We Are Not Unconnected . . .

We are not unconnected---

The silver web that stretches round

The golden orb of earth

Links like-minded hearts

In hidden ways of love unfathomed

A gathering in---from the weary ways

Which daily pull us outward---

And we find the silver-lighted web

That underneath our plain lives

Travels in shining pathways---unknown

Weaving there bright mysteries of

Incomprehensible love

That in our darkness---ever pull us inward---

To ponder---wonder---marvel---
Wonder---a warming comforting thing
Bearing witness to realities beyond
Human understanding---

Yet never knowing---that though

Our thoughts go out against each other

They meet---at their other ends---

For the place where we walk is a sphere

A golden globe---

And where they touch they meet---

On the other side

And---did we but know it---right thought

Met what we thought was wrong and married---
And we knew everything

                       *

The Cleansing Tears . . .

The cleansing tears . . .

That fell, a shower of brilliant stars

Over the rim of the world . . .

Working . . . truth . . .

As a grain of salt in our blind eyes

Stinging there, bring drops of water

From first contact with life’s firstling-sight

And create a flood . . .

To better see through the dazzle

That sunlight, too

Seeking to enter upon his preserving work

Should freshen seeing . . .

And through the necessity . . . to blink . . .

To look beyond in that flashing instant

See the other side of what was set before us

The Other World by faith inside the speck of salt

Fit to send a further rain of starry tears

In truth’s work . . . done . . . cascading over the rim

Cleared . . . and cut and polished

In diamond drops of knowledge lost

Changed . . . and lit and piercing

In agate pearls of new-sight gained

                   *

- From: Arkiahh Dreaming; The Ragged Writings of Everland; Volume 3 

There is No Emptiness inside Silence . . .

THERE IS NO emptiness inside silence

Nor is there any---in places where one fancies nothing is

There is no such thing as nothing

My every emptiness was replete with peace

As if it had eaten away what had first been there---

Of unbelief---of it having any content

And it was now full up

With all that I had believed for it to have

And I saw---it was true--

Saw, too, how slow I am to take true hold

Of what I am given but miss out on---daily---

I shame the star of day!

And I saw the setting sun

Reflecting on the horizon of the east

Blushing in his daily dealings there

With unbelieving earth---

Fallen---

In her semi-orbed sinking once again

Into that darkness she could only know

When she was lost to him

Though even for so short a time

Would they never find in silence

Their spirit won while they had no light

But that it would peep up at daybreak

And fill the universe

                    *

- From:  Arkiahh Dreaming; The Ragged Writings of Everland; Volume 3

              

                                            

                     

Set Adrift On a Sea Of Light . . .

Set adrift on a sea of light

Only let its tides take you where they will

Trust to that great underlying Thing

That you be washed up on some friendly shore---

Whether rough, rocky, even treacherous

Look at it not with the eyes of an old world but new

Even, hardly shelving, fine sandy beaches

Can be deceiving---

Strong counter-currents taking you out and out

As you attempt to land

Tens of times, perhaps, you have drifted

Upon the mirrored surface of your own subject

Felt it, enjoyed it, but shrinking from its beauty

Afraid to find it verify the virtue you deny is in you

But, it is true, so it is there---

Though you quickly look away---

In false pride ashamed of your own outworked gift---

The task set before you

So infused in your every subconscious thought

So, a part of you

That it cannot be separated to see itself

Without the agony of the soul reflecting mirror

Upon the sea of light---

The raw of self afraid of its own beauty

For it knows it is corrupted---  

Though no one has told it

But there is another who would be same

And he looks at you

And sees nothing but himself gifted you

Take every ounce of courage---

Look deep---

You are the reflection of love divine

And the object of his selfless adoration---

The apple of his eye

                                    *

-From:  Arkiahh Dreaming; The Ragged Writings of Everland; Volume 3;
("The Task Set...A Sea Of Light;" & "Set Adrift On A Sea Of Light:" dedicated to Raymond J. Scott.)

The Task Set... A Sea Of Light . . .

To always do as you are given to do---

It was your gift---

And through the sunshine as though it were

A sea of light flowing in from another country

Pursue the sight of that thing which delights

And for a closer look, not to do as others would

Nor be afraid you may do as another would---

When the thing suits you it is right

You need but to command your field

And your sense of beauty will do the rest

To fill in, create, and complete the task you are set

And you will find those fragile new filaments

Of the life which comes so naturally to you

Take on a certain glory in the constant piercing rain

And form for you, as---scent, music, light, do---

Symbols of spirit, intangible, but real---

All the colours of the prism

Un-see-able but for that fine hurting rain

That split you---gifted you

These working things were still themselves---

Even woven together---

The scent of that damask rose

Swathes of gold in which was music

And the sunlight which made it---

Yet, at the same time, were avenues

Of a glory beyond themselves and where to walk

                                    *

-From:  Arkiahh Dreaming; The Ragged Writings of Everland; Volume 3;
("The Task Set...A Sea Of Light;"  &  "Set Adrift On A Sea Of Light:" dedicated to Raymond J. Scott.)

The White Goose . . .

I saw a child walk forward into a field

A level land it was with marshes, reeds, and waterways

In every direction your eye took you, it was all level

Not a mountain, or a hill; not a knoll, nor even a mound

And the sky was very large; larger than the fear of being

Too small when the answer comes

And the clouds folded their arms about her

Though they were very high that day –  

The silent witnesses that above keep watch

I saw the child stand still and gaze awhile

Hosts of hungry hearts were with her

All so small she thought they could fit inside her

That she should carry them and take them further

She had suffered so there was room     

The emptier she got the more a bearer she became

And the more room in her for more

She belonged to that which looked for her

Which she never named

I saw the child turn and face the other way

I followed her gaze and I saw what she saw

A wild goose a little distance away

Not a farm goose lost, but it was all white

One wing hung down, broken she thought

Instant her passion to gather it into her embrace

And there it was, at her feet, fearless, tame

In its eye the sweetest part of every hurt thing        

In its heart the cry of every suffering creature

I saw the child stagger beneath the weight of answers

The white goose cradled in her arms

If I could paint a picture of the healing of the many 

There it would be, a child holding a goose

Both as simple as each other, blind to what wasn’t love

If I could hold a picture, and a dream of the passion

There it would be, a child cradling her goose

Both lost in the better part of pain, and found in its gift

Both saving one another journeying home

                           *

Alone . . .

ALONE . . .

And almost not lonely

Cast aside . . .

But only waiting

Dropped like a plummet line

Measuring vanity

Stripped like scapegoat

Assessing deceit

Stretched out cut in half

Mirroring souls

Pain in inner wealth

Bereft of friends

                     *

-From:  Arkiahh Dreaming; The Ragged Writings of Everland; Volume 3