Here

But not here

Observing the collective — those fighting in the streets for rights — to be heard, like squawking crows calling murderous friends to the seen. As a friend speaks — people are dying to be heard — like little children begging for parental attention.

Silently whispering — heart songs sacred tune — for the beggars asking for something other than coin. The monetary illusion of filling voided presence of self-inflicting precarious belief-ridden reality — emptiness remains.

Like Oljita’s ability to wander freely into worlds — not subscribing to the ordinary — living extraordinary. Stepping in — like a ghost undetected by those afraid of what cannot be seen — choosing to remain present while the busy bees continue begging for attention.

Ani Kuni set to the loop-pedals beat — crying out to father-mother, creative winds — save me from the pain of my brothers and sisters’ happenstance misfortune rhythms. Forward moving — stepping out of past to present — looking to present-future tense — absent are they who have not found the present.

Like a ghost, we came, hence a ghost, we return — observing the collective whole — self-inclusive vibratory thought forever. Present are we — in this place but not of it.

Here — but not here.

~ Ani Po

Much gratitude for those who take time to read, ponder, and allow the inner workings of self to come forward. Grateful for the feedback, love shared, and, more importantly, the Dance with Inspiration. Deep Peace.

Joseph Lieungh

Darkness Shadowing Light

Remaining focused on the Giver of Light

Drawn to the darkest aspects of collective revelations — no more driven by fear or painful misery — accepting a lighter approach to daily living. Once bitten — serpents tempestuous song — decades of sorrow, life-ending pleas.

Familiar is the fleeting thought — protecting the innocence of inner knowing — calling of another voice from high on the Mount of Olives. Negotiating contractual rights — existing in plain sight — hidden from those drinking the collective drink.

Bittersweet — a pungent turning of spoiling flesh — a serpent shedding its skin — bathing in cleansing waters. Floating amidst the ancient ones — emitting crystalline wafting wafers — left for consumption of those willing to plunge deeper.

Into the cosmos — self-realizing truths — inner to outer rings of furthest galaxies, it is so. As above, so below — as it was spoken before — as real today as before.

Acknowledging the flesh-eating, self-defeating thought — accepting the easement into the greatest ease. As one wing leads to the left, the other right — remains indifferent to the whole aviary flight.

We are the whole bird — darkness shadowing light. No longer attentive to the despairing clouds — remaining focused on the giver of light.

~ Ani Po

Much gratitude for those who take time to read, ponder, and allow the inner workings of self to come forward. Grateful for the feedback, love shared, and, more importantly, the Dance with Inspiration. Deep Peace.

Joseph Lieungh