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You have entered the realm of my mind where words play with the fabric of our existence. This is the map of my imagination: the very foundations of inspiration, musing, and thought splayed for your wandering eyes. Dive deep into the tides of these forces and experience my reality, my fantasy, my world; and if you should be so inclined, share your words with this land.

Peace and Love!

J Hart F

Sunday, April 4, 2010

Take Away the Choiceless Thought

Chariot with wheels of fire, Draw
the light of flickering shadows away,
suspending darkness; knowing its
only place as moratorium till further

As you crest, warm God of day,
bring forth a heart for those to hold,
in shadows they stand looking deep
and unable,
though attempts strive for that
knowing which flickers in the

Illuminate the world we see,
no shades drawn over your source;
if thus compromised only lingered
by the selves who walk;
restrained by circumstances alone.

Singularity pulsing upon that Earth,
whose whispers are gone from their ears, to
strive in fallacy,
only they can look outside the cave;
can walk past flames nurtured by
hands and
doused the same.

Oh sun, great father of our sky!
Guide our sight as
mother guides our intuition.
Help dispel the smothering
which manifest our defense
against what we choose
and who we are;
the lies sought without
truths half earned in our eyes.

Don't cleanse the earth of
deepest oceans;
Don't take away the
structured mounds;
Don't quiet doubt and
reason beyond;
Don't shutter away the
rose and thorn;
Don't demise the utter

The sun rests above the
western mountains,
rays flying in spears of light
to dance below the darkened
clouds downpouring the
enlivening tears.
An evening arc full of grace
emerges beneath the
dark blue angel; stretching
out for those who See.
A smile of colors glimmering
in light
in the last few breaths
of day.

Eastern skies birth She;
another stage before an
unending existence
balanced quietly in an
unfathomable understanding
of now and never and am.

Her Bowman dancing about the night,
as restful souls speak quiet songs;
reflections of the chariot's flight,
yet more perfect than his strength.
A multitude of seeing sought
in ever clearing, silver-white
the cloudless mind drifts
toward nirvana;

The choices of sleep in ever
troubling days when illusions
spark the stressing aches bring
ignorant blissful ignorance;
the choice of lacking in tools,
a choice to choose
and strive for ever after joy
destroys that semblance
of fortitude.
Night can only rot
the suspended darkness
and decline the moratorium
of shadows
illuminated in day.

Till finally, the being can be no more
as ever it was.
The traversing trials of trampled
tracks are sought once more
as virtuous and blessed.

And rarely is it seen:
the walk is ever
Our Own,
for ever are we walking.

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