Created Out of Nothing . . .

WHAT WAS created out of nothing

Was full of everything

What was created out of love

Contained all that was needed---

Love is everything

Love---taking everything away---

But itself---

A book of answers in riddles--- 

Giving all of itself---to find them out

                                *

Where there is Space

Alone---in the unknown of light

Fearless in wisdom---un-crowded

Dark closed caves in mountains

Bright lit caverns in hills---

Places of inner myth and legend

And the uncomfortable holds

Of knowledge few would treasure

Where the tears of heaven flow

From the ruts in the road

And the hollows in the sea

Where there is space

There is hope of a pouring-in

Where there is space in me

There is room for grief

You have taught me what space is

And I learn of you

How to let you make it in me

Everywhere

Where there is none

I cannot be lonely

And without being lonely

I cannot fathom the gifted depths

You have given me to roam

Yet so lonely am I

One vast ocean of it in me

So much loneliness

Room in me for third-sense

And sensitivity, like nothing else

                            *

The Thing That Will Be

IT TAKES its time

That thing that will be

That will be what it is in its time

All things are made beautiful

In their time

And above it and beyond it

If its essence is in my---now---

If its embryo is tucked away

In my inmost being---

Waiting---

I cannot wait for what isn’t partly mine---

Now---

If it wasn’t I couldn’t 

I would not have any idea of it---in me---at all

It is the foolish things of the world

Which were---chosen---to confound the wise

 *

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

Spun Light . . .

BEAUTY--- in silence--- Quiet in stillness---

Takes the lovely things of peace

And from their essence

Makes a thing of spun light float as feather-down

Leaving trails of itself in spiralling threads

Of exquisite thought

Come to steal away the dust of dullness

The dim of idleness--- and touch and illumine

The far reaches of my mind

I am lost in straight lines where I think in wise spaces

There are no curving meanings that enlighten

Where I know too much---

The things of haste become loquacious thieves

Where I speak long-winded forms of outward thought

 

They are not--- lifting--- these easier rambles      

That fill my common paths of well trodden concepts---   

They perform only the dry duties

Of the outskirts of existence--- that take no time

To understand--- the things that cannot be understood

Rather be lost for words 

Than have them marry too quickly

We are all the poorer for our many speeches

Enough that we have the glint of the thing

The sudden sparkle of the hiding diamond

More reflective light 
      Than we could ever see or know---  

Or turn to thought--- 

Dances on the twinkling sunlit sea

                                     * 

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

    

Hidden From the Minds of Men . . .

Arkiahh dreaming--- sleeps---

No hindering thing---

Loved in slumber and taken deep

Clear down the blue-green depths

Through crystal shining wastes

His only daughter--- moves--- fallen---

Weightless into endless light

Sinks--- beneath all former lines of sight

And finds there the truest things---

That wade--- wise--- intangible in sea water

Hidden from the minds of men

In forms they cannot understand

And--- infinitesimal--- as so many particles of salt

She gathers them up and presses them to her heart

Transmutes them into gold---

And in dream is lifted back

And up and up--- and through the air---

Free in that ageless ring of love

Which surrounds the earth and all that is in it

To scatter her gold--- in regions of the light

Throughout its length and breadth

Its height and depth

Ever waiting to enter--- penetrate men’s hearts

In shafts of pure and sacrificial love 

Even, if only, in--- the smallest measure---

That those who walk in dark might find

Their joy--- in things they half remembered---

Beneath the sea-green depths--- above

The azure heights---

The swiftest part of life the hardest seed of truth

The light beyond the love for which

They didn’t know they yearned

Out of nothing but faith in love’s power

To move all hindering mountains

She weaves the going-through

And leaves her gold unpolished---

Raw in an eclectic binding clay---

To strengthen that part

In man’s own heart which must struggle first

For the unfolding of his secret wings--- and flight---

Inner freedom from his own eclipsing wisdom---

And loses her standing--- her sanity in the world

For the foolishness of the beyond

And every telling thing that ever made

An ignorant child a servant of the wise

             *

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

A Vision From Another Brighter World . . .

A VISION from another brighter world

Writing its history with such a contented air

Seeing and capturing the live things there

Coming in at hour when you didn’t think

Peace my warm hollow the place of heaven

Space and life at the end of not knowing too much

A full cup of it in not having any need

Not needing to fill in one’s own place

A roadway in a palace opening in a wilderness

Overflowing rivers in a desert making lakes of mirrors

People, falling in pictures of light with a gentle descent

Forming pathways of leaves leaving plans for escape

                                            *

Shopping For Daisies

SHOPPING for daisies . . .

Exchanging torn out pages

For a bit of praise . . .

It soon ends in depression

Leaves thrown back at you . . .

But the pool increases, deepens, darkens . . .

The well of the uprising replenished

For a greater shining

Pain the anvil the smith’s hammer pounds . . .

The discarded things fallen

Go swimming in water . . .

The worth of leaves breaking down

The fighter undaunted . . .

Word-trees in happy sadness being nourished

For a further outworking . . .

All leaf disappointments may be tucked under

Mulched . . .

The light in what will take you up

The life in what will bring you down

To fuel it

The decomposing in the down

The fertilizer for the up

And they are same

                                      *

In the Middle Distance

GETTING IT too plain

And there was an inevitable exactness

Like music ending

Even searching for it in a tree of bitter fruits

Was too exacting

They found edges too sharp again

Rosy dawns with dew lingering

The water not taken up yet and gone away

Something of it there . . .

If, that is . . .

They were there on time with the rising sun

And went with it

It all was in the spontaneity of lucid fingertips 

Touching keys in an unknown chord

And tapping out the tune with not any ending

Always stopping in time for tea

Endings of little fidget rivers

                                       *

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

The Uprooted Tree . . .

THE UPROOTED tree . . .

Journeying in safer grounds than earth . . .

A tree of life . . .

Its fruit revealing at the four points

Of the compass cross where Arkiahh was . . .

Dreaming of the return of forgotten hopes

Other halves of lost precious things

Inset in fiery orbs spinning every way, where

Altars were, in every sacrifice of joy . . .

Coals of fire, altering the stars in their courses

So immense the smallest part of surrender

                                     *


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

The Pear Tree and the Sun . . .

THE PEAR TREE uprooted from the earth

Branches thin and angular...

Roots dangling...

Moving in its transit through other times

Receiving life suspended in rays of sunlight

As it made its journey above the earth

Anchored in the ground of dreams . . .

All it bore was filled with the light which gave it life

The fruit of perfect answers past and future ever present

Given to the winged who partook where were

No laws to bridle life . . . 

Nothing could limit what it could be, or do . . .

This tree replied to dreams no man ever knew he dreamed

                                             *

A Cradle Of Innocence

A CRADLE OF INNOCENCE

A calming place in confusion

Perceiving what the dream winds blew . . .

In the moving of the pear tree 

In its transit through time . . .

A loosing of its leaves . . . news of a far country . . .

The essence of things hoped for being whispered out . . .

The underneath pulsing through . . .

The lover and the loved being one the leaves of the tree

Were medicine 

Of all the leaves that were loosed . . . and the scattered

Cradles of peace they bred . . . in news of home . . .

None were so vital as those they could not understand

None so full of glory as those from which they turned away

 

                                               *

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

The Pool Of Water At My Feet . . .

I HAD HARDLY to take one step forward

Than I was in it . . .

The pool of water at my feet . . .

That particular pool of loneliness

In which I had a part

Into which I could step, or not step

And take part in its life, or not . . .

Reel, perhaps, in its requirements of me

And be enriched by it . . .

Or, take a leap over it

And miss out on its incredible bounty

All that is at my feet is my given portion and a gift

Why not be brave and step into it?

If, its gouged depression, down there on the ground

Was just the shape of the pool created by my tears . . .

To enable me to enter life and light . . .

Why grieve? The thing is life!

The pool expands . . . contracts . . .

Disappears for a season but always taking me with it

Where it has gone inside because of its being in me . . .

I am a part in all that loneliness is gifted by

And that particular pool of loneliness

In which I had a part

Was a well of water and everlasting light and life

                                      *

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