Two Parts, Part I The Still Point Part II The Peaceful Warrior

[Guest guest]

The still point is a hammer that nailsplease forgive me as I said i wouldn't

send one posting to several groups,

I just felt I needed a reminder;-)

 

YIL,

Anna

 

 

 

 

 

Part I

 

 

 

THE STILL POINT

 

 

 

 

 

The still point is a hammer that nails

 

One to a cross

 

Half vertical, half horizontal

 

The eventual horizon,

 

Landscape of death and a bleeding

 

Of time,,,

 

Bitter herbs and glossy pelts

 

Serve only the hunger for life,

 

Intentions and reflections

 

Of that Dark Night,

 

 

 

The still point is denser than

 

Moonless forests in twilight

 

Rest a while, feel your

 

Energies growing, feel the

 

Hum and the drum of rhythmic

 

Beats, put your head to the ground

 

And return to your roots, for you

 

Have been furiously uprooted in

 

Your own forests of the Apocalypse,

 

 

 

The still point is your body afire

 

With

 

This flame of spirit you would quench your

 

Thirst, you must burn thoroughly,

 

You must burn, baby burn

 

Your life is on fire,

 

You understand Light

 

You test yourself, your walk on fire

 

And burn the pages of your own

 

Book of Life.

 

 

 

The still point is your Silence now,

 

The presence of all beginnings and endings

 

Visions fly away on the wings of an eagle's whistle

 

And flitter

 

Haltingly on a saffron butterfly's tongue, you are

 

A warrior now, you rule the barbarians

 

At the gate and invite them in for

 

A cup of green tea,

 

 

 

You Have Fallen In Love

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Part II

 

 

 

THE PEACEFUL WARRIOR

 

 

 

 

 

The peaceful warrior walks in the calamitous memories of silence,

 

Dons a silver coat of armor inscribed with the words of God,

 

He or she rides a magnificent white steed that flies in both sun and shadows

of the night,

 

Adoring and cherishing the hearts of all, for there is noOne save the

Beloved..

 

 

 

The peaceful warrior dances with lions and sings with the howling of black

wolves,

 

Prays with eyes turned inward, and hands turned outward, ceaselessly giving

and

 

Receiving praise, a close yet distant and secret Magnificat, of windmills

grinding the

 

Daily bread or a gifting, manna from heaven, the taste of nectar and honey.

 

 

 

The peaceful warrior's eyes weep starlight and tenderly behold a baby's first

breath,

 

She dances rainbows in filigree patterns of spider webs, and fishes with snowy

egrets,

 

The raven and eagle are his earthly companions, they speak in parables only he

 

Understands, and sometimes words spill like the hunger of a leopard when truth

flees on

 

The wounds of a gazelle.

 

Sometimes benediction dissolves the broken hearted in the

 

Nearness of Love, the proximity and destiny of the last strawberry on the fall

downward

 

As the peaceful warrior descends into One Heart, struck by lightning, the

glimmer and

 

Shimmer patterns of the Enlightened Mind; unearthed and plucked from the agony

and

 

Ecstasy of the One and only Lover, this is the way The Universal Soul is born.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

11/05