Voices

voices
so many voices
asking to be heard
begging to be heard
shouting to be heard
so much noise.

when is there silence
to hear the sound
of my own sweet voice?
the one telling me
soft now beloved,
soft and slow,

doing and being
needn't be enemies.
and I know why I have 
stopped my practice:
because everything
has become a meditation

everything
an opportunity for this
exquisite listening
to the sound of
my own soul
calling.

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.

The Pulse

I pressed and pressed
Could not digest
The story with no name:
That one will keep
You from your sleep;
My finger was the pulse.
 
Until in time
With reason and rhyme
Some understanding came;
I danced and danced
I took no chance:
My finger was the pulse.
 
And then I knew
Unless I threw
That story right away,
My life would feel wrong,

I'd lack my own song:
My finger was the pulse.

So I decided

I'll not be divided
The song of my heart I will play:
Oh how the sun beams
When your soul lives its dreams!
My finger is the pulse.