Gratefully dedicated to the spirit of the Amazon, Madre Ayahuasca.
(written in 2014)
I call on the broken hearts!
I call on the broken hearts!
I call on the broken hearts!
I call on all the broken hearts.
Just then,
The little sound
Remembered:
Home.
(written in 2014)
I call on the broken hearts!
I call on the broken hearts!
I call on the broken hearts!
I call on all the broken hearts.
I call on broken hearts across all time and across space
I call on all the buried memories to open and dis-close
the moments, when the heart felt breaking
and stay - right there.
I call on shattered hearts not to be mended, comforted or forgotten
I call on wounded hearts not to forgive or be forgiven
I call on violated hearts, not take revenge, nor be avenged
I call on all those broken hearts to stay - right there
I call the hearts thus broken: weave a carpet,
a tapestry of moments in all times,
allow the mind to trace its patterns and to write
a very special chapter in the book of life.
And trees, I see, dolphins and lions,
lambs, pigeons, dogs and rocks and roses
Yes, suns, moons, galaxies and mother planets,
old man rivers, ancient ocean wombs.
Youthful women, pretty maidens, babies, boys and honest men
kings and poets, elders, scoundrels,
whores and virgins, popes and priests,
CEOs, stock market brokers, film stars, soldiers, banksters, cops,
I challenge you!
Lay bare the secrets of your pain and all
its raging depths and pity shallows truthfully revealed,
I call on all you broken hearts to break - at least once more,
so finally we can be one, as We desire.
Depths and shallows shall
break ever deeper and
into the One.
Remembrance -
Echoes whisper,
rise as thunder
pierce the ear
and cleanse receptive airs and minds. -
Silence. Silence? - Silence!
Silence, humble
silent and peaceful
hearts
will mend.
Gratefully dedicated to the spirit of New Zealand,
the Wairua of Aotearoa!
(written in 1986, 3 years after immigrating there)
A little sound
Once went out from the silence
As from a vibrant womb.
On its journey it met
Other whispers,
Harboring other dreams.
No-one remembers today,
I call on all the buried memories to open and dis-close
the moments, when the heart felt breaking
and stay - right there.
I call on shattered hearts not to be mended, comforted or forgotten
I call on wounded hearts not to forgive or be forgiven
I call on violated hearts, not take revenge, nor be avenged
I call on all those broken hearts to stay - right there
I call the hearts thus broken: weave a carpet,
a tapestry of moments in all times,
allow the mind to trace its patterns and to write
a very special chapter in the book of life.
And trees, I see, dolphins and lions,
lambs, pigeons, dogs and rocks and roses
Yes, suns, moons, galaxies and mother planets,
old man rivers, ancient ocean wombs.
Youthful women, pretty maidens, babies, boys and honest men
kings and poets, elders, scoundrels,
whores and virgins, popes and priests,
CEOs, stock market brokers, film stars, soldiers, banksters, cops,
I challenge you!
Lay bare the secrets of your pain and all
its raging depths and pity shallows truthfully revealed,
I call on all you broken hearts to break - at least once more,
so finally we can be one, as We desire.
Depths and shallows shall
break ever deeper and
into the One.
Remembrance -
Echoes whisper,
rise as thunder
pierce the ear
and cleanse receptive airs and minds. -
Silence. Silence? - Silence!
Silence, humble
silent and peaceful
hearts
will mend.
Gratefully dedicated to the spirit of New Zealand,
the Wairua of Aotearoa!
(written in 1986, 3 years after immigrating there)
A little sound
Once went out from the silence
As from a vibrant womb.
On its journey it met
Other whispers,
Harboring other dreams.
No-one remembers today,
When it was first shot!
Entered the orbits of doubt!
But some day
It was seen circling,
Ranting and raving!
The winds rushed by
To the speaking of this long word
And carried the little sound
On thundering wings
And into silence.
Silence
Answered with a sigh.
Just then,
The little sound
Remembered:
Home.
No comments:
Post a Comment