There is a Quiet Dream,
a Small Self that remains un-lived.
A Bouquet of Promises, a Banquet of Streams.
Through the doorway of Internal Self
we glimpse the Eternal Self: beautiful, small,
well-formed, delicately-maintained,
Impeccable in its un-judged perfection.
In my dealings with others, I see pieces reflected:
the Things I Love; the Things I Long for.
Kindness, Humor, Sweetness, Empathy,
Depth, Understanding, Clarity.
We bring our Hungers to the Table:
the ineffable Emptiness, Broken Pieces,
Sorrows, Woundings, Misgivings, Doubt,
Speculation. Who are we, beneath these Layers?
Where is the Surprise, the Sunset,
the Dozen Roses?
There is a Quiet Dream,
made of all the Lost Pieces of Music
that we once knew. We once loved.
We once felt in its Depth. We once Sang
We once Danced.
We Dream this Lost Piece of Music,
we feel its Fundamental Depth,
its gentle Dischord in Twilight,
its majestic Arcing in the Dawn;
its sweet and natural Dance
that speaks of Completeness, Rest,
Total Peace.
We are this Dream
at the Center of our Selves.
This is our True Voice –
both our Longing and our Fulfillment.
This is our Naked Child: eyes of Wonder,
Love of Delight, clothed in the natural
senses of Wonder, Trust, Courage.
This is the Trust that trusts, the Love that loves,
the small and delicate hand that reaches …
for the Unreachable.
Everything in Nature
has its Longing and its Destination
minutely and perfectly Intertwined;
it’s Hunger and its Food –
carefully arranged, organized,
designed, embedded by an Intelligence
incomprehensible, vast and profoundly
Personal.
Our true voice is Us.
There is none other.
There is no Greater Beauty.