As the ears of crickets are near their knees
so those God-surrendered hear angels in the breeze.
Angels leave miracles in the large sized begging bowls of dumpsters.
Unencumbered the vine of cucumber climbs dead branch umber
pouring forth tendrils of trust while others slumber.
The mind is a radio dispatcher which through prayer sends angels
to those in need. Yet her heart.. need do nothing at all..
the angels respond.. to her unspoken calls.
At Blossom when they play martial music, ..flowers are surprised
for God does not arm blooms.
The wind reminded a tree...the Indian Cigar on the heath
in total giving to bequeath..... to the little ones crawling beneath.....
a subtly fragrant blossom wreath.
Raise the blind.. the room floods with light Plug in the lamp.. gone the night.
Light the cotton.. it's gone in fire. God's mercy does fill every desire
Round wonders flow from the tip of a magic wand.
Spherical music flows from the top of a baton.
A world of talk flows from the metal of a plug.
Angels pay back infinitely.... kindness to a bug.
He thought 'it's just another water mirage'.. but it was the water mirror
of the rising sun.. in her reflections creating miracles
The bee named Hector... needs no visible lector....to read him the sector where blooms of great nectar.... pour forth fragrant vectors
The spiritually handicapped.....need access ramps for easier entry into heaven
From the Maker's majesty manifest myriad mangoes
Because in God her taproot is grounded....with love for all she does upwell....and so each of her heart's desire fruits....on her soul tree in satiety swells.
God's highlighted synchronicities.....often come in threes..... trinities of simplicity
When attacks come to auras spherical.....which transmute all to spiritual weapons boomerang upon the senders. This is spiritual physics, of laws of miracles
He thought 'it's just another water mirage'.. but it was the water mirror
of the rising sun.. in her reflections creating miracles
With the sun's grace and of mist just a trace
the spruce ravels green lace out of pure aqua space
What a wonder to see.. on the very same tree..
fresh blooms of youth and wise sweet fruit.
We too can turn water into unfermented purple wine
by watering often our allgiving grape vines.
Every sea is a Red Sea cleaving..parting for Moses with his sailclad clipper All he need do is embark
The sweetest grapes grow on oldest vines
He who spun the sun.. the one which spins peaches... every one
He who weaves the waves He who holds every dropp of all rivers
will carry us all back to the land of love.
Over the threshold.....comes sun's freshgold Through the portal....spills his light immortal
In through the door.....Sol's firepour Wide now the gate..for destiny's date.
Miracle points: The lion skull in the desert shelters a bee hive. Sea water through the aeons
has made of rock a rookery. Suffering has carved new caves in the heart.
In Tara's empty space miracles take place.
Like falling rain oer lilyleaf tripped Like pure moon into bright cloud slipped
Like setting sun into calm sea dipped did Jesus' soul come to Mary.
Like communion chalice sipped Like the river oer fallsbrim lipped
Like dewdropp out of buttercup dripped was Jesus' soul born of Mary.
God the artist can totally change his oil paintings faster than a star's twinkling... faster than clouds moon-winking
What was God's greatest miracle? to turn the CAT in caterpillar to the FLY in butterfly? No.. God's eyes were misty when God made Christy for God loved her so
Friends with humor can melt away tumors... of babyboomers
He has rescued so many animals, his ark would have sunk
long ago... but divine grace keeps afloat his sanctuary boat.
The mathematics of masters is that they need no mammon, no medium of money
to make and manifest their multiplying magnifying miracles. Their hearts summon manna.
Their souls grow mangoes.
Rock carving rivers over time are trapped by their own liquid chisels.
God the Sculptor has often changed their and our courses.
God can a pear impeach in a tree of peach and cherries entwine on old grape vines
Nataraj did prayers answer and He healed the invasive cancer... now she's once again a dancer
Night is the husher He in the moon ushers Each of her rays an endless light gusher.
The full moon poured pitcher after pitcher of coconut milk into the sea..
and the sea.....she silvered it all.
The full moon opalescent.. has lost weight.. is now a crescent
A queen wears stolen crown jewels shining bright heisted from India.They glow in the light. The moon thief has also taken light.
She does herself array in sun owned rays.
MOTHERING AND FATHERING
You are the nectar the hummingbird the clover. You are the bloom, the bee, the Oerhoverer. You are the beloved the Love and the Lover.
Our hearts leapt each night when he walked in the door.. Sunset was our second sunrise.
Since he has left we have missed him every hour. Our earth sunset
will be Reunion's sunrise.
Eve angel does not evangelize. Mystic power flows from the lovelight in her eyes.
A tree stormbent horizontal.. had 7 parallel branches growing
straight up... like a parent who sacrificed for her children
Saints know the love of 1000 followers does not equal the love of God.. Many mothers know the love of many biological or adopted children does not equal that of the beloved husband
Only the most nurturing and empathic could help a cat live happily for 23 years.
The silver rule: to do some good for others. The golden rule.. to love others as we love ourselves. Some rare ones follow the diamond rule..
they silently love their families more than themselves.
Unlike the queen bee who stayed in 1 place because her wings were clipped by honey thieves, the mother bird stayed during the forest fire because her babies could not fly.
In spring he took them on Mayrides. In summer he took them on Dayrides.
In the fall he gave them hayrides. In winter he took them on sleighrides.
Many mothers and every tree are statues of nonliberty.. rooted by their love
En and Em make verbs from nouns as in enjoy and in embark Love too moves verbs
from confined nouns as it gives the rooted the wings of the lark.
MUSIC AND ART
As a youth he read only poetry, a bee supping only on nectar, an angel sipping ambrosia.
Hexagonal are honeycombs and snowflakes
and the columns in the Giant's Causeway that basalt makes
April south wind stirs October leaves of red into a mobile with no visible threads
Unlike a freshman's trunk, overpacked, clothes spilling out,
the epigrams of Gore Vidal... have a world in few words.
River carved Grand Canyon.. neither captured by a master's oils or a child's crayons
Frogs croaking, raindrops softly dropping, woodpecker sculpting, lark singing... in perfect
harmony.... the symphony of God
The wind's fingers stroke the tree harp and the tree's green fingers in turn stroke the wind.
God's creations: the notes of Mozart and John Moats' heart
The enraptured woodpecker raps his rhapsodies, in the apple trees and not the bush of raspberries
This master of jazz is Mine, said the Lord of all Jasmine
Like a green river valley is each of her poems. Strung together by the river, the nonviolent garland... takes us to the sea.
The sun strikes the icicle wands and they flow into flowers. The sun sparks the icicle batons
making the music of melting asterisking them with miracle drops
The applause for Pavarotti.. is as beautiful as his voice..
for it is the sound of many hearts beating as one each sending love through his hands.
Like bells on a sleigh harness are white pepper seeds strung
in the inner chambers of the jade belltower.
The bird orchestra has retired for the evening.. Later crickets leave off their chorus
But still the treefrogs played tirelessly for us
The ornithologist described the lark's 'plain appearance'. It was not
his fickle eyes but the ears of all who waited for her song.
When the night is most still then the nightingale's trill spontaneously spills
The artist paints the lily.. water colors dry on the canvas
.. but the lilyroots remain wet
The present's fleecy cloud wrapping is removed revealing
the jewel Sun streaming His own ribbons.
Poets you love are rungs on a ladder...
for your morning glory poems they become a lattice
Treeharps play without strings... nightingales begin to sing...bees forego their weapon stings.....squirrels leap and twirl and swing.... drawn by hidden sacred spring
With discipline they queue before dawn cue
tuning their orchestra slowly..to sing to me and to you..
the note choir gathers sunfire.. as they sing Bird Gospel without surcease
of His constant providing, His Love, His Joy, His Peace
The sun does not preach as he the peach tree does impeach
Some Muslims think Christians are infidels. Some Christians think Muslims are going to hell.
Some Jews think you're only chosen if a Cohen, Levi, Marx or Rosen. Some Adventists think they're the only elect. Some Hindus think they're the most select. God loves all equally as
the sun pours forth his rays equally in all directions
The preacher was saved from a sermon about 'the london derriere' when someone
whispered to him it was 'The Londonderry Air'
'Harrison and Henry machinegunned the stars.. but starlight kept glowing
.and they gave a new meaning to 'shooting stars' as their own stars continued to climb.
Why do I mind more the unripeness in others and me than I mind the green fruit on a sweet tree? Not until God's appointed hour will fruit become beesweet and not be sour
A child's cries in the store disappear with a cruel parent walking him out the door
but....the cries remain in the heart
Humane slaughter.. an oxymoron.. from those who don't
know.. oxen aren't morons
As small flowers bloom at the tips of glaciers so do
unlucky children survive around cold parents.
Crocodiles shed crocodile tears which blend invisiblly with riverdrops
when they are underwater. They cry perhaps when they are hunted.
Margaret, when we see the Pieta, we think of you. But the
frozen marble of pain has turned to rising joy.
The ice does not in pain scream when in the sun he melts into stream nor does he scream when he climbs into spiraling steam.
We need rain to make a rainbow...through drops goes the glow...
of the palate of pastels which says 'goodbye to hell'
As Peter Sellers playing Dr Strangelove would with his left arm keep lowering his right arm's heil..so did the paid pawns in the media occasionally forget to hide the strings
of their puppet masters before the people prevailed over the butcher-pharma-war profiteer and petroplutocracy
Cherish the hard cherrystones.. they are the chariots of new scarletrubycrimson cherries.. From their boundless charity come new cherry trees For them.. every year is a jubilee
God answers and unfolds all from time's yarn ball
Melting are the ice towers of Babel into the streams with their cheerful babble
and their iridescent rapids-born bubbles...as they flow on unscrolling their Bibles of joy
There is no crucifixion for the rivers flowing to the sea. Waterfalls
are a joyful experience for the pure waters of Spirit.
Mother bird, why worry. Don't scurry. Don't hurry. No flurry.
Your babies... they are safe.
Birds sit watching from the theatre's brick parapets waiting for me to
finish eating and feed them the rest
Why do doctors call their customers 'patients'? Is it to obscure the financial arrangement and the many hours wasted in waiting rooms for overbooked appointments?
Before the dandelions gold have their tents unrolled the black umbrella tents must unfold
To all beings manifests the mango tree... her manna gently and
gradually... Some rest as gifts in high grass baskets.
We too can turn water into unfermented purple wine
by watering now our greenleaved allgiving grape vines.
He was alive because on that day
in Niigata the skies were gray *
Those who tried to colonize Vietnam
have written on water.
61 died that day in the 1st infantry in Vietnam. Rows of bodybags, the
fruit of war.. drying in noonday sun.
Oh God to You we give thanks... that in time Polish horses... defeat
How many have been blinded burned bombed or blown apart
by Hitler, Churchill, puppet presidents or Bonaparte?
Weary worker ants rest on moss pillows grown by the pussywillows while a
family of ducks floats on lake billows
Pansies fringe the rusting panzers
Ivy and violets vy not with the violent.
As the unchanging blue waters of the lake reflect
the gold, crimson, pink and saffron of the changing fall
so the peaceful soul absorbs the ups and downs of those
in crisis in answer to God's call
Above a battle dark smokegrey and bloodcrimson in surprise
and silent contrast break pastels from the palate of sunrise.
The fruit tree groves of life randomly grow
but Arlington's deathbloom graves... are set in rows
a deep pool at every waterfall base
.. postcrisis waters of God's resting grace
Shakti has become shanti. Power has become peace
God is rearranging the stars into a special script for you...
a fortune cookie strip of joy. a secret message, a puzzle
There are the stars of purple framed night
streaming peace, pouring light
Some call war profiteer cartels
'the US' but we the people of America
from Sacramento to Schenectady
reject such lying syndecdoches
One by one in many countries they break through the ice of fear.. cups
of crocuses.. stand up in caucuses.. East to West from Africa to the
Caucusus and show their eternal allegiance to the maker of their sun:
Creator of all of us.
Those who wend their way on the opposite
side of the road are not our foes. Each stays within the
lines as peace on both sides goes.
One has to choose between bomber pilots' wings and the whirring help of angel wings
The wind lullabies the lilac looms and fireflies
As many like holy Uri Geller can with mindpower bend metal
so prayer and positive thought can defuse and melt weapons.
Downward falsified: war's casualty statistics... truth raped by aims sadistic
Divine Mother Kwon Yin sometimes veils her beauty
that it not create fear in her children.. fear to approach her
The wind lullabies the lilac looms and fireflies
The storm was full of menacing dark clouds.. hard cold rain..treecleaving lightning..
now it is over and in the twilight 3 rainbarrels brimful of rain.. shimmer in the starlit peace.
Atop them lattices of fallen leafy branch.. lifeboats for any country mice.
Beneath the morning star jewel.. arrive arrayed in gold the beams of dawn..
and though their swordshafts appear each other to pierce.. with crossfire and conflicting dreams
.. because they are made of light, they merge
When children are cremated by bombing their bodies' ashes require no enbalming
These innocent children of the poor.. now soldiers with the whole world on their exploited shoulders.. some of whom need to be resoldered
Nonviolent is the violet light which wakes us from the sleep of night. Gently comes the dawn's twilight each step taken oh so slight.
Worse than pedophiles is pedocide, abstractly bombing children from Florida computers
If a biologist teaches dissection is he a necrologist...
desensitizing teens to cruelty and killing, funneling them into
careers of animal carving, vivisection
Above, heaven's fields are a flaming flamingo feather pink while below palm trees'
flaming fronds fall set with people and animals on fire by bombs
a barberry bush with saffron leaves..... on its branches hang rows of crimson raindrops...
as if the bombing raids of the distant war had rained blood here
He was not drafted to warships but summoned to worship.. not to soldiers' gassing
by 'friendly fire' but called to the Higher Fire
Waves scalloped shield the scallops. Blue lips and cherrystones
hide protected by Neptune's throne.
POLITICS IS LOVE IN ACTION
In the Party Green welcome are all shades of Green except for the green in the burger's gangrene
He ends the blood of unjust wars. Red is his peaceward passion. He works to end all suffering.
Blue is his deep compassion. He always shows silent serenity. White is his shadeless dispassion.
Willow branch fingers trace in the pond painting the water.. sunset gold
As fog fragments and imagination's figments
swell trees and do new figs mint,
so every good wish is answered by God...
(yet 'the chains of gold bind as much as the chains of iron')
Where aqua sky meets deep blue sea, the hearth of the
orange sun was in the west. Through the night miraculously
the entire fireplace was moved to the east, as resistant
thoughts can join winners between dusk and dawn.
Rotting fruit contains living seeds which shelter infinite
Bright sunwands as they unfurl cause the chrysanthemum to uncurl
.. so cause loverays unbidden to ope heartchambers long hidden
During rain or after sunset, sunflowers have their heads down..
but mostly they keep their sunnier sides up
Because the water trough has several leaks
the apples on the tree nearby have rosier cheeksand Look! how have grown the lovely lilacs
because the roof does leak
Santa may have 1 sleigh, but Abba's sleighs are infinite..
endless is the pouring of their gifts.
It was not a peace officer's rooflight but the sun flashing
hello in the rear view mirror, saying the past of everyone
The mosquito was trying to be like the bee who avoided all blood including
A or B positive as he buzzed around being positive
A patch of moss moose-marred...where
the rain pooled in his print, mice make merry.. before
mirroring the Evening Star
The darkest before the dawn does the dew create
and rests the dormant doorman.
The cornucopia within cornstarred cobs and cones of pine
Out of great Nought, visualizing thought, electric blue prints
have for each wrought what she or he sought
.. what she or he sought...turning to 'be' from every 'ought'
(to the Kinneys of Korea and other points)
Every raindropp is a crystal ball
foretelling thoughts of perfect rainfall.
Electrically thoughts magnetize matter's tiny particles
as the skeleton of a sunken ship attracts barnacles.
The break of day! The crack of dawn! Look not at night's
shellshards but at the newbird sun!
What her omnipotent heart ordained, her obedient will obtained.
(to the mother of S and J Brunner)
When comes eternal noon? When soul turns around each no to on.
Rising waters in a quarry.. fill every niche and nave..
Spirit's rising waters grant each desire in heart cave.
A single silent green light empowered a line of awesome truck might. A single
band of pink dawning light
pushed back the entire greyblanket of night.
Can one brake the break of day? Can one brook the coming dawn?
When the pond was smashed by his clenched fist.. it became a cradle rocking for the little fish God transmutes anger into love
Sun rays weave Out of eternal ethers.... into purple heather... as tiny thought feathers... become love's tethers.. melding 2 together
We are chambered nautili.. in each new life in more spacious chambers we lie..
until we return to God... by and by
As rainarrows are released before the rain bow appears, thoughts precede action.
As God is infinite, universal, unconditional, perfect Love, all beings are written into The Book of Life.
Every mature tree from twig to root yearns to be home for flocks of birdfruit.
In the mountains...God has massed his thunder. Belief can hasten the power's breaking asunder.
You can reshuffle the deck of fate anytime. You can multiply the aces you are given..infinitely.
Peapicking, pecan pecking plum plucking, pear pickpocketing squirrel
packs his loot in his cheeks
Only a tiny line of blue says the sea is on the horizon. Only a tiny line of pink says the sun is about to be rising. Only a raindropp on a leaf but it reflects many stars.
Only a smile on the face sparks timely grace
The despised weed..the rejected wallflower..the most shaded place
Job seemingly God-abandoned... the ugly duckling..reindeer Rudolph before the foggy night
but now the square moves to trine and materializing dreams do them entwine
Blue spruce spires... their steeples point to blue star fire
Out of the sea the sun aborning Not adorned but all adorning
With His awesome light of morning Says to you 'Come! My Mavoorning! '
(to Ethel Lynch)
O God Dweller in the Heart of Every Being, release now and forever the joy latent in all
Jack in the Pulpit has taken up silence.. to his new sermon none said
'ahem'...many said 'amen'...
Pen chisel carves tunnel out of feelings' mine cavein
God and humans both know of love unreturned. The difference is: about this God is unconcerned.
Held the dew the concave butternut better than the convex buttercup
Dawn drawn dandelions sun-summoned... spread gold parasols
... another sundown will bring.. a diaspora of dandelion down
From all eyes shines God's light... from every human, bird, fish and mite
The mind of a genius is a sky piled high with lightning forked thunderclouds.
The desireless mind of a master is blue with nary a cloud.
She was not forced to walk the plank into the ocean of her Self... she was ready to jump
Deity winds blow into the Lungs, the Temple of Breath
Sipping from a teacup he mulled over the day's deeds... from a teacup brewed from red clover seeds
Trees of January like Job continue to lift their arms in prayer
though they are powerless, unable to speak or move, their leaves stolen.
He took off his boots, but still the discalced elephant
caused harm and so he decided to meditate in the pond.
As a telescope turns the pinprick of light into the jewel of Jupiter, meditation gives tangible proximity to God who indwells all
He feared when he died he would slide to hell down a slippery funnel but God told him he'd rise to him... through a lightfilled tunnel
The bees' buzzing omkar to blooming little stars
One thought Britannia once ruled the waves. Another thought: India rules the quiet depths.
The sun does nothing but meditate.. yet flow his rays in 360 cubed ways. He is focused on one point, but his energy transforms..all points.
As he saw.. his fears were allayed..for there was the sun
in mornlight arrayed.. there were the trees with springblooms sprayed....answered were the prayers.. that he had prayed
Sunrise does night shadows shatter.. for all sre Spirit
not their bodies' matter
Knowing that if he took any more animals in his ark would
sink, he began to pray.
Flowers don't chase bees. It is to the safe meditator at the treebase and not to the hunter that
the shy deer comes. Her serene quiet heart magnet.. like a crystal ball
invokes the form she desires.
As rivers slowly deposit their sands in the sea... and suddenly there is a new sandbar..
so God's angels stream slowly into our minds.. suddenly a complete vision appears
Faster than God answers when His Name is invoked are His
responses to cries of agony whether silent or sounded.
Dreams are messages in a bottle washed upon our shores from the ocean of God. They are script of the night seeded by angels.
Is it easier for meditaters to focus on a form than on the void?
How can one pinpoint infinity?
'They tangle the edge of the river with vines', to me in meditation said the Divine... not meaning that one should walls de-vine... but attachment reduces the current of shakti He reminds.
'Not in the morning (mourning) pond does the Lion wash his blood', He said to writer in meditation. So many meanings of this koan... one of which was that the evening pond, pink with the glow of the setting sun, does not reflect the blood on the lion's muzzle. Listeners should see only the divine in others.
The dawn is dewing. The awakened, doing. The bee is beeing. The yogi, being.
A willow grows by living waters but a lotus lily is by them surrounded
As the branchweave is a grid through which we see the sky
so does the mindgrid the One reality distort and divide
Only God is God fullblown. The rest are God in bud.
Visualizing gentle weather... billions together.. humanity becoming one bird flock