Beyond the horizon
where naked skin of Earth
presses
naked skin of Sky
children of imagination are conceived
in intercourse of mystery.
Time curves…. Dragons
form circles
in bubbles of eternity.
The ageless shepherd of our shadows
enters the pasture
that was and was not green
before the birth of poetry. Dreamers
drunken in the breath
of dark divinity dream
in secret dramas of their souls. At
times wild cries out for wilderness.
Or meditations of a mountain’s crest
become light’s prayer
in hearts of darkness.
Creation consents…. Nomads
bearing gypsy tents
thirst for twilight. Ancient
fires in books of alchemy. Riddles
of each night. The longest
word in life… is “Yes.”
Ride the horse.
The horse.
The horse.
Ride the horse, ride
into mythology
into kabbalah
into alchemy
Ride to the heart of
God’s intimate dream.
Horse is powerful.
Horse is beautiful
with passions strong
passion’s songs. Simple,
agile, august.
The flowing tail;
the ample mane
of braided gold.
The golden dust
at hooves of fire!
Ride the horse.
The horse.
The horse.
Ride the horse
upon God’s wind;
on the old
shaman’s back of
wolf pelts, bear claws
raven wing, snake skin
moth entranced. Ride
to the edge of the first and final word.
Ride to the turning
tide of light-thread
tasseled moon. To
the kingdom of angel-stars.
To where sacrificial seraphim
perish in phoenix-flame of prayer.
To where the
butterflies fold their
wings of silk and
wait for death. To
where dragonflies are resurrected.
And ageless midnight penetrates
the virgin eyes and
smile of dawn.
Do you believe, nomad
that trees smile, that
mountains contemplate
that rivers
having kissed the
floating head of Orpheus’
lips, sing the valleys
of the soul’s dark poetry?
The yin
before the yang of pilgrimage.
Ride!
Ride the horse.
The horse.
The medicine horse!
Golden dust
of pollen mist
at hooves of fire;
the arcing journey…
Ride!
Ride to the
“there” that is here.
Ride to the then
that is forever now.
To the intimate
divinity of everywhere;
to the intricate “yes”
in the silence of nothingness;
the wonder of hush, of
forgotten embrace.
This Tao of Peace:
this neighing energy.
There is a star
on the horse’s forehead.
Healers call it
Blaze of Bethlehem.
The flying shadow
ripples over ground like
Shiva’s mantic dance.
The horse’s name is
Bird With Four Legs.
The horse’s path
is Wind Song Dancer.
In the medicine
bundle of crucified time
the horsehair drum
revives the soul.
With hand of blessing
dipped
in the inner Jordan
paints colors martyred
on the face of memory.
Stamp the Red Hand
on your horse’s haunch!
When night
is cold, scatter warmth of prairie stars.
When evil rattles
the thorn tree of agony
gift
the poems of roses
from the fountain of your heart.
Become
what you give to life. Soul
and blood.
Sweat and grace.
The New Geometries: The Icosa-Dodecahedron http://www.starchildascension.org/starchild/bluestarnotes.html
http://www.starchildascension.org/starchild/bluestarnotesger.html
http://www.starchildascension.org/starchild/bluestarnotesned.html
http://www.starchildascension.org/starchild/bluestarnotesspan.html
On my side of the planet, morning of August 6, Hiroshima Day, the date on which the black rain of overshadowing omnicide first feel upon the Earth…
LISTEN
You’re not listening
Sky is falling
You’re not listening
Sea is rising
In tempest-rage
You are not listening, no
And the angel of death
Comes on
Like rolling thunder
Earth is eaten away – this place
Now
This is a terrible moment
In the valley of tears
In a time of tribulation
Terrible, it is terrible I say
Truly terrible
When truth is at risk
And the heart and lungs
On all sides
There is betrayal
And everywhere, everywhere
In the eyes and mouths - poisons
Now, not before
Not after – Look – be sensitive
The ecstatic flame of angel
With the eyes of crucifixion
The one crucified
This
This is when the senses
(And the soul
Housed, ecosophic, inside the body)
Need to be alert
When choices are monumental
When life, all of life, life is in the balance
Answer this:
Do you need to
Hear the sirens screaming?
Do you need to
Witness the perfect storm?
To feel black rain, as in
August ’45? Does
Creation need to split apart for you and
Death weld together for faith
Dead Earth, dust
And deadly sky?
Where are you, where really
When I turn to look around
When I search to hear your footsteps
Feel you breathing
Do you dare to know
We-you and I-we are still alive?
There is difference
Life is on one hand, death on the other
Different
To live and die
Than to live for death, to
Be death’s ambassador,
The pallbearer, the anguished who
Tore the puzzle apart, flung it, pieces
Into furnace—end stop, endgame, ominous
Into oblivion
Answer to that – know it
Know (no), know
Your answer will be binding
Wait, wait, wait then… wait I beg you
For here there is love
There is
God in the shape of prayer still
And that is Kingdom
Blessed
Are the peacemakers, the
Earth-walkers
The brave who
Turn aside to feel the heartthrob, heartache of the world, to
Hear a teardrop fall
In velvet morning, an
Angel sigh despair, a newborn
Cry in the blood pool of life
To share, to taste, to give, to take
Our common bread
Our days
Body
Holy
Flame
Cross
He walks upon the water
In a wounded whisper
Word
From mouth to ear
Far off and near
The sound
Of spreading morning
Star fallen
On Hiroshima and the end
Star of Bethlehem!
Listen…
It is not prosperity
That the midnight bells are swelling
But Christ Mass and the dove
The dove
The dove of now
Peace – the cleansing rain
Listen…
Hush, be gentle, gentle I beg you
Listen…
Christmas Eve, 24 December 2007
from HEALING, A Book of Poetry by David Sparenberg
Sunday morning, to one and all: Peace within & peace to share…
MEDICINE DREAM
I have a dream:
at the center of the dream
is circling ocean
in the center of the ocean
is turtle island
at the center of the island
is vision mountain
in the center of the mountain
is healing crystal
at the center of the crystal
is sacred light
in the center of the light
i sit dreaming
I have a dream:
i dream i am a tree
my roots spread out
beside a place of water
in sunlight
my branches turn to fire
my leaves are prayers of smoke
my heart beats like a drum
inside a stone of power
I have a dream:
my dream is at the center
of great silence
here at the center
i sit dreaming
from HEALING, A Book of Poetry by David Sparenberg
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Philippa Elaine Castle's Comments
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Warm regards,
Eva
Philippa,GLAD TO MET YOU PHILIPPA,
KEEP IN TOUCH,
LOVE,PEACE UPON YOU
KISSES..
MODY.
Beyond the horizon
where naked skin of Earth
presses
naked skin of Sky
children of imagination are conceived
in intercourse of mystery.
Time curves…. Dragons
form circles
in bubbles of eternity.
The ageless shepherd of our shadows
enters the pasture
that was and was not green
before the birth of poetry. Dreamers
drunken in the breath
of dark divinity dream
in secret dramas of their souls. At
times wild cries out for wilderness.
Or meditations of a mountain’s crest
become light’s prayer
in hearts of darkness.
Creation consents…. Nomads
bearing gypsy tents
thirst for twilight. Ancient
fires in books of alchemy. Riddles
of each night. The longest
word in life… is “Yes.”
David Sparenberg
11 August 2009
Thank you very much for the Friendship !
Much Love & Peace & Many Blessings to You,
Abdel
Ride the horse.
The horse.
The horse.
Ride the horse, ride
into mythology
into kabbalah
into alchemy
Ride to the heart of
God’s intimate dream.
Horse is powerful.
Horse is beautiful
with passions strong
passion’s songs. Simple,
agile, august.
The flowing tail;
the ample mane
of braided gold.
The golden dust
at hooves of fire!
Ride the horse.
The horse.
The horse.
Ride the horse
upon God’s wind;
on the old
shaman’s back of
wolf pelts, bear claws
raven wing, snake skin
moth entranced. Ride
to the edge of the first and final word.
Ride to the turning
tide of light-thread
tasseled moon. To
the kingdom of angel-stars.
To where sacrificial seraphim
perish in phoenix-flame of prayer.
To where the
butterflies fold their
wings of silk and
wait for death. To
where dragonflies are resurrected.
And ageless midnight penetrates
the virgin eyes and
smile of dawn.
Do you believe, nomad
that trees smile, that
mountains contemplate
that rivers
having kissed the
floating head of Orpheus’
lips, sing the valleys
of the soul’s dark poetry?
The yin
before the yang of pilgrimage.
Ride!
Ride the horse.
The horse.
The medicine horse!
Golden dust
of pollen mist
at hooves of fire;
the arcing journey…
Ride!
Ride to the
“there” that is here.
Ride to the then
that is forever now.
To the intimate
divinity of everywhere;
to the intricate “yes”
in the silence of nothingness;
the wonder of hush, of
forgotten embrace.
This Tao of Peace:
this neighing energy.
There is a star
on the horse’s forehead.
Healers call it
Blaze of Bethlehem.
The flying shadow
ripples over ground like
Shiva’s mantic dance.
The horse’s name is
Bird With Four Legs.
The horse’s path
is Wind Song Dancer.
In the medicine
bundle of crucified time
the horsehair drum
revives the soul.
With hand of blessing
dipped
in the inner Jordan
paints colors martyred
on the face of memory.
Stamp the Red Hand
on your horse’s haunch!
When night
is cold, scatter warmth of prairie stars.
When evil rattles
the thorn tree of agony
gift
the poems of roses
from the fountain of your heart.
Become
what you give to life. Soul
and blood.
Sweat and grace.
9 August 2009
The New Geometries: The Icosa-Dodecahedronhttp://www.starchildascension.org/starchild/bluestarnotes.html
http://www.starchildascension.org/starchild/bluestarnotesger.html
http://www.starchildascension.org/starchild/bluestarnotesned.html
http://www.starchildascension.org/starchild/bluestarnotesspan.html
LISTEN
You’re not listening
Sky is falling
You’re not listening
Sea is rising
In tempest-rage
You are not listening, no
And the angel of death
Comes on
Like rolling thunder
Earth is eaten away – this place
Now
This is a terrible moment
In the valley of tears
In a time of tribulation
Terrible, it is terrible I say
Truly terrible
When truth is at risk
And the heart and lungs
On all sides
There is betrayal
And everywhere, everywhere
In the eyes and mouths - poisons
Now, not before
Not after – Look – be sensitive
The ecstatic flame of angel
With the eyes of crucifixion
The one crucified
This
This is when the senses
(And the soul
Housed, ecosophic, inside the body)
Need to be alert
When choices are monumental
When life, all of life, life is in the balance
Answer this:
Do you need to
Hear the sirens screaming?
Do you need to
Witness the perfect storm?
To feel black rain, as in
August ’45? Does
Creation need to split apart for you and
Death weld together for faith
Dead Earth, dust
And deadly sky?
Where are you, where really
When I turn to look around
When I search to hear your footsteps
Feel you breathing
Do you dare to know
We-you and I-we are still alive?
There is difference
Life is on one hand, death on the other
Different
To live and die
Than to live for death, to
Be death’s ambassador,
The pallbearer, the anguished who
Tore the puzzle apart, flung it, pieces
Into furnace—end stop, endgame, ominous
Into oblivion
Answer to that – know it
Know (no), know
Your answer will be binding
Wait, wait, wait then… wait I beg you
For here there is love
There is
God in the shape of prayer still
And that is Kingdom
Blessed
Are the peacemakers, the
Earth-walkers
The brave who
Turn aside to feel the heartthrob, heartache of the world, to
Hear a teardrop fall
In velvet morning, an
Angel sigh despair, a newborn
Cry in the blood pool of life
To share, to taste, to give, to take
Our common bread
Our days
Body
Holy
Flame
Cross
He walks upon the water
In a wounded whisper
Word
From mouth to ear
Far off and near
The sound
Of spreading morning
Star fallen
On Hiroshima and the end
Star of Bethlehem!
Listen…
It is not prosperity
That the midnight bells are swelling
But Christ Mass and the dove
The dove
The dove of now
Peace – the cleansing rain
Listen…
Hush, be gentle, gentle I beg you
Listen…
Christmas Eve, 24 December 2007
from HEALING, A Book of Poetry by David Sparenberg
I'm from Tunisia, North Africa & I liked your friendship
Many Love & peace
Abdel
MEDICINE DREAM
I have a dream:
at the center of the dream
is circling ocean
in the center of the ocean
is turtle island
at the center of the island
is vision mountain
in the center of the mountain
is healing crystal
at the center of the crystal
is sacred light
in the center of the light
i sit dreaming
I have a dream:
i dream i am a tree
my roots spread out
beside a place of water
in sunlight
my branches turn to fire
my leaves are prayers of smoke
my heart beats like a drum
inside a stone of power
I have a dream:
my dream is at the center
of great silence
here at the center
i sit dreaming
from HEALING, A Book of Poetry by David Sparenberg
Peace and Love from IndiaCome be part of our group
Gandhi, man of peace
Thank you
http://www.ipeace.me/group/gandhimanofpeace
Namaste
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