I Stand In Rain . . .

I stand in rain

Fierce light pierces the deluge---

Caught--- I am pinned to the earth

Rain--- seeping through my thin coverings--- and

I am drenched in all the goodness that is in it---

Loosed--- I am lifted to the least above

Twin streams run down my face

Salt and fresh mingle there--- 

And it seemed to me--- emptiness and liberty---

The vast spaces of it--- were one---

And the tender mercy and love of God

Waiting at the heart of all experience---

And I was well again

I stand in rain

Built of rock there, I can be nothing

In peace--- complete---

I can be happy again

                                    *

- From:  ARKIAHH DREAMING; The Ragged Writings of Everland; Volume 3

102.) From The Springing Well . . .

From the springing well of waters

That moved within

Came the little upward travellings

Of the light, that cleared the way

And made it always new.

And in the softly singing well

With all its many runnings over

Was a store of ready joy

And wisdom; and it was all a gift.

   *

101.) The Kite . . .

It was just around the corner

As it always is

In an open place there, waiting,

And I saw it just in time

Before it vanished

As I came there, where it was

Flushed with a happy anticipation

Full of answering surprise, for a new

Light that was in me, lifting like a kite!

It wasn’t made of anything that you

Could call, solid

Nor, held there by any earthly string

– And not a figment of the imagination

But, yes, it’s true – a thing of naught:

A little airborne diamond kite!

Made of nothing, but delight

Flying up there through the ether

Formed of lovely dancing light!

Two sticks that crossed, four points

Joined with string and brown paper

Streaming up and up – and away!

All my questions, all my sighs

All my unbending ways denied

All my helpless fears for love –

Arranged in ribbons there for rags

Tied in places, made the tail

And far it flew! – And flew away!

   *

Vol. 2. / 17.) When Dark Is Past The World's View Changes...

When dark is past the world’s view changes

Mind meets mind, the newer takes the day

And gone the time we waste and see in part

Misread prosperity for greed

And then deceive ourselves for nought

The old stone of pain now turns a pearl

An open door through these newer waters seen...

The oyster opens out the treasure read and shown

And self’s exalt exchanged for what was truest grown

Took us further in to work us further out

                                          *

Vol. 2. / 16.) I Cannot Quickly Pass The Thing That Matters...

I cannot quickly pass the thing that matters

The furrowed line of Adam’s legacy to me

Its deepest twist, the hidden crooked thing in me

That trips me up, but tricking, avoids its censure

My subtle subterfuge that tells me fibs... but

The lie undone that hangs the apple on the tree

Reveals the core of what it is I truly need to see

To lift me clear of all, to fly in un-imprisoned air!

Light, the freeing thing comes not by might or power

What I cannot know in mind I know in spirit

That under life beneath the life I lead

The castled dream thick walled, un-scaled

That only slowly passes by, unknown, untried...

Misread the map beneath the Map that told my tale

That Book to all the throng is veiled

None can breach its crystal walls that will not fail

Light, the lonely thing forever hid beneath the life

The only jewel of those, whom their own-selves knew

                                         *

(Poetry/ Vol. 1. ) Immortal Wound . . .

Ever Present

The immortal wound it had always been there

Throughout every age, throughout all of time

Through the entire universe it is there: the pinning pivot

Turning dead living toward the source of ever living wine  

Through my every portal the heavenly strike

The dividing smite, the flash of light rending me asunder

Wounded of a thorn in flesh, and immortality for death

The price, the pivot of life in spirit and in truth is bliss

           

Way of inner life: the fleshly wounding of me to see

Way of inner delight turning me upside down to know

Precursor of abundant joy, ever there my lively thing 

Pierced in and of mortality ever living immortal wound

Whispered

Tingling tales, gold pools, and light through starry veils 

All ideas and gleanings through those things the wind

Whispered 

They are ever flowing by

Their shining parts countless

All streaming in through a thousand portals

With their star bright kernels happening going shooting out

Having differing places for their comprehending –

Through me

Having different destinations which can comprehend them - 
Beyond me

Greater faculties are in us than we have ever imagined

But as all earthly cautious first things

Need only earthly searching hearts

Second things needed ethereal ones

And they are all

Inside us

Going by mainly undiscovered there

Mostly untried

Everland’s highest fiery light

That only out of darkness shines

Can only there be known 

And only so, if left unknown

Stars shine only in the dark

Why was the swiftlight made so impossible?

Why not make what is meant, simple

It is not in responses put in leavened words that touch 

But only those which evoke beyondness

Fear of what I cannot understand

And I paralyze all my powers of perception

First life understands by plainness

Second by enigma

And all in empyrean delight

As the river’s flow understands its own water

As a cloud’s formation apprehends the vapour within it

So is like with like and meetings where met

And I cannot use earthly capabilities 

To comprehend ethereal sensibilities 

Unfolding Wings

Lamp lit weavings undone in love’s bright gaze

Jade green comings that can never fade

All outpouring things from soaring lights

Liquid things from lifted heights

And mystery’s puzzled lines from fallen paper leaves

All flowing through my mind’s own outstretched wings

Oh for things which run as deer yet dance as clowns

Their yearning part’s fulfilled as the twig’s let go 

That one which went so far and back again

Till it was lost of every dulling outer outside thing  

And with beauty’s lifted feet came in, in dancing flight

To ply the waved waters through my own unfolding wings

When will I turn to him and bravely leave my holds

And let my captured knowings go, to know more

That first one, oh, it took me far enough

Still, to stay bound to that makes no sense in clouding

Release each twig: watch its returns of joy!

And let my inmost heart go further on in opened wings

A Moment...A Fleeting Dot of Time . . .

In all checkered places of the cutting back

Ascending stairs and steps to Everland

In the working backwards they were all around me

Those pictures of weighted things that fly.

In the painted vision of even the simplest thing

Came the entirety of the all in all 

Being there even for a moment and I was       

Through to the happening-breath of the Other Side

Immediacy in the taking in of life

The partition split in the instant

The curtain being pulled aside

And the running thing there inside the hard

Seeing through in this fleeting dot of time

I had wings to fly amidst the unravelling runes

Vaster, realer the feathered things there         

Greater than hard shadows of halting outsides

In the breathing instant the shining thing laid bare

And I too become taken of the breaking longing . . .

Its living part always reaching out towards you

Ever following you, seeing you pursue the swiftlight

Ever close to you, seeing you knew

The need of changing

And all that in the glimpse of one moment there

Upon the veiled steps and stairs of the descending

Bearings of the beautiful tastings of the love-gold

And the thing beyond you twisting its tearing edge

Deep inside you

Knowing you there, if you let it,  
The tearing thing, the freeing thing 
In the stairs of the pursuit        

The swiftlight in the knowing of you deep within

Bearings of the weight of a bushel of answers

Could you?

All branded oscilloscopes measuring uncharted waters

But to believe, who would be so foolish as to lose     

What you thought you knew?

Who would give a fig for a basket of feathers?

Or trade in their first lamp to join with the finders?

Amethyst Poetry / Writing Saga # 1 / Another Beginning

    The poem, Through Black Gates Rose Morning was the last ‘ragged writing’ of that particular early ‘second phase’ of Amethyst Poetry. The next, beginning with Rays Uncounted, was different. I found that I was led to a new or further level of heart outpouring, in another layer of language within the poetical creative expression that was given me in the spirit. There always awaited a further entering in; and, the losing of what was before, in order to find it, was always the way things for me: following the lamb, whithersoever...

     Following on from here, there are four more of these strange shinings through the amaranthine rocks in the third phase of Amethyst Poetry . . .  (The first phase: the original ‘incomprehensible’ poems /the second phase: the Word poems /the third phase: the beginnings of a new awakening.)

     The next four 'Ragged Writings of Everland:'

   

     Rays Uncounted

     Wisps of Sight

     The White Goose

     A Moment

The Seeing Blind

They waited long upon the silent lambs of peace

Captured the possession and the blind ones’ purse

Hidden but linked to an heir and by fairest fields pursued

They wandered ever onward in sightless passion-ed flight

Comings of walls and their tearing down to dust

Opened the mysteries which from countless ages followed

Yet still they waited not carried by love’s vicarious stripes

All gone astray in deceitful paths each coveting heart

Seeing not the part that with the fallen, lambs found their rest 

Amongst the transgressors they knew them not

Nor understood the perfect glory of their disgrace

Un-esteemed of them that thought they knew his name

Cleavings of a stony heart and clouds depart

From what was lost and wasted love was raised to fill

The gap and rushed up from a buried deep between the

Ranks and fortresses of all age-beleaguered thought 

Followed by a foolish few the broken blind were linked

For them love’s patterned words that let the light shine in

Pierced through they shone for those that went beneath 

And torn the blind ones’ purse by perfect mystery known 

None but the seeing blind would think wealth lay in loss

And bliss could be in being turned the other way around

That the purse contained the means of being back to front

Blind-silent lambs of peace all those made perfect from it

Out from the darkest depths they then rapidly appeared

Set against a sky of night as newborn stars

No more a disfiguring cup of trembling in their hand

Theirs now the day and ‘the-thought-they-saw’ the night

Roles reversed the mighty from their thrones removed

Crowds roared as the freed broken-open cheered

And travelling faster than the speed of light

Spun the world about as inner life turned inside out

And the dark was light wherever the world was new

Beginning Again . . .

   The six preceding ‘ragged writings,’ were the original poems - deemed incomprehensible - that I submitted to a professional body of poets. I surprised even myself that I did not immediately rip them up and throw then in the rubbish bin! But, as I mentioned before, in my fourth post: The Saga of Amethyst Poetry / Part One: A Winter of Rejection, [25^th September, 2014,] I did leave off writing poetry for two long years, brokenhearted. But I began again. And when I did . . . what came next? When my springtime finally came . . . what emerged?

     In a greater surrender, and a surer sinking into my Source, a new drawing up from my roots began; and I was led further into my Beloved and deeper into that Book out of which I came. And what came out of my middle, shining through the amaranthine rocks in Amethyst Poetry was birthed in that experience; and the words which flowed were locked in the imagery of the Word. My experiences in the things I was learning through suffering, formed themselves inside the ancient complex imagery in which I was immersed; so, it wasn't surprising, that it came out of my midst; it had to, before I could be led further into the glorious liberty promised all those who follow the lamb, whithersoever...

    The next four posts, four ‘ragged writings,’ are those I first wrote after the poem, “BEFORE . . .;” at the end of my long winter.

Before . . .

Before glass windows sea

Before see-through eyes dust 

Before love could blossom ashes

Light by Maze

The lucid maze figures on to fathom

The broad pillars plied with wisdom                                         

And there weep                                                                      

                                                                                                   

They little know the pain that’s there                                      

That gave the light and brought about

The shame                                                                                  

                                                                                                   

To have seen and yet not to know                                                                                                 

Do they really understand

My Father’s rain?                                                                    

                                                                                                 

He takes to give and they call him a thief

Only those who hold on

Weep                                                   

                                                                                               

They gain who lose who know the rain                                   

And losing all in lucid maze

The true Light win 

Silvered Seam

Fallow my space along all shores of sand

Emptied lines trace the waiting edge

Of those who fly

Hidden the silence that holds the blind heart

Knowledge leaves holes in the better part

Of those who know   

Silvered the seam that binds the sharp sea

Fallen wings deem folly the broken parts

Of those who wait  

Rolling of waves the flood tides enters 

Yet who could ever tell the fullness it fills

For those who have waited