Tag Archives: Spirituality

Poetry, Writing

Lesson 4 The Way of the Wizard

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(Poem 24 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

“This body is like a roost that my thoughts come home to, but they fly in and out so fast that you might as well say they live in the air.” -Merlin, Deepak Chopra’s The Way of the Wizard    

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/HczXK0

Scatter gold dust to the wind-
a reward to her for giving all
the answers to who we are.
Knowing a name means little
these days, for titles are mere
representations of nothing,
lacking solidity, misleading labels.
Analyst, mother of three, married,
divorced, married again –
an unconditioned being hemmed
in by components, containers,
barriers…
We become invisible, hidden,
buried under too many layers
by the weight of the past.
Mother worries they’ve gotten
themselves arrested again.
Wife is pleased he’s proud of her.
Writer toys with the next best
word to make herself sound smart.
To shed the roles like a too-hot
fleece and notice who is thinking
those thoughts awakens the
awareness of the observer.
This nameless state is the real,
pure, fundamental self, the I
behind the I, the untouched
silent soul beyond the noise,
beyond breath, beyond life,
beyond…

@Home Studio –  24th poem of the year

Chopra, Deepak. The Way of the Wizard: Twenty Spiritual Lessons for Creating the Life You Want. New York, United States of America, Harmony Books, 1995, pp.35-40.

Runner ups for the AI gold dust on the wind photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Beauty Watches

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(Poem 20 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

Beauty watches Aiko (the husky) sleep.
She studies the paws positioned
in perfect running formation,
as though young again, racing at
breakneck speed faster than thought.
She notices the rise and fall of
breath and memory, dream and peace.
A double winter coat invites nestling,
and Beauty contemplates placement,
position, cause of least disturbance,
optimal geographic juxtaposition
of functional grace, busy relaxation,
dutiful nonchalance, operative indifference.
There is an art to being both beautiful
and resolute, relevant and immaterial–
a skill to pondering both nothing and
everything—and she has perfected it.

@Home Studio – Watching Aiko and Beauty together – 20th poem of the year

Poetry, Writing

Lesson 2 from The Way of the Wizard

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(Poem 18 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

“You will know your own innocence again when you can see the love that breathes within every iota of creation.” -Deepak Chopra The Way of the Wizard    

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/epXhfI

Arthur could not see
his own reflection
in the clear water pond
and was afraid to confess
as much to Merlin.
I thought of him today
and the lesson he was
taught in response to
the wonderful news
that a lack of self-image
is a sign of innocence.

To gaze peacefully out
my sliding glass door
is an act of creation,
for the observer plants
the seed of life by
noticing, recalling,
becoming invested in,
and growing to love
the deer who stand
munching, daring the
dogs to bark, antlers
high in defiance,
the squirrels chittering
angrily as they race along
the fence top, provoking
growls and menace,
the birds who nest,
the possums who hide,
the mice who find
their way inside,
the skunks who waddle
around in the dark,
magical beasts who
sparkle with newness
if only we clean our
lenses, witness them afresh,
and listen for the faintest
of songs sung by them all
called, “Behold yourself.”

@Home Studio – 18th poem of the year

Chopra, Deepak. The Way of the Wizard: Twenty Spiritual Lessons for Creating the Life You Want. New York, United States of America, Harmony Books, 1995, pp. 23-28.

Runner ups for the AI cosmic oneness photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Lesson 1 from The Way of the Wizard

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(Poem 13 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

“…every living thing is the entire universe, only wearing a different disguise.” -Merlin, Deepak Chopra’s The Way of the Wizard

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com
https://gencraft.ai/p/sDIotX

What room for silence
when preferences clamor
for precedence
and feelings battle one
another to reign?

The mind asserts its
dominance by forcing
rejection of other,
delineating you versus me
and they versus we.

How can peace seep
into our spirit crevasses
unless the outside
splits open to release
it from within?

Until we listen to
the inner voice crying
out, “Find me,” 
we will never realize,
“All this is myself.”

@Home Studio – 13th poem of the year

Chopra, Deepak. The Way of the Wizard: Twenty Spiritual Lessons for
  Creating the Life You Want. New York, United States of America,
  Harmony Books, 1995, pp. 19-21.

Runner ups for the AI cosmic oneness photos to accompany my poem:

Health, Poetry, Writing

The First Time Salting

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(Poem 3 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

<a href=”https://www.vecteezy.com/free-photos”>Free Stock photos by Vecteezy</a>

The first time salting
my window sills, I waited
until everyone in the house
was asleep.

No one could question
the protective measures
taken on their behalf
nor doubt their
efficacy.

Burning sage for the first time
took place behind closed doors,
any scent detected probably
thought to be a strange new
candle, since those are
understood.

My rock collection
continues to grow,
new shades of polished
gems and crystals join
dinosaur excrement and
fossilized wood,
each has its place.

@Genuine Joe’s mid-day – 3rd poem of the year

Health, Poetry, Writing

Will My Awakening

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(Poem 2 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

<a href=”https://www.vecteezy.com/free-photos”>Free Stock photos by Vecteezy</a>

Will my awakening
shock me like a lightning strike
send sizzling energy
bolting from my fingertips
and announce to all in
earshot that I am alive?

Will my awakening
descend gentle as
falling snow and land
on my eyelashes
spinning a new reality
forever in a moment?

Or will my awakening
happen in my sleep
while I dream, a bit of
saliva drooled onto my pillow
and I have no idea it
even happened?

@Genuine Joe’s mid-day – 2nd poem of the year

Fiction, Poetry, Writing

Mahogany suede-scented candle

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Mahogany suede-scented candle
lifts my prayers heavenward
petitions spit like sparks out
to the beyond where golden stars
balance on black silk with shiny
pearl strings of galaxies in a coil
teakwood, oil, flame, light
magic cradled in Japanese pottery
hands pressed clay together
in meditative knowing aligning
time, place, now, never
where all the answers sit
comfortably together unbothered
by the questions.