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Mystical Verses  (7.22.98)
  by Ruth Cunningham title image

Image of print
January 10, 1987

ight between the mountains peeking
star of wonder points the spot
where the days last dawn lies weeping
for our future - freed yet caught.

Layered in stone plateau, our footprints
ice encrusted, time ensconced,
where we stood on our last midnight
still the wind there chills and haunts.

Those who stayed had chosen knowing
those who went could not return,
but their choice ensured each dreamer
that our flame would ever burn.

Linked forever, love unbroken
weaves you from the heart and mind
of spirit Self, to trade life's token
for the truth that ticks untimed.

January 11, 1987

irring  secret of the springtime
rising through the roses stem,
trembling with the aspens flutter
bursting 'cross the hill and glen,

through the sunlight's crystal prism
drawn beyond the earth's green reach
entwined in every human calling
what we once ourselves beseeched.

Upward, tender tendrils climbing,
to escape or to embrace?
we have known such lessons learning -
once the reason of our race.

Caught within the web-works crafting,
done, undone and done again
trial to error in twinned creation
'till at last our path lay plain.

Every self will learn its lessons
every heart itself translate
in common purpose, granted freely
hailed as choice or railed as fate.

Spoken through the living moment
Self-to-self and each to all
conversations through the centuries
answer to each seekers call.

Silence buzzing - magic secrets -
language that the heart recalls,
those who listen still can hear us
echo through their own mind's halls.

Image of print
January 12, 1987

illing  up the heart's deep river
swifter roars the flow of time,
on its foaming crest there quivers
every dreamer's dream divine.

You would ride its joyful fury,
you would risk its certain fate
poised upon its surging splendor
racing out through heaven's gate.

Each the rider - each the risker,
Each the fate of all has been
To travel to the sea's spray spewing,
Start to end and all between.

Neptune's dreams in currents pulling
back upon another time
each has known another thrilling -
drunk upon an ancient wine.

Each the fated - each the godly,
each the dreamer of this dream,
for you are fresh forever's flowing
carried by time's ceaseless stream.

January 15, 1987

e  who speak your self past living,
we who sing your future's song,
fill the air with words soft winging
carried on to where they belong.

We fill the air and fill the moments -
look inside your minds so bright
you will see in view unending
worlds within your nearer sight.

Breath by breath until you're breathless
still the need has not been met
'till your lifetimes of unending
know their gain without regret.

We were once that future's children,
searching for our name and place
amongst the paths convergent shadows,
vying for life's human face.

We are many voices gathered
one by one the blooms are picked,
one to join and to follow
side by side our lifetimes tick.

Image of print
January 29, 1987

iding  in life's folds and creases,
facts and fictions - lies and truths,
shake them out - their fit is perfect
joy to wear their living hues.

For you are not the angels keepers,
you are not the devils guard,
fear would bond you each to either -
free you falsely -- hold you barred.

Lost amidst your lifetimes, dreaming,
worlds where neither wing nor hoof
flits nor tramples - void of meaning;
worlds to wonder - dreams enough.

You are not tomorrow's promise
wedded to time's master - fate,
bonded to a past and future -
one too soon and one too late.

You are not your mother's sorrows,
you are not your father's pride,
you are not their re-creation
boxed by time from either side.

You are not a holy marvel
marred by birth and blessed at death,
a mirrored mutant, ever striving
past your living lifetime's breath.
Neither are you gilded children -
Polished by some genies hand,
forever captured in earth's bottle
by what you don't understand.

July 14, 1998 (Tuesday morning)

0  find the joy that's equal to
the woe that broke the heart of you
accept the Gift -- as best you can
a faultless part
in a flawless plan

Your life
a stardust bloom sublime
perfects itself upon life's vine
for it is written in your cells what memory knows
and being tells

that past has purpose -
lessons learned
in sight of Self
reviewed , returned
when grace, at last recalled
the balance of your stolen days.

For memory holds you
to life's vow
and tells your secrets
one by one
to show the who and why and how
until at last the lie's undone.

We cannot make the ignorant wise
beyond the self's determinate ties
but that the heart of each of you
determines what is false and true.

To know the drudge of daily trial
is but a faceless fiction's smile -
contrivance of defaulted choice
by empty mind and strangled voice.

July 22, 1998

ut  yours' is not the unlit path
the self-abandoned fear to tread
when truth has turned its face away
and left the heart in moral dread
of what the choice was meant to teach
but tricked the mind to believe instead,
as if the truth of self-and-Self
could be escaped - or left unsaid.