a knowing smile

The truth in her eyes
is revealed in a look
that dispels any lies
the truth had mistook.

In her innocent,
knowing smile,
reflects an inner resolve,
that would make
any truth that’s worthwhile,
materially evolve.

In that knowing smile,
lives a playful expectation,
scripted in divine style,
and written within
her human imagination.

a far away look

if I have a
far away
look in my eyes
you can be sure that
I am far away.
It’s no disguise.

No matter
how close to you
I may seem
I am only as close
as I can be
in my waking dream.

utter madness

Lost in the
falsities of needing security,
in a downward spiraling world,
where most
seek others’ approvals
and a sense of importance,
never having control
over resulting discordance
between mind and soul,
and that makes for
the kind of sadness
that is really
a form of utter madness.

The God-seed awakened

She smiled,
when she saw
within the very depths
of her own soul,
that the being,
inside of her,
is meditating her.

The God-seed awakened,
as the meaning of life
rearranged its themes,
old ones are forsaken,
and everything is of a
substance my spirit dreams.
———–
What next,
will capture my fancy
and rouse my imagination?
I know, when I
start getting antsy,
something new,
invites my participation.

Once my
imagination bestows
tones of reality,
and it feels natural,
to wear;
and if I view the world
from there,
and it is from
where I dwell,
then it matters less,
what’s sensed,
as my vision continues
to outwardly swell.

All things are
spiritually called
before they come to pass,
and once imagination’s
script is installed,
everything needed will,
most assuredly amass.

with grasses and flowers

Silently,
I bent down
to be closer,
closer to the ground.
Then I sat in the grass,
amongst the flowers,
focusing on life’s
wonderful mystical powers.

My attention centered
in both heart and mind,
was a valid say,
which inspires
imagination’s motion,
and brought about a day,
both gentle and kind,
with a reddish,
blue-green sky
and salty spray from
the far-away ocean.

The truth took hold
and began to unfold,
in a most natural way.
I’m not running hot or cold,
because my experience today
shows, that awareness
is the potter’s clay,
and feeling ‘natural’ is the mold.

Suddenly,
the grasses and flowers
were talking to me
about their traditions
and experiences
in the great mystery.

And on this
beautifully designed,
sunny afternoon,
I was given a truth,
that my logical mind
could no longer impugn.

It was all so real,
with color, smell,
taste, sound and feel,
that there can be no appeal
by those that are
tradition-bound.
For the truth is,
it’s imagination that,
makes the world go round.

https://ello.co/richokun/post/yj5mc0_j3x7nmdrk6wy1ig

#poetry #painting #spiritual #nature #love

Nature Boy

He looked
into the pond,
and the pond
looked back, into him.
His mind
could no longer
stay fixed in the
proper and prim.
Walking barefoot
on the mossy grass
and leaves,
across the forrest floor.
Climbing rocks
and from the tops
of the tallest trees,
let out his loud,
wild, animal roar.
His hair was all
tussled and grimy
but he didn’t care,
he has nature’s slimy,
but oh, so, lovely,
tones and rhythms to wear.

When I held a brush for the first time

When I held a brush
for the very first time,
a warm glow in a dizzying rush,
defined my new paradigm.

It was talking to me
in some language that
I spiritually sensed,
and could somehow understand.
Putting thoughts in my head
of people, places and events,
and a feeling
that I had it all planned.

Dipping deep into
colors that seemed endless;
flourishing in a sea of
tint, hue, shade light and tone.
Dancing its drip on a canvas,
my own story was told.
Patterns were revealed
the more I would surrender
and yield,
for as if by magic,
the contents they traced,
emerged from the invisible fabric
hidden within the empty space.

Recognizable forms,
were self-shaping
from some power
I couldn’t see,
although there
was certainly no mistaking
that this power
was coming from me.

Then I scribbled
some words upon a page,
writing in a tongue,
not of mind, but of a heart
that was soulfully engaged
in a song to be sung.

And so it was,
that he rediscovered
what he had known, long ago,
that his art,
was to free his love heard
from within his head,
down to his tippy-toe.

Mother’s Day is EveryDAY!

I will;
build you a home,
birth you in that bed,
defend against
any dangers sown,
and keep you safe,
warm, and fed.
I will;
love you,
teach you all I know,
prepare you for
the road ahead,
as I watch you grow.
And when all
is done and said,
set you free,
when you are ready to go.

Path of least resistance

I was walking along
a path in the woods
and noticed it’s natural
contours, and curves
and how it wound around
trees and stones,
like rivers and streams.
I saw doubtless evidence
that the most natural path,
is that of least resistance.

I came to rest,
closed my eyes,
and then a darkness
overtook the forest.
When I opened my eyes
there, was a girl,
in the black of night.

I saw how easily
she sent her subtle light
to dance in the flowers,
and how she
brought them to life,
animating a glow,
as one of her powers.
She didn’t lend
any effort to enter,
save for the surrender to a flow,
from her inner center.

Then I realized that,
it was me,
I am giving life to that scene,
and everything I was seeing
was of the many worlds in-between.

Birth of a songstress

Birth of a songstress

In a drowsy haze,
she plainly heard,
what sounded to her
like a songbird.

That melodic cadence
broke the singularity of time,
while her attendant thoughts
offered a paradigm.

The sound was ringing
all inside of her head,
so she just started singing
what she heard instead.

“I must sing.
I gotta sing
what I heard in my head,
from that little songbird”
she melodically said.

#songbird #poetry #painting #spiritual #love