Of tornadoes swirling heart-popping roofs off conjecture.
How long can one pretend to believe you can be received?
Gently through the bluster of ignorance?
And, yes, I am not the person I am.
I am the one inside of you
That never does pretend, very well.
“Wake up!” Said, the knife and fork to the spoon.
*****
I have lost many memories that I often find in my heart.
*****
Go home and simply be honest
To your lover and rekindle
The one action you forgot.
Notes Found On The Refrigerator: Autumn 2016
Don’t run away, unless you know where you are going.
Everyone should have an acceptance, and, an exit plan.
*****
Bottom Of The Glass:
…as long as I could see the bottom of the glass,
I would pour myself another drink;
Seeing my reflection
At the bottom of the glass
Sometimes dithered me though.
So, at some point,
I would leave the glass half-full.
*****
Love’s Encouragement:
(Inhale)
It is time we move on
from where we met
to where we were suppose
(exhale)
to meet.
(Breath)
Hold my hand, we’ll search our memory,
and find our way.
(Inhale)
It is time we move on
from where we met
to where we were suppose
(exhale)
to meet.
*****
Enlightenment’s Rock And Roll:
Often,
Silence is a noise we try to avoid.
Whether in conversation, in loneliness,
Or worst, when we are bored.
Yet,
When it is present, it opens the windows
With no mind. To a space quietly making music
To no one, in no place, for nothing.
So, before accepting it,
We kiss our mind gently good-bye;
And escape through the window, with our soul,
To join the dance, to the music of enlightenment’s
Rock and Roll.
A Pilgrim’s Egress In A Hundred Words
One leg dragging, the other —behind bended knee
I reverently balance. Wavering from doubt,
I fall prostrate, head on the ground…
Toes need a shoeshine.
I pay homage in acknowledgment, in humility;
Everything is greater than I am.
Womb of essence; ignition of light to life,
Great Lover in wisdom and without gender—
Give me a Faith free of guilt
Through this chaos of doubt.
Plume my wings
In my ascent. Unravel my bondage
From this self
In transgression.
The moon waxing,
Reveals an awakening without history.
Greetings soul! Spirit and spark of truth!
Oh, transition in created to creator.
1st. draft posted 2014
Rev. 2016
ZoralinQ 