THE CHOIR OF MEADOWLARK HILL
It began with a glimmer, a sliver of light.
In a matter of minutes the glow was right.
And the Meadowlark sang its song.
Another Lark………… another, again.
A feathery chorus was now on hand
As The Boy mimicked their song .
More Meadowlarks sang along.
And The Boy became a man.
The Year was not New. It was warm,
There was dew as the day took form
Like a voice from Heaven
The boy of eleven,
Joined the choir of Meadowlark Hill.
This morning was more than a day in the life,
This newborn man
Met the day now rife
With the pleasance of Trill
On The Hill of The Larks.
On The Hill of The Man.
A humble young Man
Said Thank You.
Thank You he said again.
Again and again and again.
THE REST OF YOU
Untie the knot and soften your glare
What you think is there is Knot.
What you thought was writ as laissez faire
Was read but green with rot.
Untie the Knot and soften your glare
Giggle and coo.
What you thought you heard was never said
What you failed to hear was You.
Untie the Knot and soften your glare.
Empty you mind
(Its rude to stare)
Allow the moment to be
To The Rest Of You.
To The Rest
IS THERE A GOD?
“Is there a God?” I ask myself.
If so, what Powers does God possess that I do not?
Love? Forgiveness? The Memory of all past and future events?
And then I wonder…
When I die will I awaken to discover that my memory is much improved and that I no longer have any questions, anything to fear?
Will I Realize that I am The Source of Love and Forgiveness?
Will I now know that All Life Forms are but Momentary Expressions of the One and Only Life?
(Wasn’t there something about “faster than a speeding bullet”?)