The Vessel

The old woman sits,
her milky eyes see nought now
but shapes bent out 
by the flames of the fire beside her.

Her bones still strong,
her skin the give away,
made as it is of the sheerest silk
crumpled and dyed in hues of purple and blue.

She can no longer hear the stories
which now fill her belly, her heart:
her mind, though bright, has absorbed
all the cries for attention it can absorb.

So she sits and others gather
While she pours forth her timelessness,
speaking of the love she learned
in a lifetime of heartache and joy.

A strong voice radiates her light, her dark,
valueless and priceless in equal measure.
She is who she is with no apology
and all who hear her rest in that.

The Hidden Path of Plain Sight

Do you know where it is you are going?
Or whose blood is upon the stone?
Do your dreams lie so far behind you
They are nought but dust and bone?
 
Do you pray to God or a Buddha?
Do you worship the moon or the sun?
Is your life lived only through mindset?
Has your spiritual journey begun?
 
And what of your heart and emotions?
Tell me what ails you now?
Does your soul ever sing uninhibited?
Do you know when to let it, or how?
 
Bones can be sung into being -
Don't fear to gather them hence;
For there comes a time in your life
When you can no longer sit on the fence.
 
God can be found in the Nothing - 
There's nothing to fear or to love;
Just open your life to experience
The union of below and above.
 
For it's all just the same anywhichway
You choose to see it or not:
Born together, these Something's from Nothing,
We are all that we've got.
 
So we cling together in darkness,
Rejoice together in light;
Collect your courage and come hear the truth now -
It's only hidden in plain sight.