Sant Salvador
My window faces
The rising sun This gift of life Each day is spun I hear your footsteps In my mind This gift of peace Such joy to find Silent mornings In my arms This gift of love Brings me calm I see you pray You alone This gift of time Carved in stone My window faces The setting sun This gift of words Unspoken, undone MaitreyaDroplets
Of water On the leaves Of trees The rains Have been and gone The pool’s surface Is still Listen To the unhappy hounds Listen To the distant traffic Listen To the fish jumping Listen To the birdsong Look Towards the temple Look Through the gaps Between the trees Look At the swaying branches As you sit still The regimentation Is all mine Nature gives me the tree Faultlessly and at random Feel the gentle breath Hear the trickling water Wait, for the time To share conversation Taste the fruit tea Taste the scone With jam With maple syrup Turn the pages Of the beautiful book Pay for entrance, and Meditation CD Ask about Maitreya’s latest project Did he visit Japan During last winter Stop by his crystal garden Spend a few moments On a wooden bench With feet, on the floor Footsteps down
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This is Just ☊
This is just
Just, for Just you! Musk Magic touch Touch of blue This is just In place of musk In place of touch For you Never blue I give you truth That’s all you ever asked Hidden from View
I will take the time to find you
If only in my mind It is a kindness I might remind you If only I had the time Sweet scent of rhododendrons Bitter taste of bitter fruits Loops for to go meandering How else to follow xenophobia I will take the time to find you If only in my mind Blue-grey skies of tomorrow Picked out sounds of lullabies lutes Troops of wishful wandering How else to lose xenophobia I will take the time to find you If only in my mind There, with hindsight to remind you To this cause I am resigned Bridge across the sky
Thousands of miles away
Across so many seas Where are your thoughts at this moment Can you stop, just now Think of this place Across so many seas Take a moment A small mobile meditation Close your eyes Bridge across the sky Thousands of miles away Your muse, your love, your tree Across so many seas Did you feel the fleeting thought Grasp that visualisation flash Across so many seas Less than separate minds In splitting seconds bind Touching skins together fly, bridge across the sky Thousands of miles away Your friend, your love, your free Across so many seas Caught that synapse strobing Mind depths you were probing Together across so many seas Now there’s intermingling. Souls engaged, lattice leaves, layers lingering Open your eyes; you’ve bridged across the skies Now there is no horizon
The waves roll over and roll over
Rolling across the curve of the shoreline Stereophonic splashes, washing over, washing over Silently the sodium lights glaze the ripples Incidentally highlighting the ebb and flow All the while, buoys and marker lights, bobble and flicker Through the blowing open bathroom door After Yentob on Freud Only pretending Wanting to remember this time Wanting to describe the space Describe the deeper feeling Sodium at the seafront At midnight No other sounds Sea moving, air flowing Painting is the real thing Painting is the real thing A photograph could not capture You know he is almost right But behind me is the sink And down below the window A solitary moment of a stranger passing Not captured by the flashbulb, nor now the painter Both unable to synthesise all the view Although with these words, words scribbled down Beside the corroded, glass cracked single glazed window Cream windowsill inside, words Cream windowsill outside, words Sky blue mottled paint, from interior to exterior, words I can see out into the blackness Describe that now there is no horizon Write and say “now there is no horizon” Describe an infinite dimension space, black space A complete starless night sky How could the painter paint, paint nothing Without depth, without perspective Would the photographer touch, touch up The thousand miles of nothingness Between here and the next continent Enable me to remember the background sounds of Beach bound pebbles crashing Crashing like a sack of marbles Realising the roar of the last motorbike Alone he serenades, and together leaves the shoreline promenade Pretty words and parting flowers
Then I rationalise it as jealousy
Making sense with no sense There was I’m quite certain, there was a shaky feeling Could I have been misled, for certain, or were you dealing Pretty words and parting flowers Remembering the movies, remembering ‘The Hours’ That’s when the balance began, began by getting lost The red mist, angers languor, sense, loss I sensed loss at any cost Driving on to midnight, up country, over a fault free line Up country the simmer settles, thinking process fettled The madness mellows, swallows in the moonshine |
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