Saturday, January 12, 2008

the light

alone the silent warrior stands
by a tree in the wilderness, attentively
he listens to a steady heartbeat
to the soul of the redwood

he listens.

days and months turn to years of many
as he stands firmly rooted to earth
soul to soul suspended in foggy dark
from infinite sky to white hot core

occasionally he opens a small book

he draws small pictures on old parchments
as the tree speaks he draws the image
and records a beautiful sonata that grows
into a magnificent symphony of time

movements of the dance of the dead

for time and timelessness he records whispers
as the voice of the tree releases
the meaning of being a beloved son of sun
roots extend far beyond the fat deep that is

into and between uttermost particles of all earth

top to bottom, center to circumference and beyond,
far beyond the higest leaf of imagination
from finite consciousness of alpha
into infinite consciousness of omega

one by one he drops sweet images                                                           t

from the parchment he holds so dear,             h
and they fall to earth                                      G  
slowly dis in te grat ing                          i
                              in to the         L