mystical poems

My child, let your life come into the world of darkness
like a spark of light, without flicker and pure,
and thank them in silence. You know, my child,
they are cruel in their greed and envy,
their words are disguised knives thirsting for blood.
But do not be afraid, my child, go and stand in their hearts,
and let your gentle eyes fall on them like the forgiving serenity of the night.
My child, let them see your face and so they know it
meaning of all things, let them love and love one another.

Blind children in the dark
Within the whispers of the forest
As foliage falls on a place without sun
Where the white eyes gaze

Down the path there is a clearing
Where the yellowing grass lays down to rest
Beneath the flowers still living
To provide, in their dying, sustenance for the deer

The lake sounds carry in the distance
Holding the jolting caw of migrating geese
Who linger for a moment, watched by forest deer,
As they move along the grain patches toward the edge

eternal track to heaven
beneath the shadows—
eyes turned up to the sky
like a prison of light
 
showers fallen to the sea
as if dreaming of dust
and weeping until it rolls
to the shores of regret