The Day Before Tomorrow

[Guest guest]

I had a difficult 24-hr workday yesterday, however, I took Dick Holmes

book of poetry " Recipes for Gratitude " with me, and between the

moments and movements of anger, grief, frustration, joy and bliss,

these poems emerged and converged:

 

i.

 

freedom is the

weightless drop of

a copper penny,

newly minted

falling on an

unforgiving summer pavement

bouncing sometimes

on a hot day,

as if its elemental joy

leaps

before it twirls on its

side, as if on fire

disappearing

from unwary eyes,

or holes in pockets,

to be found--

once again,

sometimes as if brand new...

more often than not

traceless

are the years,

remove all

misunderstood poems--

and the joy of luck,

oh lucky joy,

oh lucky life,

 

I have been found.

 

ii.

 

the will to be known

in the I-Eye of God

seeing him/herself

in the Oneness

of Self

belongs to no-one,

who will contemplate

everything

before reaching

the conclusion

of a solitary

lifetime

 

iii.

 

the familiarity of

this yearning

pound of flesh

rests

passionately at ease,

we are going

everywhere at once

only this consuming vibration

remains

for those who will

yet

to hear

an echo

a touch,

ecstasy's

eternal embrace

with their Beloved

 

iv.

 

if I lose myself

in your Poem,

Dear One,

let me be,

just

let me be

guide your loving hands

should ever I return

from this sublime

intoxication, this

divine insignificance

 

v.

 

Love, how long

you have hidden

yourself in me!

I have only

useless maps now

I have nowhere

to go

where you are not

I see only your

map, Love,

layered in proximity

and revelation

 

vi.

 

time

will blow out this

song

of my life

my soul will

have melted its

flame,

the distance

between

the pristine light

melting like a

candle in the dark.

 

vii.

 

how do you

touch an angel

without

being touched

by humanity?

where does

the struggle to

be free

form in the

seeds of duality?

When can a

living soul

fly?

Where is Home?

 

viii.

 

if only I had

just one more

turn

of the sun

from night into day

 

If only I had

just

one more

phase of the moon

turning

in all its faces

 

if only I had

just one more

year

to return the eclipse

of my heart

 

if only

I had some

only left

 

ix.

 

several

incarnations later

Adi Da says:

" We are left in the paradox

of enjoyment in which only

Dissolution exists. " .... or words

to that effect...

 

several incarnations of Anna

later

I rest

comfortably numb

in his words

balanced

on the sharpest edge

freefalling

into oblivion...

 

 

Love To All,

All To Love,

 

Anna