When

Through my veiled intensity of getting to know WHO WHAT and WHY, I am I smile and I am sure that God would too ... the little games we play with ourselves (and others) to FEEL to KNOW and GROW.   I am very grateful to see the good in everything but filth, then even then there is a beauty in that too, as new life descends and divides and grows. A point in question hanging in our city  ~ as the municipal workers are on strike - When? When do they resume work, when do they get treated fairly, when do they treat equally - When......... In complete honesty I ask when ....    when  All we have are hints and glimpses, something seen fleetingly as in peripheral vision, a shadowy shape beyond the drape, the voice that whispers behind the grill, the merest murmur of Elysian melody, a prickling of the skin which might be but a draft from an open window. But it is the window opening on eternity, seen now darkly, but then face to face.


                                                 The Living Earth
A spirit so limited in vision - it's daily food - clothes, education a society of norms - pressuring, spinning, not allowing a moment to take stock - to find grace, a ball out of control, living in perpetual motion, deriving nothing but the motion.

Something so Right 
The journey towards perfection means rising above limitations; rising so high that not the horizon of one country or of one continent only is seen, but that of the whole world. The higher we rise the wider becomes the horizon of our view.

Sunrays 

At the center of our being is a point of nothingness which is untouched by sin and by illusion, a point of pure truth, a point or spark which belongs entirely to God, which is never at our disposal, from which God disposes of our lives, which is inaccessible to the fantasies of our own mind or the brutalities of our own will. This little point of nothingness and of absolute poverty is the pure glory of God in us. It is so to speak his name written in us... like a pure diamond, blazing with the invisible light of heaven. It is in every body, and if we could see it we would see these billions of points of light coming together in the face and blaze of a sun that would make all the darkness and cruelty of life vanish completely... I have no program for this seeing. It is only given. A vision of perfection placed in our own hands. If one is awoken through Love denied or Rhythms that
make you come alive for good or bad reasoning .... then you know you are near to finding Questions to your Answers as you look into a mirror might appear.

A song for You 
 It is not I that wishes to be known but God who wishes to be shown.
                                                                                                                                                       ANAM 


To-day my sole ambition is to be a supernumerary in the vast human comedy, and when my silent role is ended, to withdraw behind the scenes, neither hissed nor applauded, making my exit unnoticed."

Now and forever 

A Poem that wrote itself this morning, sprung from my lips onto a page ... 

The diary date reads : 27 May Wednesday 2009 (an old one hat came to hand at the time) .... when I write anything will do, a box, a page, a news paper ... when it flows - oh when it flows - Ecstasy ♥

As we walk though halls .... of pictures one painted
Hung on white walls ...... thought held hands and almost feinted
A brushed vision of twelve ... wait another is there ... delve 
A wall led to believe .... through looking and longing we perceive
One more to oversea
One more not as can be seen
One more that can be scene
Do you walk away again ... through that door
Or do you face it head-on in awe
Do you open up your chest - take a deep breath
Do you whistle when at ease and at rest
How to sing such a delicate song
The mushrooms and billows and burns
A music so profound and strong
Embark on roads no-one invited you on
A word not spoken
A gesture not taken
A touch that one can awaken
A softened mist gently to enfold
..... but could one ever hold?
Down with the tempest in my breast
To another there like all the best
Hidden in armour
Hidden in fire
Hidden in a flaming pyre 
Allegory anti-moan and it's vest
Covering the leaves of thyme
Through a simple bold request
I collected these leaves you see
Only to find the reds turned to rust
As the yellows turned to gold
Making the browns look so old
which now look so withered and cold
I will keep them in a bowl
To remind me of the markings on my soul
Then to a new life begin
When I turn their pages to find
A memory to be remembered of one so blind
When next it is told ..... and not just the old
Of veins and ice and rivers that melted twice
A heart in words I claimed ... then gave it away again
The sweetness of my mouth burnt blisters on your lips
Of juices I was never allowed to taste
How could I tell you .... how would you know
Only God has that right to see as I saw etched
Onto the windows of your soul
There lies the truth ... there lies my love
Buried in folds of all of the above.




.........   then there comes Gravity

Silence is Golden

Silence is not a lack of words.
  Silence is not a lack of music.
Silence is not a lack of colors or voices or bodies or whistling wind.
Silence is not a lack of anything.
Silence is sound
Silence is love, even the love that hides in hate.
Silence is a word, a hope, a candle lighting the window of home.
Silence is everything the renewing sleep of Earth, the purifying dream of Water, the
purifying rage of Fire, the soaring and spiraling flight of Air.
It is all things dissolved into no-thing
Silence is with you always the Presence of I AM
Elaine Maria Upton