The Deepest Contemplation

Today I seek solace
In the silence
Of this inner sanctuary
The demanding world
Will have to wait
I have
Gone inside
To nourish my soul
The deepest contemplation
Only happens
When the door is closed.


in playful innocence did they dance

in such playful innocence
did they dance through this chaos
their bodies remembered
what it was like
before the veil fell upon them
no explanation
no reason
just the simple joy of being
love for it’s own sake
life being lived directly

ah! if only we could hold on to innocence
but each one of us falls for the same trick
as if the devil knows us all by name
and we each, one by one, fall into the same hole
and spend our lives
trying to climb out

my friend, cynicism and guilt, shame and denial
are the masks we have been tricked into wearing
they are not who we truly are
i took mine off
will you?


The Walls We Build

Must we close our fragile hearts
To the world
To protect our vulnerable selves
Must we erect our shields
And great walls of defense
And separate ourselves
From everything
That is too much to bear
Must we?
Even though those very hearts
Are the doors
To our humanity

The most beautiful quality of being human
Is found through the door of suffering.


i dont mind what happens

i gave up wanting anything to be any different
than the way it is
and rather than causing me to sink into
powerlessness and depression
it actually liberated me
into great freedom and compassion…

there is one line that,
if you digest it deeply enough,
will liberate you.

krishnamurti said, “i don’t mind what happens.’

when i heard that it blew my mind and changed my life

it still does.

The Sun

When the sun burst through the clouds
I rejoiced
And when it hid again
I felt downhearted
Until I realized it was not
The sun that had gone into hiding
But me

If happiness is sought
In things that come and go
It is not real
Find that which does not
Come and go
And make that
Your home.

seek no refuge

weary of the incessant prison chatter of the mind

he sought refuge in the ineffable

yet even there he found no peace, just escape

eventually he died to it all

and was resurrected as silence

it had all been a dream

the tale of a vivid imagination

seek no refuge, hide from nothing

but let the world kill you

until there is no more you

poetry in everything

poetry is the voice of beauty

and there is beauty everywhere

sometimes hidden by a veil

but with clear mind and open heart

you can pierce the veil of illusion

and see the truth

what we are so busy denying

and turning away from

is the beauty itself

oh! people

turn towards suffering

turn towards tenderness 

turn towards brokenness 

turn towards the tears

you have held back behind the veil

it is this turning towards truth

that allows the beauty you are

to radiate into the world

and that is the poetry i speak of.

The Secret Garden of Tenderness

There is a secret garden
Within me
A place I go
To tend
To what is growing
No one has ever been there
Nor ever will
In that private place
Are the fragile seedlings
And the delicate buds
Of who I become
The me who writes these words
Has his roots
In that garden

I call it
The garden of tenderness
And beauty

What we nurture and tend to
Is what we become
It starts deep within.

Rest Here

Come and rest here
When you are tired
Of all this struggling
To be someone
Or something
When you are weary
Of the phenomenal world
Just come here
Where nothing is expected
Or demanded
Or assumed
You can let the struggle
Just fall away
And if you should cry
Well then just cry
For no reason
And every reason
And if you should grieve, or rage
Then do it
And let it go
And come here and rest
Those weary bones
Let me be the fire
That warms you
And holds you
While the storm
Throws its thunder and fury.