THE WELL OF INNER PEACE

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A WELL OF INNER PEACE

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One part of us experiences glee

When we handle something victoriously

The glee could be sports or our personal life

Something we master after much strife

The dark side of glee is getting clean away

With something shady in dark hues of grey

The glee of wrongdoing is hellish glee

But I don't wish that for you or me

Hellish glee is the path to ruin

Cause eventually we forget what we're even doing

Just acting out fears and rage

Hellish glee is a red hot cage

But the glee we feel when we succeed

Is a validation we all need

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Joy comes from a deeper place

The world can neither give nor erace

It comes from a garden of inner peace

Among flowers of gratitude this flow will not cease

When the world is indifferent or unkind

Your inner joy can calm your mind

Appreciative joy has no beginning and no end

To walk the path with joy as with a friend

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TALE OF A TAIL

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TALE OF A TAIL

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If I had a tail it would wag when I see you

Droop when you have to leave

Point straight back when I am focused

Curl up over my back when I feel cute

My tail would tuck between my legs when I am nervous

I could chase my tail for fun and philosophical insight

My tail would need colorful crocheted tail sleeves

And every morning I would put on tail bracelets

Tinkling with magical charms

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PRESTO CHANGO

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PRESTO CHANGO

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When I was a child, I desperately wanted to find

A real magical object - a leaf, a stone, a talking tree

That I could use to magically change my life

That would change me, too

Into the poised, popular child that fit in

I also secretly wanted God or somebody to smite those I resented

To manure the neighborhood with their blood and guts

Or smite them individually with lightning bolts from on high

I lacked spiritual guidance, but I found teachers to show me

That the magic, the power, is within me

In my clarity, my will, my mindful focus

And a desire to harm none

These days I spin my spells into a safety net for us

I sparkle my blessings and good will all over the place

Where I tra-la-la each day amid my impressive array of magical objects

While I know, sure as sunrise, that the power behind the magic

Is when we join together to will a better world for everyone

A magical transformation into the garden where all might find a place

At the table

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HALT! WHO GOES THERE?

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HALT, WHO GOES THERE?

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There is a gate

Where we meet Eternity

Where hope, strength, peace and clarity can enter

The mighty city, teeming with life

That is you

We are all mighty cities, complex, active

Running day and night - the city that never stops

The city gate lets in the things we need to thrive

Unwanted visitors like compulsions and obsessions

Are escorted to the gate, sometimes kicking and screaming

The negative and unhealthy are trespassers in a kingdom 

That is a gleaming city on a hill

Dynamic, efficient, vibrant - our bodily functions

Are monitored and watched for any troublemakers

We each have this Gate where Eternity meets 

The Golden moment of Now

Feel where the breath enters and leaves your body

That place is the vital check point

Where goodness and mercy can be inhaled

Where frustration and sadness can be exhaled with a sigh

You are the gatekeeper; you decide what will pass through

Your inner guards escorting the unruly out  

A City of Peace with Watchmen on the towers

And an Angel guarding the gates with the sword of justice.

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GOLDILOCKS ZONE

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GOLDILOCKS ZONE

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Hell can be too hot

Hell can be too cold

But hell is never "just right"

So when you are trying to steer clear of hell

Type "Just Right" in your inner GPS

That is the goal, moderation, the middle

To avoid the hellish extremes our egos relish

But our spiritual guides want us to avoid

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LOOKEE THAR!

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LOOKEE THAR!

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Once in a while we stray from our path

That is when we can get lost

We see something shiny way over yonder

And go for it, not considering the cost

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It might be gold, it might be a mirage, 

It might be some kind of trap

Pay close attention when you step off the path

So you can find your way back

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SEASONED OBSERVER

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THE SEASONED OBSERVER

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Footprints in the snow

Who was it, where did they go?

They might have passed by here often, on their busy way

But only the pure snow surface

Shows they were here today

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Wind blowing across the snowy field

Making snow devils, wild and bold

Wind that is usually unobserved

Until the powdery snow and cold

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There are many invisible things around us

As we hurry on our way

Pause, stay open and watchful

To what might manifest today

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