V. 2. / 39.) With A Wisp Child's Listening Eyes...

With a wisp child’s listening eyes

And perceiving ears

I knew

By those senses – not my own

I lived and slowly grew

And heard and saw – the wheat

In the silent pool

The whirlpool – had wound

The other way round

And I – I had dropped to my knees

In delighted wonder

To see what the withering fire

Had left behind it?

A full ear of grain was there

Upon the silver face

For the work – by the fire 
That is above

Was done

As complete the live-green stalk

As my unwinding was

From moving with the winds

And not resisting

From speaking with the seas

And not sleeping

The completing 
Of my severed senses

Resting

Upon the pool – the reflected picture

Given in the instant

And rightly every seed aligned

Along the live-gold – living stalk

As sure – in their piercing work in me

As a hundred spearheads

All neatly tied together

Of these living life-seeds – heart-jewels

Above hundredfold

Were given me

And in each and every seed

Upon one stalk

Source of a hundred thousand

More

And infinity – for those the air took

In my every whirlpool . . .

A whirlwind – undoing me

In my every trial . . .

A breakthrough – renewing me

In my weighty ice . . .

A fierce fire – melting me

Taking me through

       *

38.) Vision Broadens, Light Enters Deep...

Vision broadens – light enters deep

The subterfuge is passed, that misted life

The armour of self-love no longer needed

There – that was the beginning

There where shields fell – no longer clung to

That was the opening – where stars fell

Would they never guess the way in?

Plain though it was – this door through my mud

That gave to the pathways of the sky

Was to the world’s mean-eye – mostly hard hid

As air is harder to see than a mountain

And – fleeting – the world’s brief sight of it

As late summer’s shimmer on a bird’s wing

Passed – and quickly disappeared it is

As the sky-edge is gone with the sun

Heavy as the armour they wore against it

Was the blinding of their heart’s eye

The door they looked for they refused

Would they never guess the way in?

In a once wicked whirlpool – fire’s unwinding
Of a firkin weight of ice
That set me free of all my armour
Till I saw – and with a child’s listening eyes

*

Brief Note....

  

I have been away visiting family in Galatea, New Zealand, for the past week, and so I have not been writing during this time.  (At the end of September it was the same, also.)

Each poem, in this series, THE COUNTING-FALL, has been written on the same day that I post it here, on this blogspot site, Amethyst Poetry; often writing and posting two of these in one day.

I hope to continue this series; but I have been sick for the past few days; I am definitely getting better now, so I hope to write, in the flow, again, soon.

I am so grateful for the encouragement I receive from knowing that there are people who read my work here. 

My heart-longing in everything I write...is to give what I have; to give and to surrender all;  if, by any means I might be given true light and life...the wherewithal that blesses...to touch and inspire and encourage others who walk this, wondrous, but often very lonely way.

Thank you so much for your continued support; and for keeping on looking here when so many days have gone by 'blank.'  

Much love to you,

Judith

37.) See How The Wind Ride Through The Heights...

See how the wind rides through the heights

Out of the terrible place where the golden were taken

Gathering – from out the four corners of the earth

As was promised long ago – out of another age

The gilded – that with the dead body lived and waited

Those who knew their place where eagles gathered

Where all the sighted wrong-ones – lived in spirit

Unseen – not understood – mistaken in identity

But in a future world made new, held in the crystal sky

The far, further realm – above the barrier skin – above

The black sequined sky the beaded bridal dress –

The starry heavens that was the roof of Earth.

What was waiting was all here and the Life that did it

 *

36.) Flawed The Diamonds Of A Foretelling Story...

Flawed the diamonds of a foretelling story

Glints of glass words woven in its tapestries;

Still treasure’s stitched within the invisible tale

In quick unfoldings of the cloth of testimony 

A spark! – And a glimpse of the horizon land

That comes and goes with the light –

A meeting of reaching things in liquid air –

In the silence the lift and the pull of hands

And lights combining, and the span of things

Seen, as though through water – the expanse

And in the blurring, the seamless extent of it –

An enlarging through the ways of mist

In the lover abiding – sight of the Summer Isle

That floats and sinks at the will of the wind

The Islet of Glass, through which the future

Can be seen – and for those who live there –

The past which made it

As clear as brightness on a night after rain –

The Isle of the Sailing Moon in the Sea of stars – 

Conquerors are carried there at their life’s ending

Not many can travel there, and then return

So empty is it of all tangle men cannot see it

But it is not empty that they see and miss it

Its direction can be found, even in dark Winter

For those who know the way – how it unwinds –
How, in truth, it lifts the buried and buries the lifted

Oh, how the inner compass shows up the bright space

Which through pride's thick skins makes its finding!

The lovely thing’s done in those who dare un-spin

     *

35.) The Power Of My Lover Moves In My Midst...

The power of my lover moves in my midst

Struggles against the constraint of ages

Fighting the deceit in the right ones lies

I yearn for my own kind – I live the dance –

The deepened pivot pierces, and releases us

Gripped of his love I push through the ground

My arms come up through the stubborn earth

My hands reach up to intercede through it

Fingers stretching up – like trunk and boughs

In two huge trees my arms emerge – yearning

Holding up the leaden sky, then piercing through it

My branches meeting the falling light of stars

Their branches, too, reach down, as mine reach up

Hands above the night sky barrier, the light there

Streaming through the holes we thought were stars

In the lover – the lower one fell, the higher one flew

Half way down, or half way up – the meeting place

Third heaven meets, and marries the conquered earth

                                          *   

34.) 'Remember Me,' He'd Said...

‘Remember Me,’ he’d said...

And he scratched it on the wooden bridge

For all to see,

The footbridge that spans the narrow bend

Of a muddy cove, near where I live,

Where the mauve-blue periwinkles hide

Perennial, peeping, beneath the dark trees

Hiding more than I should care others to see

Life – lived in full – beyond the barrier skin

A cornucopia held of candled love in trust –

On the other side – beyond the crystal sky

A cask of joy, unknown – rejected here:

Being of such a nature, on this sightless earth

That could not be spoken of – lawless here

But in paradise, part-gift of the white stone

The glorious infinity of the third heaven

What the wrong ones find and know in truth

The right ones refuse and turn from in disgust

Numbered with the transgressors the lover is

Who delights that the prey is as the foe:

All goodness on the other side is turned around

We know not what it truly is at all.

And the words engraved – on the wooden rail

Tell their tale of love, broad as the crystal sky above

      *

33.) In A Sky Of Glass The Ruby Labyrinth Seen...

In a sky of glass the ruby labyrinth seen

In the west and in the falling of the day.

Given to know the sword and to lift it there

Ways in open patterns split as doors turn

In the instant, they change, and re-form –

As the reflection in a pool quickly alters

By a stone thrown into it –

The stone in the pool is always same:

Its nature doesn’t alter

But reflective thought, by different ripples

Assembles differently, assumes a new name

And the picture in the mind’s water

Is almost new – All angled light changes

But even so I didn’t need to dig or delve

To look within to see what was there

It was there, of itself, and wherever room

In its own time would be seen and known

If it would – if it willed it to be so;

But what was written in my heart –

As the light moved, upon its inner surface

That I copied down;

And I did not wait to understand or stare

I knew – and that, not of myself – that

This Life that through the ruby pattern runs

Opens its doors, and ways – aligns the heart

To hear – see a new vision, and the sun’s love.

*

32.) Bear With Me Awhile As I Weep Inside Me...

Bear with me awhile as I weep inside me

Still I only tell what is told in me –

Straight as a comet’s trail, the fiery lines

Falling as a shooting star, the piercing darts:

Lines of life, drawn from a womb in the sky

I saw them, from the under-pillared land –

How that they met – those jasper threads

Falling, lit, out the silk-rock transparent sky

That came – deep calling unto deep in me

Lines that are hid from the cleverness of men

Kept secure from our own self-centred grip

Out of reach of our self-serving limpet mind

Lest we stick further hard into our fast ways

And think we can know by our own means.

Am I bitter? No. I merely grieve.....

Grieve for those who should have been

My siblings but are now my enemies

Those standing proud on their high places

Reaching to what they think the sun above

Lording it over one another, setting their sights

To the praise of the throng – and seeking honour

From them that can never truly give it.

Am I bitter? No... I think I merely grieve.....

*

31.) The Crystal Sky Keeps The Secret Hid...

The crystal sky keeps the secret hid

To muddle and confuse the hated truth

To enchant the blessed lines that led the way 

That forward, take my death to write

But that, onward, pull them through the loop:

The unclothing flow – the light which clears

Which untwists the ties, those knotted cords

And enlists the fragile heart to listen hard

Lift the clouded veil, tear the lifeless form away

Vanquished through the secret well of life.

Coming newly to me now, the season changes

Emerging spaces – ever-widening inner rooms

An encomium of dying growth, my Lover’s praise

And new lines sent me, from above the crystal sky:

Opening thought, as continual as the purple tree

Which on its loss – produces only more and more!

Spring lives – torn away upon the wind – renew!

I saw it, I was amazed!  Called – the purple flowers

Come again and again – amaranthine – unfading!

The rod that grew and budded first cut and slain!

                                         *

30.) Though A Thing Of Mist Your Greatest Behest...

Though a thing of mist your greatest behest –

A more inspired life, a more meaningful dish

The questing search outweighed the finding –

Where’re the heart its own provender owning

Took life for its own and therein missed the beat

The light that won, the dark that gave upon itself

The thing to have, the counting-fall, the lonely dip

But in truth – a gift which could not be given

And, at the door, at last, an oil which could not be shared

Except he build the house they labour in vain that build it

As a song bird will not fit in water, or a fish in air

The soul’s lovely things, which can be bought or sold,

Have, in truth, no affinity with life’s essential part;

However hard the mind might try and visions fill its eye

It takes blood to engage the heart; pain to anything real!

As the sword from the stone, as the sting from the honey

Full far the opening of mysteries and at last the unveiling

Through a night bright with stars and a white sickle moon

Life’s scythe reaping – sweeping the old away for new

And in Light’s heart, love, for every star that went with him

*

29.) The Holding Thing That Runs The Broken Find...

The holding thing that runs, the broken find

What they looked for, and never found, I had

The thing the world desired, I’d been given

Not, an added thing, but loss itself, my taken thing.

Not as I will, but as you willed – the turner

The turning thing – the spinning pivot –

Upon which all hanged and was made free

There the door cracked, and light seeped in and in.

Upon the inner sphere the silver shining face

And the door in the tree, returned – opened –

Each time, from fullness, reflecting a new picture!

Here a host of new screened writings, books in skins.

Light’s Library, itself, was hid inside – no dream

Row upon row, lining the inner walls – all there

Every history, of every fall, all recorded – complete

My hopes, and dew, my every dream – written there!

As each lively hair, was counted – so my every thought

As each grain of sand, numbered – so all my dreams

Each slightest hope, each heartbeat – emblazoned there

As for knowledge of me, it did not lack nor miss a thing!

*

28.) The Harmless Take The Harmful And Sing...

             The harmless take the harmful, and sing:

The weak take the strong, and laugh.

This laverock looks up, and you win its life –   

Before ever there was my will, it was yours!             

Your every claim upon me, my delight –

Before the beginning, my desire your own!

All lined in down, and lightly feathered:   

My heart upon your heart its fittest nest –

Your sharpest knife the love that pares away

My flightless feathers, and gives them lift.

                                    *