The books sit there staring, deserted,

wondering when I will return to open them again

after such late nights spent together, searching, seeking,

Knowledge and ways to impress the professor.

 

Now, what will you do?

Remain on shelves, or flee to bookshops in a cloud,

hoping others will spend nights with them,

dreaming of the road to another future.

The books hold a part of my life now,

student friends, the coffee meetings,

study groups, advisor meetings.

All to be filed under previous education.

 

I admire you now, for the meaning and the journey; never to let go

For love is an eternal father,

and faith a mother, to guide us in a temporary life.

Then I am both, yet one.
Let me notice my soul today.

When I was young the tree provided shelter when it rained,

kept me cool in the summer sun.

Tall and handsome, each year I could rely on the tree to

be there for me.

 

Soaring, protective, he lured me towards him,

and the other elm trees.

To stay with them, living every day in confidence

to base my life around loving branches.

 

Then the disease came, gradual at first.

A change of color, attitude, leaves not as bright,

then eventually nothing.

No leaves for cover, from the sun or the rain,

Kindling for branches, would break if I slipped.

 

Alone, I am wet, when it rains.

cold when it snows.

Hot in the summer’s sun.

Yet you are still there. Planted but now inert.

 

Then one day I spy a shoot,

coming from the base of the tree.

There is hope.

 

No leaves for cover, from the sun or the rain,

Kindling for branches, would break if I slipped.

Alone, I am wet, when it rains.

cold when it snows.

Hot in the summer’s sun.

Yet you are still there. Planted but now inert.

Then one day I spy a shoot,

coming from the base of the tree.

There is hope.

 

It’s snowing in my mind again.

As thoughts float through my day,

cold flakes hit my eye dissolving into fake tears,

showing my limited powers to retain their form

or control them in some way;

forcing them to become a fully paid up member of Me.

 

Yet at the same time they contribute to the snowstorm

which is my life today.

 

As the flurry continues, bewitchingly they fall to the ground,

each one different, but now enjoined.

Laying together, no longer flakes but now a delicate cover,

flakiness dissolved and intermingled one to another,

retaining uniqueness, but now something else.

Thoughts merged, in a pure appearance; the white carpet of nature.

 

Transforming beauty is revealed by a single mind,

a reality of thoughts combined.

Releasing tears this time; streaming, uncontrollable tears of joy.

Love is not definable;

But is detectable by its absence.

Walking seemingly aimlessly, in the garden of the world,

unsuspecting, without particular agenda,

drifting with a friend, your lover, even new acquaintances.

Suddenly, all is changed.

 

An unseen beam of knowing happens,

And something is right with the world just then.

A moment to change all, a timeless feeling, never felt before.

Not a shape-shifting experience, rather true nature revealed.

 

Time is not stopped, but made irrelevant, exiting stage left for now.

Replaced by the presence of knowing and of full communion with all,

just for an instant.

Like first love,

an encounter with God,

the birth of a child,

all collected,

and somehow fused into … true understanding.

We foretaste our own spiritual life.

 

This is not mere knowing, but a glimpse of God.

 

It’s snowing in my mind again.

As thoughts float through my day,

cold flakes hit my eye dissolving into fake tears,

showing my limited powers to retain their form

or control them in some way;

forcing them to become a fully paid up member of Me.

 

Yet at the same time they contribute to the snowstorm

which is my life today.

Stopping to talk, and kneeling in the aisle as the school play is about to start,

Words were spoken,

but carefully exchanged.

The tall, skinny woman still had the remnant of a ten year old face,

like those patrolling the auditorium, getting ready for the event.

 

But her unspoken words held the real sadness,

not wanting to discuss what happened;

Yet, as a car at a red light,

appeared ready to move forward when given the right signal.

While talking, her summer dress brushed against me,

an indicator of times past. Perhaps never to return.

 

The pleasantries continued, and nothing of importance was spoken.