Published: 7 May 2025

The meaning of rocks

The first dilemma the seeker of truth must face,
how will I know which rock is mine, which is best,
my spirit rock, the one meant to be my guide?

These are legitimate questions, but misleading.
One must ask what will lead me to my rock?
Am I prepared to serve one or many rocks,
how must I engage with my rock to know I am for it?

The second dilemma is most subtle and profound.
How do I worship my rock so I find worship of myself?

Think of the rock as a mirror. Now, throw the mirror in running
water. Let it be caught and carried away. The water and the mirror are one.
You cannot look for your reflection within it. That is gone forever.
So begins your spiritual evolution.

The third dilemma is so commonplace, the novice
may laugh. It is anything but common, and hence most important.

I have achieved perfect happiness with my rocks. They speak
to me with the voice of my mother, I hear my father’s song within.
I am at peace and content. What more do I require, what should I do?

More Poetry:

tattoo

tattoo the outline of love onto your imagination
etch your name on swirling winds, blow away
the sand of the desert to see what is written beneath
erase your epitaph, replace it with a date
of your choosing; ink is mightier than the world

now that you see

now that you see
her naked in her beauty
do you understand
the love at her command

Stereopticon Of Autumn

parallel clouds incise carmine and burgundy
brazen pink, sultry purple, jewels, fine wines

russet dry bushes vainly weave
in field of golden straw
that lay down long ago

Canoe

Curve of gunwales, pair of lips that skirt a kiss,
point into the wind, and cut through like a beautiful
smile cuts through a room of empty compliments;
try to keep up, you are tested on the crest of each wave,
the full mouth of your canoe sings into the storm,
you must propel both into the words of its song.

Hallowe’en 2025

Carved flickering monstrous faces, magic
light bends trees with molten sneers,
street bobs with pumpkin globes,
channel markers to guide the dread.

Notebook

I no longer trust notebooks,
they are not reliable.
I have lost too many;
I grieve each one.
I cannot commit to another,
I have lost too much:

Related

tattoo

tattoo

tattoo the outline of love onto your imagination
etch your name on swirling winds, blow away
the sand of the desert to see what is written beneath
erase your epitaph, replace it with a date
of your choosing; ink is mightier than the world

read more
Stereopticon Of Autumn

Stereopticon Of Autumn

parallel clouds incise carmine and burgundy
brazen pink, sultry purple, jewels, fine wines

russet dry bushes vainly weave
in field of golden straw
that lay down long ago

read more

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