Duality

This morning, I wander back into the maze

One foot before the other.

My skin registers

Caressing clumps of reeds

And my conviction that their touch is unknowing, trembles

As their Pandoran tendrils arrive;

The way they resist parting at the last moment

I begin to imagine Gaia,

Her fecund hairs all about me

Pulsing in veneration of our Great Source:

Guiding me home

Reminding me

I am my Father’s son

But of this Earth too.

…Guide me Father

To incorporate the living and the dead

The spirit and the flesh

The ordered and chaotic

Help me, as your son and like your son, the King

To redeem the opposites that bear me

Which beguile us at whiles on this

Your Mother Earth

Fruit of the vine and work of Godly hands

It will become for us, our spiritual home

And we will dwell in the House of the Lord forever

For what do we fear: Failure or Greatness?

The sand is cold beneath my feet

50,000 leagues straight down

To plumb its depths would mean Hades

But oh to know the secrets they hold therein

And Oh! To know this great body from which our own spring

Flesh from flesh, clay from clay

Ashes to ashes

Dust to dust

But energy is neither created or destroyed

We may break down in ordered fashion

Or in disarray

The choosing is in the alignment with the virtues over fleshy impulses

For pleasure or vice

And in the choosing lies the story of the sacrificial King (Tree of Life)

The Greatest Ever Told

For good timber does not grow through ease…

When we too are called to the slaughter (non duality)

We must answer with chin high, trunk erect

That phallic courage which abandoned our ancestors:

May it return like Thor’s thunder, vengeful in the making

May it cover us in its sureties

Bathe our limbs in its light

Enshrouded by storm clouds

Appearing to mere mortals like the gods of old

And well it may be that we become – God willing –

Higher even than the angels,

Those powers and principalities, scoffed at as evil and

Erased from the picture

When the truth is we were born for their greatness

In Christ, Holy Maleldil

Grant us your vision

Help us not to shy away from what you hold in store

For the Children of the Field

Gardners Wanted

All is quiet on the Eastern Front

The birdlife in its temerity

Knows us to blame for its absence

For all its wailing, flailing cries amongst the undergrowth

We bulldozed around, over, through

And left them the bill.

Even now I wander from the path

And risk the lives of myriads unknown

Help me Lover not to stray

But bury my feet in your cold, fathomless earth

Remind me I am also made:

Fearfully and wonderfully

Like these avian cousins

Who even now peer at me, heads cocked, looks askance

Amongst blooms of flowers I have not known in this life

Peeking in my direction from among native reeds

They call my name for the first time

And yet how could this be

When I have walked this graveyard all along?

Help me to find the pearls, the petals, the glimmer of wings

When my eyes search instead for machines

Remind me once more,

Of the quantum, psychedelic leaps

That perception takes

Once You and I are allowed to be joined

Groom and blood-washed Bride…

If we become again like babes

Children in faith, open in hearts

May the ground bear us wonders

And may we be wary enough to heed the call

For even from the salty cold earth

Come imaginings undreamed of

And thickets of insight

Wreathed in majesty

A sign of Man’s royalty

Under God

For through Him, in Him and with Him

All of nature is redeemed

And the gardeners who made themselves redundant

Shall enquire within

A Prayer Against Folly

Grant me O God

The courage to seize awe and inspiration

And to know the sand on which I tread as holy ground

Help me to love and be loved

And to love who I am in You

Don’t let me turn down the bandwidth of You

In favour of affection, security

Possession or obsession

Help my ways always to be your ways

Help me value myself enough

My community, family, partner…

So that my north star is fixed

And I do not batter my head against a wall unduly

What Comes Next?

But what then, once humbled, can we expect of our heavenly roles?

Do you not wonder if the Saints already serve,

At cosmic outposts long since abandoned by those that fell?

At Day’s End

Two ears and a pair of eyes

Above the grass line

Searching for that final feast, at day’s end

A gradient of orange and pastels overhead

Black lines, fast tomorrows

Everything is drinkable here

But which is the water which nourishes?

Where are those holy wells and shrines of yesteryear?

Which nourished a nation,

Which warm my blood and

The memories of a bygone time?

The boy-wonder, with robin hood guile

Who flew over the face of the sun

And though he pulled back more often than not

He found himself to be where he is

And liked what he found there.

Turn then,

Most gracious version of myself

Thine eyes of understanding upon me

And show unto me thy vision

Of the fruit of the sacred womb:

Insight, Truth, Logos,

The final reality.

Show me how to score my song

With verses from its scriptures

And not to borrow from the translations I distrust

Come to me, O Holy One

Most final, clear, sinless source

Open the Doors of my Perception

And lead me not into temptation

But deliver me from lust, from loneliness too

And the compulsions therein

For thine is the Kingdom

And mine is the youth

But not forever

Amen