LINES WRITTEN TO MY FRIEND, AJA THOMAS

Friendly-Monkey

This morning a doe and her fawn come up from the river
are eating green branches of  honey locust
cut and piled for burning.

In time we all lose interest in who we are supposed to be.
I am a box of air now, emptying and filling
and emptying again.

When I believe I am something special
drawn there by hidden fear
I feel it as loss.

Your friendship is a gift.
It reminds me I am still alive.
Keeps me focused on the simple longing for God.

When I think of you, I am happy.
20140709_191130-1-770980

"God Rocks" painted by Aja Thomas of Barnashram

“God Rocks” painted by Aja Thomas of Barnashram

TO MY LITTLE DOG, FREDDIE

Freddie and the lights!

Freddie and the lights!

one
We lean against walls together, pretending they are solid.
Find ourselves falling through
find that we are flying!

two
For the little white dog every smell is a door
opening  into rooms with ceilings so high
they have their  own atmosphere, their own sun and moon.
He enters, following lights only he can see
and  I who have drunk rain water from the hoof print of a white calf
follow him.

.
freddie in samadhi

MY DUTY NOW

Shivabalayogi Maharaj 1935-1994

Shivabalayogi Maharaj 1935-1994

In this world
we have to do our best
to keep our core humanity alive.
If we can see light
we must see it.
If we can catch sight of joy, we must see it
point to it.
Yes it is dark. This is undeniable.
Everyone feels that darkness
but not everyone can feel the joy
see the light rising and moving along the tree line.
It is my duty now
to feel, see, taste, to touch, if I can, the life itself
what we are.

.

.

GO TO HER

…I brought him to my Mother’s house
to the bedchamber of the one who conceived me.

Song of Soloman 3:4

119-krishna-vstrechaet-gop-kumara

GO TO HER
Leave the flesh waving behind
as you would an acre of maize.
Float out to Her, calling her name
your voice a morning glory opening
in the throat.
The name forming on your tongue is
one thousand syllables of falling water
drawn from our Mother’s well
fed by Her spring
hidden until sung for
in the folds of Her.

.