There are memories most pervasive
of thoughts beyond the lost words endured
in seeking truths as foundations
for my yearning, churning youth.

Then there are phrases caught forever
in the web of my patterned constructs
that guide the search for balance
on the fulcrum of my soul.

Two such glimmers of gifted wisdom
seem to be in conflict of intent,
and I sense that life’s mysteries
are found in such discordance.

“To love any woman profoundly,
you must love all women a little!”

“If I am to see love in everyone,
I must first embrace love of one alone!”

How can both thoughts be true in wonder,
if one must listen to mind and heart
to forge a plan of human touch
and echoed painless passion?

Within Phinominal Expansion
one might project:

“The relationship of the love of one
to the love of every man,
is as the ratio of the greater part
to all of love imagined”

Yet this universality
doesn’t direct which should be the greater;
nor if by expanding all love
the distinction may dissolve.

A mystic might cleave this Gordian Knot
by surrendering to Divine love first;
and then approach each new stranger
as both ‘the one’ and ‘of all’.

A pensive crone or wizard might allow
that ‘to love oneself’ is paramount –
with all love flowing naturally
from knowing love by living.

But, as a poet with a sense of awe,
I might leave such mysteries alone;
and just craft a lens and mirror
that thee might encounter love.

I am but a leaf on that Tree, you know;
Proof of creation and humanity --
Gifted to pull energy from the sun
And caress it into bright green delight.

Then I can climb -- dream of distant stars,
Claiming each handhold on the concrete walls
That would keep me within my directed space,
Though I stand in sharp contrast to the clouds.

But surely I must fall, now free in death
To lie unnoticed 'midst the bitter stones
That shield my roots and forgave my birth
To be more than a weed in a garden.

Down, down I slowly drift as softest snow
To brave cycle my drops of fervent dew
As tears for those who never had a chance,
Or still lie coldly dormant and afraid.

Yet I hear laughter -- a feel dancing mist,
To float in a tiny pool of spring --
Swirling, cleansing, praying for fulfillment
As I shake off the dust of earthly toil.

Then a throbbing pulse and spirit rushing
Transports me to a gliding spillway
Of sunlight smiles and smoothest stones
To purify my vigil of awareness.

Oh, now to leap so free in timeless space,
Bound by faith and waiting depths of desire
To be one with all and send ripples forth
To join in song with a fountain of joy.

Gently I am kissed by flowered hints
Of still more life beyond perception;
A tumbling crash of chaos and mem'ries
Of a Source of simple innocence.

At last a place of peace and gentle rest
Where my last vestiges of humanity
Can molder away 'neath soothing sands
'till rebirth in the Fountain of Lemoure.

faucon
LampLighter of Abbey Dawn

I am Trebusca, the Lantern of Shadows;
the shuttered haven of sheltered spirit,
and the protector of the Flame of Orbe.

I await for courage bold to yet unveil
these windows into my soul and lost wisdom,
and rekindle the candle of yearning hope.

Until then I hang in cobwebbed silence,
dingy with the dust of worthless memories,
slightly swinging in such chaotic darkness.

Legend may invoke your fear of my brightness,
made so if you choose to cast caution aside
and drop all of my shields in surrender.

Try but one at a time, my feckless children;
and desmudge the glimmering colored facets
that they might reflect the early morning sun.

Peer intently through these crystal lenses
with gentle wondering eyes of innocence
and simple loving bound now in charity.

Please breath softly on the glowing embers
of the passion of attention and creation,
and prepare to witness this born EverLight.

Then marvel at the burst of understanding
that this lantern of such ancient covenant
contains but a divinely polished mirror.

You are and be and was the spark of knowing
that by looking deeply in may dance without
and briefly touch the stars in our joined hands.

It takes but two, though more may profoundly serve,
that we may see ourselves in the laughing eyes
of friends and the open hearts of strangers.

I see in you the Light of we Namaste',
and embrace these filtering walls of loneliness
that make us by choice so intensely human.

faucon