The beauty of it all

the waning wick of lantern need
can wait a bit while I scramble,
less than nimble --
through forgotten scrolls,
and parchment scraps
writ in yesteryear --
but now breathed life and relevance
by these carressing thoughs
just seen

beautiful - bubbles????

.......................................................

2001 - papa

CURRENT SWIM

When man is call drawn back to the ocean,
he walks in a series of falls and recoveries,
lacking grace and doubtful Goddess design.
Within the soothing waters, which should be home,
he stays afloat with jerks and thrashing
more akin to martial arts that loving embrace.

When an infant is allowed to swim,
they endulate beneath the waves in fearless awe,
often on their back or in dancing spin.
It should not be too surpising then to understand
why a soulful search for path and self
procedes in spurts and ego splash and fearful dives
into a choas pulse of yearning,
in which the spirit might flounder in dilusion.

For those who allow self to return to innocence,
and travel Home in Song as a child,
and loveswim in the Currents of everbe in awe;
they will beglide on stardust breath.
Behind their joyful, undulating spirit swing
will wave a wake of rainbow laughter,
seen by artists and mystics as angel wings.

We vainly try to find those awake.
Seek instead to embrace those whose vibrant caress
leaves a wake, eddies, waves and bubbles
of effervecent love of Life and love itself.