The Dark Side.
(Exegesis Part Five)
(1963-1983)
Dichotomy and Synthesis.
If it had been the case that there were no such thing as spiritual reality (and as I had
perhaps assumed the case to be as a youngster) then all such talk and
speculation on spirituality (and mystic revelation) would be mere opinion or
belief; and unjustified opinion and belief at that. But when however, such
reality becomes self evident by direct personal demonstrable experience such as
I underwent, and of which you have just read a brief synopsis of, then it does
indeed become a real justified target for thought and contemplation. I would
imagine that people’s immediate reactions to such a profound event as a mystic
death and resurrection encounter such as that would be very different, and
depending to a large extent upon the personality involved and their past mode
of thinking. My own reaction was immediate ambivalence and much confusion. I
include this chapter then, ultra-brief though I will have to make it, in the
case that it might assist others to avoid so many years of inner frustration
and a long drawn out synthesis in acceptance and understanding of the events.
*
Thus it was then that at the age of
twenty-four, whilst sitting alone one evening minding my own business and
expecting nothing, that event occurred. And how is one supposed to react to
that! Then again how is one supposed to react to any experience? What IS
experience? Could anyone even begin to describe how they felt I wonder, for I
certainly cannot, and there are no words anyway. I did
not even know that such inner ‘events’ existed to be known and experienced. I
was dumbfounded and mind blown. This was not knowledge as I understood
knowledge and experience to be; and yet it was as real as being alive on earth.
For three hours (on the outside) and forever (within) I had seen things and
learned things, knew things; that I could not accept as being true when
returning to ‘normality’. How does one cope with that? How is one supposed to
cope with it? No person tells us that. We all walk through this mysterious
creation alone—or in existential conscious terms anyway.
For a while then I was confronted with a
direct demonstrable reality which I did not want to know, could not understand,
for it was too much and too ‘way out’ and different. Not only that but it was
too good. It was too good for me and it was too good for reality itself. The
world was an obvious obnoxious cock-up; but that thing, elaboration of the mind,
hallucination during a trance, or whatever it was, was wondrous beyond words
and belief; there was nothing better, and nothing even equal to that existence.
It did not add up or equate with the rest of reality; whatever ‘reality’ is.
Was it the case that I had gone mad maybe? Did I really die for three hours? No that cannot be right surely! Was it a vision of death
whilst yet still alive maybe? Was it the case that the mind was some kind of
confidence trickster to itself maybe; and for what purpose or function? Or was
it the case that it really was what it seemed to be—could that really be true? And why me of all people?
I am not that ‘kind’ of person. My mind was in a giddy spin for about three
months. Yet one also had to carry on with the normal daily chores and events as
usual, as though nothing had ever happened at all.
It occurred to me that it was a damn good job
that I had a keen sense of humour and a down to earth kind of personality. I
think that alone kept me sane. Is it any wonder then that such people to whom
these things happen (I found out later that it did happen to others) then begin
to wander the moors on their own, to think, wonder, contemplate, ask themselves questions: and try to understand it all; and
as to why it happened to them. It is no wonder at all. Life shows us things and
in so doing the nature of the mind is forced to ask questions and seek answers
to them. A question is much like a vacuum in the mind, and nature—and the mind
itself it seems—abhors a vacuum. In due course I came to learn that some people
actually go looking for esoteric experiences. They must be the mad ones I
thought; for sufficient unto the day are the problems thereof. After about six
months had gone by I decided to give up even thinking about it at all. For it
did not make any sense; and obviously no answers were going to come. A peasant
like myself could not work these things out, so there
was no point even thinking about it.
As a young man I had never had what some like
to call a philosophy, religion or belief system; and being young is the time
when one is learning so much about life anyway, and not for forming
conclusions. But I guess I thought along the lines that the human mind and
consciousness was the product of electro-chemical actions within the brain and
that the thing which we called ‘our conscious self’ was the product of this
biological and electro-chemical stimulation; and that being the sum of it.
What I learned that evening however—and among
other things—was a contradiction to that hypothesis. But one is so used to
thinking along certain channels of thought that when one is jolted out of it
one then questions the reality of the new concepts not the old ones; for the
old ones fit in the mind like a snug warm glove—potted thinking and self
created assumptions maybe. And which for the large part have been put there by
our indoctrination, nurture and education from other people since childhood;
for they tell us what life and reality is all about. Thus one is faced with the
dichotomy and paradox of all time. If these things are really real, truly
independent of simply experiencing them, then the conventional thinking of both
science and religion is wrong. So what is real then; book learning or direct
human experience? The dichotomy was also exacerbated by the fact that I loved
and enjoyed the events and that reality so much, and yet the implications which
it also brought did not appeal to me a great deal.
One of the implications in that transcendent
mode of being is that you and I are never terminated as such, but simply
undergo a broken continuity of self existence. (Broken by the event of
annihilation and then beginning again in that mysterious resurrection—and which
then eventually led back into this world or perhaps some other incarnate world
or dimension again.) But I did not fancy the idea of continuity, broken or
otherwise. Another is that you and I are not even from this world at all, in
essence or spirit anyway. Also that we are not mere puppets of a Divine Order
but rather the very right hand partner of it all; its direct progeny. What a
lot of stupid nonsense surely; that cannot be true! The initial question then
which one faces after such an event is as to whether one actually believes or
accepts such events and such learning done therein to be really true or not,
and irrespective of experiencing it—and actually LIVING it.
This new situation caused me a little trouble
to say the least; for I did not even know how to believe things. I was happy
enough in knowing a few things and also of my ignorance of other things. I had
seen a little of life on earth, and mysterious and pleasant as it was some of
the time the large part was that of suffering and downright misery for most
people on earth: and most of which was caused by people themselves; arguments,
wars, hostilities, deprivation, exploitation, and it was no joke and certainly
no paradise to be sure, and we were no divine beings to be sure. Or if we were
then something had gone very wrong somewhere along the way. But what I had seen
and been in that evening was a paradise of perfect existence. Why? How come?
And why me! What was the point of it all? How the hell could anything be so good... and yet real. And how could it be so good...
and yet not real? How can you exist in something that does not exist to be
existed in? How can you know something that does not exist to be known? It must
be bloody real—but it can’t be! And so the inner synthesis goes for a while.
But if it were true that you and I were never
destroyed in absolute terms, and if those things are true, then who in their
right mind would ever want to come back here again anyway? For
you cannot stay there in that dimension of mind even if it is real. I do
not want to come here again and that is for sure, for this world is juvenile
and cretinous enough without having to live here with
the memory of that other place—and which makes it even seem worse here on
earth.
I began reading all kinds of literature for a
while; for I had to know if others had seen and been in this same identical
reality that I had seen and been in. But there is so much to read and so little
time left after work to do it all. Yet that which I did come to read during the
first year or two had no resemblance to what I had seen, learned and knew.
After reading much ridiculous nonsense that had no relevance to that which I
had seen and known I gave up reading again and tried to revert back to my love
of chess—but it had gone! I could no more get interested in playing serious
chess than I could in digging holes in the ground. I could not concentrate on
chess—it seemed too trivial and a waste of good time. And that annoyed me so
very much, for I had loved chess for so many years; and now that love had gone,
deserted me; and not of my choice. Why?
After about six or seven months I decided to
give up even thinking about that evening and that wondrous transcendent event;
for not only did it not relate to anything in normal perception but it could
not be got at by choice anyway; and nobody knew anything about it. So what was
the point in even thinking about it yet alone asking questions and trying to
think and make sense of it all? I returned to my old philosophy, of ‘sod the
lot of it’!
I had concluded that whatever it really was,
and experienceable though it was, knowable though it was, that I did not want
to know, and that I did not want to think of it any longer. I was not mentally
up to it. So I stopped thinking about it. Every time the thought, memory,
feeling and inner passion, flashed across my mind I
deliberately pushed it aside and thought about other things instead—difficult
though it was. But resolute I had always been.
After about another month had gone by I had
my first and only nightmare that I have ever had in my life. A nightmare which
was a dream which I will never forget for as long as I live; and which then
acted as a major catalytic event at that time.
I dreamt that I was out walking over the
moors on a very bright starlit night. There was no moon but the stars were so bright
and so abundant that I could see well enough to the top of the hill towards
which I was walking. I knew the path even though the path itself was dark and
not well seen as such; but the illumination from the sky made the top of the
hill stand out in silhouette and quite clear to vision. I knew that there were
no hazards underfoot and thus I could walk in confidence.
All of a sudden somebody switched on a
searchlight. I had been walking quite slowly, both hands in my pockets and
whilst whistling to myself as I walked. At the event of this light being
switched on I was thus taken by surprise; for I knew that it was a searchlight
and yet there was no war on. So who the hell was looking for what out here on
the barren moor at this time of the night with such a bright light? It then
occurred to me that something was wrong; the damn light was upside down! I had
seen enough search lights during the war and knew well enough what they looked
like; and this bugger was upside down. I began to hasten my steps, for the
light was in the direction I was walking toward anyway; and I was intrigued to
find out what it was for, and as to what they were looking for at this time of
the night. But on realising that it was upside down I guessed that it must have
been a slow moving aeroplane or a helicopter with a new silencing method; for
there was no sound whatsoever.
Moreover, the light was not moving. It became
obvious that the point of the light was up in the sky and that the wide bit was
on the ground. But some sod up there was looking for something on the ground;
yet there was nothing but barren moor out here. Then the light began to move.
It began what one can only describe as a scanning action. The point at the top
was stationary and the beam itself was moving slowly across the moor in a
straight line. It then stopped; shot back instantly to a point in the opposite
direction where it had begun scanning and then started scanning a little lower
down the hill; just enough lower down that it would not have missed anything. I
became even more and more intrigued. I took my hands out of my pockets and
began walking a little faster toward it. I arrived at a point where I could
ascertain that the diameter of the beam on the ground was about six feet; and
indeed very bright.
The scanning had continued... slowly across,
fast back, a little further down and then slowly across again, time after time.
These buggers were resolute if nothing else. I reached a point where the beam
on the ground was only about twelve feet away from me; but there was still no
sound and no sign of where the light was coming from in the sky. At that point
I simply stopped walking and just continued to watch the event. On the next
scan the beam passed by where I stood by about four feet or so. It did not even
occur to me that if I did not move out the way then the next scan would cover
the point where I was standing; or if it had occurred to me then it did not
bother me at all; for I just stood there and watched it; for it was
fascinating. As predicted by past events it got to the end of that scan,
flashed back to its original point of movement and slowly began its next scan
again. It had not stopped in its movement since all this had begun. As it
approached I saw that its path was coming straight toward me as I had assumed;
but when it got where I was standing... IT STOPPED DEAD!
I was panic struck. I could not move. I was
transfixed to the spot. I instantly looked upward but although the light was so
dazzling I knew that the upper end, the narrow point end was something to do
with me; but I had to turn my eyes away for the brightness was too much; and in
looking back down I did not see myself—but I saw that ugly bent twisted tree
which I had seen over the moors some seven months back; I was that useless tree.
I did not wake up,
it was as though I had never been asleep at all. I was flung out of bed and
crashed into the wall which made my nose bleed. I had never known panic before
in all my life. I was sweating buckets and bleeding. I rushed downstairs like a
bat out of hell and made a series of strong cups of coffee. I could hardly stop
shaking in panic; yet I did not know what I was even frightened of; for the
dream itself was a soft and pleasant dream; and I did not frighten easily by
anything anyway. It was my reaction to it which was the nightmare.
I eventually relaxed a little after about
five cigarettes and three cups of coffee. I grabbed a book out of the bookcase
and began studying some weird and wonderful opening variation on the Sicilian
defence Dragon variation to take my mind of it. It was about three in the
morning by now, and there was no way that I was going to go back to bed that
night. Thus it was not the dream itself which was the nightmare but rather my
reaction to it which was the nightmare; and fear of I knew not what. I just did
not understand. How the hell could the mind throw up a wondrous scenario as I
had experienced those few months back and then tonight... this!? It got me
asking questions again and that is for sure. It worked! It was as though the
dream was somehow symbolic. After transcendence I somehow knew that I knew
something which I could not know now, or consciously know now anyway, but that
it would come, whatever it was—a kind of answer or synthesis to the events. But
that was somehow intuitive understanding and thus questionable. I did not
really KNOW it for absolute certainty.
When one settles down again the thinking and
questioning then starts in earnest, and in a calmer action from hindsight.
Strange that we can be moved into action by bad events and forget the good
ones! OK then, these things do happen; so what is
going on then, how and why? And what the hell does whatever it is really want?
Where is all this going to, and why, and how? And why me?
I cannot go into any detail of the events which occurred over the next twenty
years for it would take forever. But what happened shortly after that dream was
most odd. It was as though that every time I came to be motivated by a certain
topic I then contemplated upon that topic of thought, then within a short
while, sometimes weeks and sometimes months, I would have some very strange
kind of psychic experience which could be seen as a direct answer to the very
issue I had been contemplating upon—like an answer. This is ridiculous I
thought; and yet it is damn well happening. This involved all kinds of
experiences, but never quite the same kind twice. I did not even want them,
this was not my kind of ‘thing’; not me. I did not want to see past and future
events as pictures flashed up in my mind. I did not want deep inner empathies
with people. I did not want pictures flashed up in my mind as to what they were
thinking or what they had in their pockets even. What the hell was going on and
what was the point of it all? I did not want any of this stuff. I just wanted
to be left alone to get on with my life and normal daily reality.
These experiences however, were much
different from that first big event, the transcendent event; and anyway these
other ‘psychic’ or whatever they were experiences did not answer questions
about that other reality as such, but simply seemed to show me various
potentials which the mind could somehow come to do at times; and god only knows
how or why. But that first experience was not so much about what the mind could
come to do but rather—what it indeed was in essence! And assuming it was true
of course. However, these other things were always proved at the time that they
WERE indeed true, for they could be proved; they were proved; and they were
never ever wrong, not a one of them. Is something trying to tell me
something—if so what and why!? And why indeed me; for I asked
for none of this at all?
These things continued on and off for nearly
eighteen years. By this time, or long before it in
fact, I had got used to them, and simply smiled about them. It was not as
though these events were happening every day: far from it; and life, as it had
always been, was reasonable enough; good times and bad times the same as anyone
else has, but not extremes of anything. Then for a while nothing happened at
all, not a jot. I began to think and accept that all these things were now over
for me in this lifetime, and that perhaps I had seen far more than enough
anyway. Yet many claimed to understand their experiences (or so they said), but
I was damned if I could. I felt a deep inner gratitude for having been so
fortunate to see such wonders, and yet somehow, and by virtue of it, I felt
some how ‘left up in the air’. As though somehow, like a
pistol, I had been cocked but not fired; unresolved. It was all still
unsynthesized in rational comprehension. No final synthesis to the flow and
understanding of it all, and the why. A half-baked
understanding.
A little learning may well be a dangerous
thing but it can also be damned frustrating as I found out. For an inner part
of me knew things somehow, even understood them some how in an emotional
understanding, yet the outer and rational part of my mind did not accept them
or even want to know. Imagine listening to the most beautiful song in creation
and then the singer skips out the last chord, the resolution to the harmony,
the last amen—that is how I felt. But luckily my own personality could still
laugh at it. It created no hung up as such; but more a
kind of rational annoyance than anything. I began, on black days, to wish that
I had seen nothing of all these things at all; and yet I knew that I did not
really mean that; just that dark cloud that can pop up at times I guess. By the
time I reached forty years of age I thought all such past experiences beyond
the normal range of sensory data had now finished in my case. I had even
accepted and become used to the idea that no more was going to be seen and that
no full synthesis of understanding would ever come. My degree of intelligence,
or lack of it, could not work it out. Anyway I did not even want to work it out
now—I damn well wanted to KNOW!
Life was ticking over OK. I was now married
for the second time after my first two children had grown up and were doing
there own thing; and now with two more young ones in the second marriage (with
one more yet to come—another surprise!). I had what seemed like two full lives
in one as it were; five children in all and one foster child which we took on
from the deprived area of inner Bristol. I often chuckle when I read of these
academics who inform us how best to bring our children up; the sociologists
with bits of paper and Ph.D.’s (Piles of Hybrid Dribble, or Medallions of
conformative potential), and often they have not even had any children. Their
‘knowledge’ is all academic, not direct hard earned experience. Ignorance is
bliss!
If I had another five hundred children then
it would still be guesswork and instinctive reactions for the large part. (Plus
the fact that they are all very different and with different needs and
personality; children are not clones that conform to rules of convention.) But
if they are loved, they will not go far wrong it seems: either in wealth or in
relative poverty. But having them if they are not loved and
wanted is the greatest tragedy in the universe of mankind and the existing
human condition. Children know whether they are loved or not
intuitively; and not simply by words. Too many people say ‘I Love you’ in this
world; but do they really know what real love (not need) and deep passion
really are I wonder?
However, one spring morning when the kids
were at school my wife and I went out with our dog to the hills overlooking the
Chew Valley lakes near Bristol where we lived for eight years: for she had been
attending Bath University for three or four years. We thought it was such a
nice day that we would take a picnic and she could study some papers she had to
deal with whilst taking in the fresh air. The view was crystal clear that day
and the sun was soft and warm with just a pleasant fresh occasional breeze; it
was perfect weather. After our sandwiches and a drink my wife settled down to
her studies whilst I was playing with the dog; he loved the ‘fetch’ game, for
he was a Springer. After a certain amount of chasing around, I, getting a
little older and less energetic than I had been, eventually slumped down on the
grass for a rest whilst the dog chewed on his stick. I was in a position about
eight feet away from my wife and behind her. She was lost in her work; the dog
was lost in the joys of his stick and his earlier chasing, so I simply began to
look around me to admire the view.
Within a few minutes or so something strange
began to happen. It was very, very peaceful. There were no other people around,
and there fell a kind of hush that one experiences at rare times, as though all
sounds were muted a little. Like one of those days when walking on air or
cotton wool, or on soft new snow; a unity of peace which is rare on earth. Just
at that point the dog trotted over to me with his stick, he wanted me to throw
it again for him. But I could not be bothered to get up so I simply threw it
whilst reclining on the grass. As the stick flew though the air it began to
sparkle so it seemed. Perhaps it was the reflection of the sun. But as the dog
was leaping through the long deep grass as it was at that part of the field the
dog also began to ‘glow’ with a strange inner radiance. As I looked around me,
my wife (I could only see her back and her hair), was also glowing. The grass
was glowing, and the trees. I looked at my hands. They were glowing with an
inner light of pure radiance. I began to think I was perhaps not very well or
something, yet I felt fine, tremendous; never felt better. I scanned the whole vista
around me. Everything was glowing with an inner light,
the world was different than I had ever seen it before. The lakes way down
below us, the sky, the trees, the few puffs of small white clouds, the grass,
my shoes, everything, was shimmering with this inner light and a wondrous
radiance; and it was all becoming more so and more so—what on earth is
happening? Then the ‘hushed-ness’ of sound which had existed turned into a kind
of ‘hum’. Not a hum as such but a kind of unified ‘song’ or symphony of sound.
I could hear the ants, the bees, insects in the grass, the dogs
breath, it was almost as though I could hear all our own hearts beating and
blood pumping. And yet it was a unified kind of sound, almost like music in
fact. I was dumbstruck and amazed, for I had never seen anything like this
before. It was as though the physical senses had been liberated from a sleep
and come alive to a greater spectrum of creation itself; the world was
different; and amazing. And then it happened! It is indescribable; ineffable. I
can describe the journey to that transcendent paradise; annihilation; the
resurrection; what it is like in that paradise, and what it looks like and
feels like; but my god almighty I cannot describe this for the love of trying.
It was as though a hole had opened up in creation itself. As though there had
been a blockage up the pipe-line which was now cleared by a flue brush clearing
out the muck of the senses.
There was no ‘gap’ between the transcendent paradise
realm and this earth, for they were ‘joined’, directly connected; a blockage
had become unblocked. For I now recognised those shimmering lights, I had seen
them before when in that ‘nothing’—Limbo, all those years ago. I realised only
now, and for sure, that those lights I had seen on the journey to that paradise
dimension whilst in ‘nothing’ were the naked face and wave front of the act of
creation itself. I had wondered about it on many occasions—but now—now I knew
it. That which was within; the Divine Implicate Order,
is now out there, in the world also, and on a new ‘wave front’ of my own minds
interaction with objective reality itself. Good grief almighty. And just at
that point I began to be bombarded by what one can only call chunks of ‘data’,
understanding and comprehension. As though a million pieces of Jig-saw-puzzle
were being tossed up into the air and putting themselves together in the
finished picture of comprehension. It pounded and pounded and pounded with
relentless velocity and increasing frequency. It was as though my I AM in transcendence and the personality incarnate
became one on earth in a gusher of a union. In transcendence the outer I had
gone to IT: but here and now, on earth, IT, the implicate inner reality, the child of that Divine realm had come out to me.
We danced again in a swoon of unified passion and delight, as it had been in
paradise those long twenty years ago then so too was it again, now, on earth;
the inner had become the outer: the below as the above.
When I went to IT the outer consciousness had
gone to and become as the inner consciousness. But now the inner child (of mind
at root) walked upon the face of the earth—the essential spirit of being was
liberated... ON EARTH through me! I gave myself up and let that consciousness
walk in my body—to see the trees, to feel the breeze, to show it the finished
product of creation in the outer multitude; the synthesis of the vortex of
emanation. I had shared paradise... and my love, I give the world to you now,
through me! In transcendence there had been a union in the Mutual Convergence,
(in annihilation and resurrection) but this was a reciprocal event, the
Reciprocal Convergence, Paradise on earth, the Consummatum Incarnate! Good god
almighty I cannot take much more of this reality! And yet it kept coming, more
and more, stronger and stronger, I thought I was going to burst with passion
and explode like I did once before. But not so, I was just engulfed in, and
surrounded by a love, a wisdom; all knowledge, all comprehension, all
affirmation, all at the same instant and in ultimate dosage—and in a physical
world unimaginable. And then... and then it came to me, revealed and
comprehended in one shocker of a blast: something had once given me the
understanding... “It is now time to go. Do not fear, for it is all well that
you must go now, for something out there is in need; and you must now be with
it; do not fear, go now; be with it”! In twenty years I had never understood
that bit; I had never come to understand it and I assumed that I never would
come to understand it. But now, twenty years almost to the day later, I
understood it implicitly; and it was the first time in my life that I wept; and
albeit on the inside; for it was the soul that wept. Good god almighty—I knew
what was in need—it was the world itself; the trees, the flowers, the sun and
the sky, the stars themselves—that they might become like this: and it is mine
to give, through the love; through me... TO THEM!
Normality slowly began to return. The ‘music’
gradually turned back into the normal sounds of the bees and the breeze. The
inner lights of the emanation of being slowly dimmed back into the colours of
normal matter and things. The ‘hushed-ness’ faded into normality, and the gates
of paradise closed again. No doubts, no questions, no dichotomy, no unfinished
song; the last amen had been sung and danced—ON EARTH. The last chord made
whole and finalised—and this—is creation done; the finished product. The synthesis of paradise and earth; the purpose and function of
creation and being. And I was never the same child again, for the child
had become a man. Somebody else walked out of the field that day; somebody very
different; and the twenty year wait was over. Twenty years in the wilderness of
the resolution of the paradise event. But to have waited ten million years
would have been worth it. There is nothing one can say, except that it is now
achieved; Consummatum Est!
And I now Understand.
*
My wife did not even know that anything had happened in
that field during that hour or so; and I did not say a word. I was worn out,
wrung out, drained, and mind-blown yet again; yet so
very different from the last time when returning from the transcendent event
twenty years earlier. Had I not have seen that transcendent paradise twenty
years ago then I would never had understood this event
at all. But now I did. I read somewhere once that the young would have visions
and that when old they would dream dreams. How strange, how
very strange. All I can do now is to dream dreams of a better world for
young minds to come into; for this one seems to be spiritually dead. It would
seem to me that there must come a time, in one incarnate lifetime or another,
when a soul must walk these paths for themselves. It is more to do with the
evolution of the individuals soul than that of the
existing temporal manifestation of that souls incarnate mind as such. It is
plain enough that not all human beings on earth undergo such events during this
lifetime; and yet they must do so eventually, for it is the evolution of the
incarnate soul itself. There is no evolution in paradise, but only in extension
of it. We were not made FOR paradise (we were made IN IT); but we were made for
freedom in a temporal world—a world in which we are given the freedom and power
to make by way of our own desires and efforts. How incredible! “Here is the
‘stuff’ my love, make with it what you will!”
* * *
THE DARK SIDE
Dedication
to Omar Khayyam
Would that I could
sleep tonight
and ne’r
awake again;
and shackled to my soul, could
take
the harbinger of pain;
that catalytic virus now
which burrows like a screw,
entwines itself like poison
on what was pure as dew.
For
if I did not love you,
then I would never care,
and never would I worry,
or your pain then have to
share;
but it is done... I love you;
and the dark side I must know
until the temporal course is
through;
when all the pain will go.
Why
is it thus, that love must have
its dark side like the Moon,
or rust beneath a painted
sheen
which shows itself so soon?
Ah
love! Could we conspire
to grasp this sorry scheme,
and mould it in a fashion more
conducive to our dream !
* * *
DICHOTOMY
Thus it is, the
analogy,
that the ‘Cave of shadows’ is
true;
but alas we never know it
until we see the other view
of light beyond the light we
know,
and in temporal fields
returned.
And
whence comes such a time on Earth
when the inner light so true,
by each and every being
is prominently in view?
But
still I say, dear Omar,
and unto you my love,
me thinks it’s not the time on
Earth
where such truth fits like a
glove
while the sacred Cow of profit
rings its hollow bell;
exploits through fear and
violence,
and intimidates then of hell.
I
understand that in due course
such things will come to be
when the seed of inner
movement
engulfs temporality.
But
the climate of the temporal mind,
me thinks is not yet ripe,
but wallows still in Somnus,
in a depth which is unripe.
The
time is not yet ready
to reap the Golden Fleece:
return then, to your magic realm;
and rest... in Heavenly peace!
part two
Sometimes
I’ve cursed the day I saw
beyond the temporal tree,
and the innocence of beauty
amid this world’s poverty.
Life
could be so simple
if such things we never knew;
or observers of such wisdom
at least were not so few.
Where
knowledge is but second hand
at best it makes one think;
but when you know; you can
compare;
and that is pain... to drink.
You
cannot be affected
by what you do not know;
but that which you have been
in
which set the heart aglow
can never be forgotten,
negated or put down,
and that is why the mystics
weep
when this world they look
around.
Think
not such knowledge is all fun
while on this world we dwell;
for if you care to sup of
truth
then you must drink it well.
Knowledge
which is second hand,
like an angelus that rings,
offers knowledge of the truth,
without the pain it brings.
part three
Enjoy
your time among the trees
when next the gate swings in
the breeze!
But
times there are, which sometimes come,
tis easier said, my friend, than done.
Thus,
I would cast such Wisdom
many fathoms deep;
that only those who long for
truth
its knowledge would then reap.
But
neither do I have to,
for it is already done,
by one that is much wiser,
and to which all things must
come.
But
knowledge which is second hand,
like an angelus that rings,
offers knowledge of the truth
where the child of Wisdom
sings.
But
to seek within religion
for the singer and the song
is much like opening vintage
wine,
with the aid of a nuclear
bomb.
And
when at last your reason knows
no more then can be done,
and offers up its being.....
“When
you need Me... I will come!”
* * *
SILENT NIGHT
A Song of Remembrance.
Acknowledgements
to Franz Gruber and Joseph Mohr.
Silent night, Holy
night
all is calm, all is right;
rests the child of loves
virgin light
in that heavenly womb so
bright.
Rest
there in heavenly peace,
Rest
there in heavenly peace.
Silent
night, Holy night,
gone the World, hid from sight
while the glory of loves sweet
child
bathed in wisdom so tender, so
mild,
reaping thy heavenly peace,
reaping thy heavenly peace.
Silent
night, Holy night,
realm of love, Oh so right,
guide their spirit to thy side
so in truth we all may abide
singing of heavenly love,
singing of heavenly love.
part two
Still
the night! calm the night!
for the child of heavenly
light
from the womb of eternal
abound:
in remembrance of loves silent
ground,
where thy true love is born,
where thy true love is born.
Silent
night, Holy night,
all is calm, all is right,
where thy truth redeems my
glow
spirit falls like snow upon
snow
and rests there in heavenly
peace,
rests there in heavenly peace.
Silent
night, Holy night,
gone the world, hid from
sight,
while the glory of loves sweet
child
bathed in wisdom so tender and
mild,
rests there... in heavenly
peace.
Rest
there... in heavenly peace!
* * *
ENTELOS EPINIKE
There is one thing
you ought to know
if one would advise you which
way to go;
so heed a word, and mark it
well,
lest your mind may fare
unwell.
In
order that you truly see
words of truth that come to
thee,
distinguished from a word
untrue
of things which are so close
to you.
Remember
that a one who knows
the restitution of repose,
and truly seen the wondrous
thing;
their poetry will dance and
sing.
So
if there is no sparkle there;
but words of doom, and dark
despair,
then let your mind not linger
long;
for theirs is not the actual
song.
Hence,
be alert, where greed may dwell;
which brings a cloud, a hollow
bell;
and thus a darkness long in
time;
for theirs is not the actual
rhyme.
* * *